Anyways, we've got a new story… and updates might be slow since I want to focus on my other fanfics on first. The ideas for casting the Phantom, Christine and Raoul aren't mine… credit goes to "Little Tangled Beauty" on Tumblr for the main trio's castings:

Anya- Christine

Dmitri-Raoul

Gleb-Erik/The Phantom

The rest were based on my own opinions or made-up OCs for the sake of the story. And also, Team Raoul for life (Haters gonna hate)!

Enjoy!


It was a cold December afternoon in St. Petersburg, Russia, 1900… It was the first night of the season at the St. Petersburg Opera House… a new production was being performed later that night… the same day the new managers, Count Vladimir Popov and his wife, Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch, had arrived at the opera house…

"Rehearsals as you can see are underway for a new production of Hannibal…" The manager, Sergei explained to the two before walking onto the stage "Ladies and gentlemen, please…" When no one paid attention, he repeated "Ladies and gentlemen…" before sighing "Madame Feoderovna!" And with a sharp snap of her cane, a hushed silence fell over the opera house; unwilling to incur the old woman's wrath…

"Thank you," Sergei sighed with relief "May I have your attention please? As you know, for some weeks there have been rumours of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true and it is my pleasure to introduce to you the two people who now own the opera house."

"I am Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch, and this is Count Vladimir Popov" Countess Lily introduced.

"P-O-P-O-V!" Count Popov interjected, putting emphasis on the spelling of his name.

The performers bowed and clapped politely to give the two a warm welcome. "May I introduce Miss Natalya Plisetsky, our leading soprano for five seasons now!"

"Of course, of course, I have experienced all your greatest roles, Madame" Vlad politely shook the prima donna's hand, eager to get off the right foot due to her reputation "If I remember correctly, you have a rather fine aria in the final act of the show… I wonder, Madame, if, as a personal favour, you would oblige us with a private rendition? Unless, of course, if Mister Gregory objects…"

"My manager commands… Mister Gregory?"

"Will two bars be sufficient enough?"

"Two bars will be quite sufficient."

"Madame?"

"Maestro."

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we said goodbye," Natalya warbled as a few stagehands covered their ears for the most beautiful sounds could turn into noise for your ears if you listen to it constantly and for five seasons "Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try. When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart-" She was interrupted by a loud shriek as a piece of scenery fell over, revealing a mutilated corpse of a stagehand…


Anastasia Nikolaevna's gut twisted at the stagehand's corpse, the other chorus girls shrieked at the horrific sight. "He's there!" Maria, her sister whispered as she shivered in fear "The Phantom of the Opera!"

"He is with us… It's the ghost…" Another chorus girl screamed.

"Is nobody concerned for our prima donna?!" Anatoly, Natalya's husband, cried out in frustration.

"Madame, are you alright," Sergei enquired the opera diva "For God's sake! Madame Feoderovna, what is going on?!"

"From what I observed, there was no one there monsieur." Her grandmother said, matter-of-factly "and if there is, well there must be a ghost." That caused another rapture of terrified screams amongst the performers.


"Madame! Please!" Countess Lily cried out in desperation as she saw the soprano storm away from the opera house "These things do happen!"

"These things do happen? You have been here for five minutes, what do you know? Yes! These things do happenall the time. And did you stop them from happening? No!" Natalya ranted to Sergei before turning to the two "And you two…you're as bad as him! "These things do happen!" Well, until you stop these things from happening, this thing does not happen!" before she stormed away from the opera house…

"Amateurs…" Anatoly scoffed quietly as he followed her behind like a puppy following its master.

After a brief pause, Sergei began as he also left "I don't think there's much more to assist you. Good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Paris…"

The company looked anxiously at the new managers, unsure about what to do. "Um… Natalya will be back." Count Popov began "Right?"

"Are you sure? I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost." Madame Feoderovna said cryptically. Upon hearing the word "The Opera Ghost", the girls began to twirl and twitter in fear. "He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due." She continued indifferently.

"His salary?"

"Master Sergei paid him twenty thousand rubles a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with the Count Ipolitov and one of his friends as the patron of your opera…"

"Madame, I had hoped to have made that announcement myself."

"Will the count and his friend be at the performance tonight, sir?"

"In our box," Count Popov confirmed, nodding affirmatively.

"Madame, who is the understudy for this role?"

"There is no understudy," Gregory sighed in defeat "the production is new."


"Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov could sing it!" Maria piped up, pushing her sister to the front of the two.

"Romanov… a curious name indeed… any relation to the violinist?" Countess Lily wondered.

"One of his daughters, he was my son after all…" Madame Feoderovna spoke up for the petite chorus girl, tongue-tied at the sudden offer.

"She's been taking lessons from a great teacher!" Maria continued to persuade.

"From whom?"


The question made her uneasy. Anastasia was forced to never reveal the identity of the person who taught her, after all; he never showed himself to her… so she had to choose her words carefully "I… I don't know, sir…"

"Oh, not you as well!" Countess Lily cried out, obviously miffed at how superstitious the performers were "But since the only option is to cancel the show…"

"Let her sing for you. She has been well taught." Madame Feoderovna continued.

"From the beginning of the aria then; Madame…" Gregory began to play the aria once more…

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye." She sang hesitantly before running away, however; her grandmother had stopped her dead in her tracks by tapping her cane to the ground "Remember me once in a while. Please promise me you'll try…"

"Lily, this is doing nothing for my nerves!"

"Don't fret, Vlad…"

"When you find that, once again, you long to take your heart back and be free… if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me…" Her clear, powerful soprano began to resound the theatre as her confidence slowly grew.


On the night of the gala, her voice soared like a songbird throughout the Opera House, her stage fright was banished in an instant "We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea. But if you happen to remember… stop and think of me… Think of August, when the world was green; don't think about the way things might have been…" Every word was clear and full of her own raw emotions as she wore her heart on her sleeve "Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned. Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. Think of me, please say you'll think of me! Whatever is you choose to be! There will never be a day when I won't think of you…"


Dmitri's eyes darted onto the girl he remembered from when he was ten… "Can it be? Can it be Anastasia?" He wondered before giving a standing ovation "Brava! Brava!" His friend, Count Ipolitov and the two managers looked at the young man in bewilderment as he began to reminisce over their fond childhood memories.


Ten years ago…

It was a bright and breezy summer day, a perfect day for going to the beach, and that was exactly what little Dmitri and his father was doing… "Look Dima!" His father smiled fondly as he carried his son on his shoulders "Bet you can see all the way to Finland from up there, Dima!" The strong wind ruffled their dark hair… it felt nice for the boy to have a change of scenery… He had been inside all day studying arithmetic and reading long-dead authors in Latin, and frankly, it was boring him. Granted he was the perfect student—he dedicated himself completely to his schoolwork—but he much preferred being outside at the beach on a hot, summer day such as this to being stuck indoors.

He breathed in the salty sea air and grinned. It was really the perfect day for a swim. His dark eyes skimmed over the water but froze upon seeing a honey-blonde haired girl on the shore. His breath caught in his throat for a moment and slowly a smile began to form on his face. In that short moment dozens of words must have come to the young count's mind. in an attempt to describe the girl, but none of them seemed accurate enough. 'Beautiful' was too cliché, 'pretty' was too much of an understatement—'angelic'? 'Angelic' worked.

Thus he stood there staring in a rather unbecoming way for a count for a good few seconds until he realized that the girl's expression had changed. She threw her arms in the air as if to catch something. His eyes followed a red object soaring through the air and plummeting toward the waves—a scarf. The boy immediately started running toward the ocean.

His father saw this and cried out in worry "Dmitri! Come here!" He called, as he followed his son "Dmitri Sudayev!"

Dmitri, however, was not listening to his father's pleas. All he thought about was the look of distress on that girl's face. "Don't worry, I'll get it!" he shouted reassuringly as he dashed past her and into the surf, swimming rather expertly toward where he had seen the scarf fall. With a great intake of breath, the boy went under. A few minutes passed and he re-emerged from the sea, clutching the red scarf. Scarf and boy were both soaked, but he was grinning nonetheless.

"I'm terribly sorry that it got wet—but here it is." He apologized, handing the scarf to her. Water was dripping off the ends of his hair, and his clothes were completely soaked through. In addition, he was cold and shivering slightly. He must have looked a sight, but at the moment he didn't care. All the young count wanted was to see the girl smile again. The girl waded in about ankle deep to meet the boy as he swam toward the shore and walked up to her, handing her the scarf, both he and the scarf completely soaked through.

She laughed when the boy apologized for it getting the scarf wet. "Oh, don't worry about it. It will dry out." She took the scarf from him, grinning from ear to ear and then began wringing it out. "Thank you for getting it. My name is Anastasia, by the way. Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov. But you can just call me Anastasia."

He smiled when she laughed and pushed some of his hair out of his face so he could better see. She had a lovely laugh—like music, almost. Her smile was quite charming as well—and contagious. There was something about her face that seemed to put him at ease. Usually he was very shy around other people, especially those he had not yet met—but then again, he had not really met too terribly many people, and hardly any his age. But the young nobleman was sure that she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

He took her hand gingerly and kissed it as he had been taught in his lessons in etiquette. "It's nice to meet you, Mademoiselle." he stated, beaming as he let go of her hand. "I'm Dmitri, Count Dmitri Sudayev." he added after a moment, remembering how his mother had told him to always state his title. "You have a very pretty name..."

Anastasia blushed a pretty peach shade as he took her hand and she smiled as he bowed to her, forming a beautiful friendship…


"What a change! You're really not a bit the little girl that you were once back when you were eight! She may not remember me, but I remember her..." Dmitri smiled to himself.


"We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea. But please promise me that sometimes, you will think…" Anastasia continued before beginning the cadenza leading up to the end of the show "Of me!"

The whole house went mad, rising to its feet, shouting, cheering, clapping, Anastasia bowed gratefully as the curtain closed…