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Well, I am very skeptical about many things, so what I would do would probably be a bit different than most.

I love singing and I wish to have a career doing so, so the reason I am at the Opera Populaire would already be set. My mom would probably be angry with me (for she wants me to be a doctor) and we'd probably lose contact. Or, she would be angry for she would want me to marry a rich nobleman and be a housewife (due to the time period). My dad would be proud, but he is so busy with his work so he'd probably not contact me either. My brother is more of a scientist than an artist, so he would have no business being at the Populaire either. The only way our family communicates is by email, and that will be near impossible (given the time period we are living in; the eighteen hundreds).

Since my father is not dead, if I heard Erik's voice through a mirror, I would immediately think myself crazy. Although I am a devout Phantom lover and sometimes wish that I could hear such a voice through my mirror, I doubt that I would actually be ok with it if it ever were to happen. I'd look about me frantically, and run from the room. Meg Giry (or perhaps some other girl from the Corps de Ballet or a maid; I don't really have friends like Meg) would come upon me, and think I have seen a ghost. I would deny it all, and simply say I was thinking about the next performance that I was absolutely dreading.

Well, at least that was the partial truth. Although I think I have talent and people often tell me I do have talent, I do doubt myself. Plus, I would be going against the famous Prima Donna Carlotta. That alone could frighten someone into not singing or trying out for a lead role.

The Phantom, hearing this, decides to try again the next time I enter the room. I would probably be intoxicated (XD) or very tired from practice, so my mind wouldn't be as antsy. The voice calls again, and I still think myself crazy, but this time I don't run from the room (for a voice couldn't hurt anyone). The voice talks of my dilemna with the upcoming performance and says it can help me. It could teach me. Although still frightened out of my mind, I am intrigued and agree to meet the voice in the room the following day at 7 p.m.

I go the next night, completely expecting total silence in the room, but the voice was there. It told me to go to the mirror, straighten my posture, open my throat, and begin doing the scales. Several hours and beradings from the voice later, the voice tells me to go to bed. Bewildered, I do so.

It continues over the course many weeks, and I find myself gradually accepting that this voice is not a figment of my imagination (for my imagination is rather poor anyhow) and a real person. I immediately jump to person for, you see, I also lack the imagination to believe in ghosts and disembodied voices. I also found that I started relying on the voice (or, by now, I would probably refer to the voice as 'him'), and I couldn't bare it if he suddenly disappeared. It also dawns on me that the man is communicating to me through the mirror, and he could possibly see me through it as I undress and whatnot. At that moment, I am probably embarrassed and nervous about this revelation.

The next lesson, I'd probably just ask rather stupidly, "Look, I know you are human, but I must ask...you aren't looking at me as I undress, are you?" Expecting something harsh such as "Aren't you a vain child?" or something like that, I wait for the response. Instead, I hear nothing. After a few moments, I start worrying. "You are still there, aren't you?" I would call, temporarily forgetting my embarrassment. "Oh s**t, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." I curse like a sailor at times. XD

Erik, meanwhile, probably sits behind the mirror, contemplating the fact that I now know that he is human. He is madly in love with me (I am not vain, that is purely for storytelling purposes; I could not type that with a straight face XD), and has been hoping to reveal himself as a human for quite a while, but has never been able to do so. However, revealing himself because of the question "Are you watching me undress?" isn't exactly appropriate or romantic, so he decides to wait until another day (even if it kills him to do so; Real-Life Me: *laughing my head off*). Amused and a bit taken aback by the first word he hears upon getting out of his thoughts (for by this time I would be cursing like there was no tomorrow), he would say, "You have nothing to fear, child. I respect your privacy and would never do something such as that without your consent."

I feel I have a reason to be skeptical, for most men cannot control themselves very long when they know a naked woman is near by (as you can see, I have man issues XD), but his voice seems sincere. Of course, it could be the hypnosis of his melodic voice that was convincing me (for I had discovered many weeks prior that he has the power of mind control by using his voice; he had to do so many a time when I am unconsolable after a rather nasty comment from Carlotta...I am also sensitive, even though I claim to have a logical mind and know that her comments mean nothing), but I chose not to dwell on it.

A few weeks later, auditions for Hannibal were coming up. I knew that Carlotta would be getting the role I had wanted, but my teacher advised me to audition. "They will cast you for the role if they know what is best for them," he had said. "And if not...well, things will go accordingly, angel." Now, if any other man had taken up to calling me some silly pet name such as that, they would have a reason to fear, but with my teacher it seemed just as natural as everything else in my life. You know, as natural as a voice talking to you from behind a mirror. XD Little did I know of the threat behind those words, for I didn't have a reason to believe that he would do anything wrong. Yet, anyway.

So, let's kick it into overdrive (for I am not even half way done; many of you are probably wondering why I am writing so much...well, I am bored and I love telling a story ^^): We audition, Carlotta gets the part despite the fact that I was obviously the better canidate, a backdrop is dropped on Carlotta during one of the final practices, they enlist me for the role, I sing at the performance and am confident for I feel my teacher's presence somehow, everything went well, etc etc..

NOW, let's introduce Raoul! Almost coming in at six foot, with sand colored shoulder length hair that is tied back with a black ribbon is Fabio! Erm, I mean Raoul. XD I had seen him before at a previous practice, but he had not noticed me and I considered him below dirt afterwards (for we had known each other for many years and I am easily offended). He comes into my dressing room with a large boquet of white roses, and starts talking about Batman. For, Batman, you see, was my nickname back then. "Batman, let her mind wander. Batman once thought, am I fonder of the Batcave, or of beating up the Joker?" I am irritated (for I secretly hated the whole reference to Batman; those who know me personally will understand the whole Batman thing; plus, there is the whole forgetting me thing), but at the same time I am flattered by the roses he brought (I prefer to call it easily swayed, not shallow XD). "Raoul..." I say rather wearily, for I am torn between greeting him enthusiastically or with a wad of spit at his fancy shoes. I am a rather extreme person, you see. "Or of wearing bat ears--?" He continued his little poem. "And a little black cape?"

He set down the roses on my dresser, and gave me an encouraging grin. I, not taking the bait to continue his little mockery, said, "What are you doing here?" Raoul's handsome face deflated when he saw that I didn't greet him as delightedly as he had once hoped. "I saw you perform, and I must say, Michelle, you were absolutely amazing," he praised, taking advantage of my easily flattered ego. "And I have never seen you look so radiant."

'Well, last time you saw me, I had no boobs and a terrible case of acne,' I thought rather cynically, but I still accepted his praises gracefully. "Thank you," I said simply, diverting my eyes from his gaze.

Seeing this and taking it as a sign of modesty towards his affections (instead of the awkwardness that it really was), Raoul soon says, "Michelle, we simply must go to dinner and catch up." I look up at him and say, "I'm sorry, Raoul, I can't. I have plans for later tonight." I did have plans; I had a voice lesson with my teacher. "Oh, well that's unfortunate," Raoul said, looking a bit down but by no means defeated. "How about tomorrow then?" I simply shook my head. "Next week?" I sighed. "Raoul, I don't think I will be available any night this week, or the next. I'm sorry, but I can't go to dinner with you."

"How about lunch, then?" Raoul asked. Although I was a bit irked by his persistance, I couldn't help but admire it. He was trying pretty hard for being a Vicomte; most women would have thrown themselves at his feet, whether it be for their greed of money or his good looks. I gave him a small smile, and said, "We shall see." Having to accept this for the night, Raoul bid me adieu, brushed his lips against my outstretched hand, and left. I sighed, tired from the performance and having to deal with Raoul.

Little did I know that my teacher was watching, his eyes burning onto me from behind the mirror. He had come earlier than usual to congratulate me on the performance, and was forced to suffer the little sceen that took place before him. At the beginning, he was relieved. Raoul had come in, requested my presense at dinner many times, and all I could look was exasperated. But then later, I had tiredly agreed to perhaps have lunch with him. Perhaps was better than yes, but it definately wasn't better than a guaranteed no. 'And then that boy--that smug boy--kissed my angel's hand and she sighed. She bloody sighed!' He thought, his piercing blue eyes smouldering. Before he thought of what he saying, he started singing, "Insolent boy, this slave of fashion! Basking in your glory!" And you know how it went from there.

I am completely terrified--for I have never heard him so angry before--and I quickly tried to redeem myself with flattering words (which everyone knows, so I won't bother writing them). He then tells me that I am flattering, and randomly decides that he wants to show me who he is. My terror is immediately turned into utter excitement. I had wanted to put a face to the voice. Surely a voice as pure as his would have a face to match it?

He opens the mirror and... Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce our next bachelore, Erik! *crowd 'oohs' and 'ahhs'* Coming in at six foot three, this haunter of the night is a skilled killer and master of allusions! You definately wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley. *crowd gasps* However, he has a quite excellent pysique, passhionate blue eyes, and a mysterious white mask that covers half of his face. Talk about mysterious! *crowd sighs dreamily* He also has a voice that can make angels weep, and is rumoured to be the infamous Phantom of the Opera. Quite a interesting character, wouldn't you say? Good thing I was too wrapped up in the song 'Phantom of the Opera' to hear many of the things that random host just said. Now, I'm not sure what is weirder: the fact that we just had some host from the Dating Game come down here to narrate Erik, or the fact that I am singing a song without ever hearing it before.

In any case, I found myself being taken deeper into the catatombs of the Opera House, being guided by a tall man dressed in black formal wear and a white mask that pierced the darkness that surrounded us. I knew that this was weird enough. Little did I know that this was the beginning of, well...the weirdest events that were ever to be taking place.

Part Twoish (Update: 11/22)
The last resounding note left my throat, and echoed through the dark catatombs. I sat there, bewildered, wondering how he could possibly enjoy the racket that I called "singing" just a moment ago. Honestly, it sounded like I was screaming. 'Oh, no...He isn't one of those perves that likes peoples' fear and pain, is he?' I thought, for a moment released from his spell and thinking frantically. 'Crap, I don't know how to get back up. I trusted the voice when it couldn't get near me, but this is too much!'

"Why have you brought me here?" I asked, trying to not let my voice show the fear it's owner possessed. I looked straight into his blue eyes, even though I wanted to run away. And what I saw there was pain. Had I honestly hurt him that much from such a simple statement? Perhaps he detected my fear...Perhaps he--

"I have brought you...to the seat of sweet music's throne. To this kingdom where all must be--" The man went on, and I was a bit relieved. Whether or not that was because I was being hypnotized or because I felt that he was more into his music than he was into me...I'm not so sure.

One moment he was talking about his music as if it were a fond lover, and the next he was talking about me (of all people) in that same sense. I was terrified. I had never heard someone speak of me so strongly before, for any emotion. Even hatred or annoyance. I'm just the type of person that can seep into the background, even though I could also step into the limelight of center stage. Plus, we had just met in person a few moments ago. While I had come to love and rely on the voice he possessed, I did not know how he could possibly expect me to even trust the man behind it. And what was with the mask? Was he some escaped convict, living below the Opera House to hide from searching policemen?

To be continued




=My thirst of writing a story at the moment has overcome me, so I apologize for taking up boardspace with my garbage. =D =

I'm hoping this would be what I'd do as well. NONE of us honestly know what we'd do in these situations, really. xP

Okay, my mother would be ecstatic that I had joined the opera. She's always been incredibly swamped in 'being yourself' and attending every performance I did with a scream of delight.. My father would be angry, and say I should have gotten a more important job or married someone with a title(In this day and age, my father is very into me being the best I can be, and in those days THAT was the best you could be.). He'd ask whatever happened to Raoul, and claim that it was a waste of a beautiful chance.

(But does my father die? Eh. I'll just play it out like he does much later since that's the scene.) If I heard a voice coming from my room, I'd probably scream in panic, worry the Girys until they left. Then Erik would probably scold me for acting so impuslively, and I'd begin to ask too many questions. ;P

After realizing he was here to train my voice, I would be ecstatic! I've always wanted a voice trainer and wanted to be my best at singing. I might actually believe he was indeed an angel (In that day, if a booming voice came into your room, you'd not be able to find a reasonable explanation why.) I'd thank him for everything he does, and laugh when I take center stage, shy but proud of myself. Later I would see Raoul, and naturally be happy to see an old friend! I'd welcome him with open arms- though I would not trust him after so many years apart. He's a vicomte and I'm sure he could throw women to the side on a daily basis, so I wouldn't accept any offers of romance from him.

Erik would tell me not to see him again- I assure him "He's just a friend.." Only, unlike Christine, I'd mean it! He would come from the mirror, and all of my hopes of speaking to an actual angel would be shattered.. But at least he was something real, something I could touch and know it's not just my insanity speaking to me to try and cope with my father's death. (Here's where both Webber and Leroux mix, I suppose.)

I'd follow him through the mirror, sit on the gondola and probably lean over the edge, "Are there any fish living under the opera house?! OH! I must tell Meg!" We'd come to the lair filled with candles and fake flowers. When Erik begins to tell me of his love for me, I'd mutter awkwardly, "But you're old enough to be my father.. You knew me since I was a child..." Though I'd have an incredible feeling of love towards him. Singing would ensue, my fascination of him seeming to become uncontrollable, however he begged me not to take his mask off. So, I wouldn't! He'd walk me to the curtain, where he'd reveal a life size mannequin of me, where I'd mutter rudely, "Jesus, you'd have to be pretty close to get such a likeness- ... .. Have you ALWAYS been behind that mirror?" I'd notice embarassment and probably storm off.

Cut to morning, I wake and am feeling better from my anger upon realizing he had been there the entire time. He would ask of my love for him, and I'd probably be afraid, not knowing how to react. I'd tell him, "I need more time.." and he'd take me back to my room. Meg would scream for details, and for the first time in our entire frendship, I'd be at a loss for words! I'd mutter how all I want to do for the moment is rest, and would immediately do so. I'd wake to hearing a commotion, shouts to Carlotta that they don't want her to leave. I'd run out, hearing how the Phantom had threatened that a "Disaster beyond your imagination would occur," and I'd be thrown into a panic. I'd run straight to the mirror, screaming "Erik, please, please don't! I promise I don't mind! I don't mind not being center stage, Erik!"

He would probably be in the lair working on Don Juan Triumphant or examining the scratches Buquet left in the torture chamber.. Basically: I'm screwed. I have absolutely no voice when it comes to Carlotta and the managers, and would have to listen..

Skip to the performance of Il Muto. Carlotta takes the stage and I'm stuck cross dressing. I'm too embarassed to tell Meg it feels fantastic to wear pants- for fear she'll consider me a whore(Showing of the legs in pants was frowned upon I believe.). So I keep my dirty little crossdressing secret closeted, singing on stage. Erik's booming voice shouts a warning, and I whisper his name in surprise. Carlotta states that I should be silent, and Erik's mutters echo across the audience.

I hear a croak erupting from Carlotta's throat, biting back a laugh. The full-of-herself diva doesn't even consider quitting while she's ahead, and next thing you know, she cannot stop herself! First I hear the crowd laughing, and then Erik. I'm slightly unnerved by the laughter, inching slightly away from the center stage as if to point out that I -truly- did not mind being out of the limelight. I hear "Behold!! She is singing to bring down the chandelier!" And am thrown into a panic. The chandelier sways, and I run to the sidestage, filled with terror.


Not planning on turning it into a fanfiction, it sounds awful! But I'll finish it later nonetheless.

Hehe, mine is very simple. If I was in Christine's place, I'd be spazzing out all the time.

"OMG! There's a man in my mirror!"
"OMG! I'm hearing voices!"
"Ack! Why isn't Piangi singing?"
I then commence to run around in circles screaming my lungs off.

And *that* is what I'd do if I was in the place of Christine. sweatdrop