A/N: Thanks so much to Amonraphoenix and Darkunderworld for beta-ing. You guys rock!
Disclaimer: see chapter one
Raphael was glad that he didn't need to hide beneath his street clothes for once. He crept through the backstage shadows of the Majestic Theatre.
The stage was set for a scene from the famous musical The Phantom of the Opera. He remembered when they were kids hearing about the musical from Splinter. Leonardo and Donatello instantly fell in love with it; no doubt finding some connection with the Phantom, since he was a man hidden from the world because he was different. The Phantom of course fell in love with a girl from the outside world, even though she couldn't love him. Raphael thought it was depressing and wondered how anyone could like such a story line.
Raphael peeked out into the main hall, and, when he saw that no one was around, made his way out on to the stage. He walked around, admiring the elaborate setup of the props. He momentarily forgot why he was there, but he quickly reminded himself that he didn't have time to admire the human's handiwork. The turtle searched around for the next clue. He swung around quickly when he heard footsteps enter the theatre.
"Shell," he hissed under his breath as he dove behind a curtain.
He peeked out from behind his hiding place, and saw a group of humans walk into the theatre. They made their way up to the stage, and Raphael had to move so that he wouldn't be seen. He couldn't help but start humming a song from The Phantom of the Opera; it was from years of living with Michelangelo.
I swear, if one of those humans has the next clue, I'm gonna...
Raphael's thought was interrupted as one of the humans began to speak.
"Looks like we're going to be one cast member short this rehearsal," a man Raphael figured was the director said.
"Who is it, Henry?" a woman asked.
"Daniel. He's got a family matter and won't be able to make it to practice until late tonight," the director replied.
The others gasped and groaned. "But, he's the Phantom," another man pointed out.
Raphael shifted slightly, moving behind one of the prop walls to get a better view, and saw the director take out a package from the bag on his back. Raphael narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"There is a bright side though," the director told the cast members.
"Yeah, what's that?" one of the cast asked, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation.
"I received a phone call today that someone by the name of Raphael will be filling in," the director said.
Raphael slapped a hand over his eyes. Every foul name and curse word that crossed his mind, he threw it at Alfredson. His brothers would be dead by the time he got the clue. Besides, he wasn't much of a singer; he would just be making a fool of himself.
"So, where is this Raphael person, anyway?" another man wanted to know.
Sighing in defeat, Raphael swallowed his pride and answered. "I'm back here," he mumbled.
The humans looked around for the source of the voice. "Where?" another woman asked.
"Behind the wall," Raphael replied. "Just...getting into character. But, I must warn you, I have to go soon. I have a family emergency, plus I need that package your boss is holding."
The director looked down at the package, and then up at the place where the voice was coming from. "Sing one song for us and you can have it," the man said.
Raphael ran a hand down his face. "Fine," he grumbled. "So, what do you need me to do?"
"First of all, you need to be out here," the director told him. "We're doing Music of the Night."
Raphael clamped down on his tongue to keep from yelling, wincing as pain shot through his mouth. Music of the Night? Of all the songs, why did it have to be that one? It was the most famous song and it was all done by the Phantom.
"Raphael? You still back there?" the director asked.
"I'm here," Raphael answered in a weak voice. He looked around and saw a chest. He went over to it and opened it. "Just getting ready."
He pulled out the pieces of dark clothing, a cape, and the signature white mask. He quickly got dressed; hoping that the costume would hide his appearance. Luckily, there was also a dark haired wig hidden at the bottom of the chest. He pulled off his mask and tied it to his belt before pulling on the costume. He put on the wig, immediately regretting it as the bangs fell down over his eyes. He put on the Phantom mask and then made his way out on to the stage.
"Have you ever performed before?" the director asked (him).
Raphael inwardly sighed in relief; the costume did wonders at hiding his appearance. "No, I haven't," he replied honestly. "Never saw the point. I'm not much of an actor or singer."
The director smiled. "Well, we'll see now, won't we?" he said as he went down to the seats and sat down in the front row as the other cast members got into their positions.
Raphael hoped and prayed that he remembered the words to the song. Donatello had forced him to sit down and watch the movie about a dozen times, so he should be able to stumble his way through it. The director motioned to someone up in the sound booth and the music started.
Alfredson sat staring in admiration at the computer screen that showed the Majestic Theatre. For a turtle that lived in the sewers, Raphael wasn't a half bad singer. Alfredson wondered where and how he had managed to find the time to practice; if the turtle even bothered to practice singing. In the theatre, everyone stared at the turtle as he finished the song. Raphael looked around at the amazed gazes.
"Was I really that bad?" he asked.
The director suddenly burst into applause. "Bravo!" he cheered. "Bravisima!"
One of the men came up and playfully nudged Raphael in the shoulder. "For someone who's never acted before, you're not bad," he said.
Raphael chuckled nervously. "Thanks," the turtle replied feeling a blush staining his cheeks dark.
The director walked up onto the stage and held out the brown paper wrapped package. "I believe this is yours. Thank you," he said with a genuine smile.
Raphael took the package and bowed slightly. "Thank you," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, exit stage left," he quipped.
He disappeared backstage, shedding the costume and running out to the Battle Shell. He climbed into the van and tore off the brown paper. He held Michelangelo's second nunchuck. He pulled off the note that was tied to the weapon and looked at it.
Weight in my belly,
Trees on my back,
Nails in my ribs,
Feet do I lack.
What am I?
Raphael's heart sank. "Time," he groaned. He checked the time on his shell cell. "I'm running out of time."
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