Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z, this piece of Fiction was solely created for entertainment value on a non-monetary earning level. Sorta OOC-y ness, but that's up to the reader to decide fully. I tried my damnedest to keep them in character as much as possible...well for a yaoi fiction anyway.

A/N: Special thanks to Nelly for giving me the pairing idea. (Hope you like it Nelly!) Also part of my esteem goes to Ted Keegan for his AMAZING vocals at the Phantom play I so thankfully got to view in Boston. Don't worry, only the first couple chapters actually deal with the play itself, the rest revolves around personal themes I've dredged up from the music and performance to twist at my whim to make "this here" fanfiction.

Pairings: Vegeta x Piccolo YAOI!!! No likey -- No read! Easy as it get's folks. Actual yaoi not for a few chapters yet, sorry guys, have to set up some plot you know.

"..." Denotes speaking

_..._ Denotes thought

^...^ Denotes the few lyrics that are in the first chapter.

Phantom Daze

He paced, cape flittering about his legs as he tried his best not to wring his hands in anticipation. "Christine" runs by, adjusting her costume and sees him standing in a nervous stupor. Giving him a big smile and thumbs up she rushes off to help the others get ready. He could hear the people filing in, _What the hell was I thinking? I don't like people, and now I voluntarily put myself in front of hundreds of them._ With a shaky grunt he runs a hand down his bone white face and glares at his reflection in the mirror. _Everyone is going to be watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake...hell I'll probably trip over my own damned cape._ "Christine" shuffles by again, stopping to help him with his makeup. It was her fault to begin with. Her real name was Anne, she had caught him one night humming on the roof and after getting over her initial fright she asked him to sing. He never thought much of it, everyone had a voice but he had never been complimented so strongly before. After all a voice is something everyone has right? The directors had shown him differently, after singing only two bars he felt humiliated. The women in the front row had tears in their eyes and the director told him to stop only after he just started. He turned to leave, a deep blush on his cheeks when the women in the front leapt to their feet with applause and Anne came running from offstage and latched on to him in a fit of giggles.

Anne had been the sole reason to stay, he enjoyed singing, but never in front of others. A stagehand ran by, swinging a clipboard and yelling about the curtain. Forcing the butterflies in his stomach to stop twirling, he tugs an invisible wrinkle from his cape and pulls the mask down across his face. The orchestra stops tuning and for the first time he peaks to the audience, a packed house. Panic grips his chest and he thinks for the umpteenth time, _Kami, what the hell am I doing here?_


"Vegeta hurry up or we're going to be late!" Vegeta fiddled with his bowtie and swore to himself. Bulma had begged him to take her to this opera and he had blatantly refused until she explained that Yamcha had backed out of their date. Feeling a sort of compassion as he had stood her up numerous times and he knew that Yamcha would get a rise out of learning the ex-couple had gone out, Vegeta had begrudgingly accepted. Now he mentally kicked himself as she screamed at him from the main floor. He never liked to dress up, he always felt constricted. To make things worse, he had asked Trunks what an opera was in a round about way and gotten an answer he didn't like.

Running a gloved hand across his spikes, Vegeta stalked into the hallway, "Dammit woman I'm coming!" Slamming the door shut he thudded down the stairs and walked past the fuming woman who stood glaring at her watch and tapping her foot. Ignoring her, he walked out the front door with a scowl.

They arrived late, just as Bulma had shouted at him repeatedly in the car. She stepped from the car and walked quickly to her family's private box, Vegeta following with a small smirk. Sitting in the high-backed chair, Vegeta set his feet on the rim until Bulma slapped them down. Growling, he slumped forward with his eyes on the stage at the dancing and singing in front of him. It wasn't nearly as unpleasant as Trunks had told him it would be, it reminded him vaguely of the blood plays he had watched on Vegetasei as a boy. Sitting up with a little more interest he watched the characters intently, trying to pick up the storyline he was missing. Bulma watched his settling and sighed in relaxation.

The stage lights dimmed and everyone clapped. Vegeta came out of his reverie and frowned, he was actually starting to enjoy himself and now it seemed the show was over. As he stood, Bulma hissed at him, "Vegeta sit down! Where are you going?!" As the lights came up and people clapped again, Vegeta sat with simple grace and ignored the glares from the other side of the box. A new character rose from the set and Vegeta eyed him carefully, it seemed the evildoer had arrived. _About time something interesting happened._

Gliding to the center of the stage, the man seemed to freeze under the lights. The orchestra hesitated before starting again, Vegeta suppressed a deep laugh at the poor fool sweating himself on the main floor. As the violins started again, the man seemed to snap out of himself and spread his arms before him. Vegeta grinned, settling back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Look at that fool, like a deer caught in the headlights." Bulma slapped his arm.

The man on stage turned, looking up at their box. Vegeta could have sworn he was staring right at him. The man on stage took a deep breath and a luscious deep tenor resonated across the stage. Eyes widening slightly, Vegeta sat up and leaned over the balcony, resting his chin in his hands. The words blew breathy across the audience, Vegeta could hear dozens of sighs from woman below him and one from Bulma as her eyes sheened over and she clasped her hands to her chest. Grunting, he turned back and watched as the "Phantom" skittered across the stage and then vanished in a plume of smoke. Feminine squeals echoed as thunderous applause ripped. Vegeta clapped, slow at first but then more, the man had a talent he had to give him that.


As the lights came up, he stood in their brilliance and froze. He couldn't see their faces, but he could see silhouettes of numerous bodies, row after row of them. Some invisible force clamped his mouth shut. _Kami, I can't do this..._ The orchestra faltered before starting again, he saw Anne from the corner of his eye, as she was biting the tips of her fingers. The audience shifted uncomfortably, a blush starts to heat his face.

A scoffing to his right makes him look up, _Oh, Kami, no! Why is he here?_ He could feel the sweat prickle the back of his neck. He turned to stare, _Ignorant bastard, he's used to being the center of attention. Hell if he isn't he throws a tantrum. Fool!? Fool am I? Fuck you Vegeta, I'll show you..._ Moving, he can feel his lungs open up and with that deep breath he began to sing. He watches the balcony intently, the face he watches changes into a look of wonder. With a small grin, he takes another breath and belts as best he can, the audience sighing and gasping. Resisting the urge to turn and see what makes them react so much he walks swiftly to his cued spot and is enveloped in smoke.

The audience explodes into applause. Pulling the mask from his face he lets out a deep breath. Anne runs around, smiling broadly. Without saying a word she runs back to the curtain, waiting for her turn to dance onto the stage. Removing the plugs from his ears he grimaces as the flutes pipe up. Replacing them he swears, "How and the fuck can they listen to those things?" Looking at his face in the mirror he notices a small patch of green is showing through the brilliant white makeup. The audience would never notice, dipping his fingers into the white paint he slathers it over the stark color of his skin with a bitter smile. Hell if he was going to take a chance with Vegeta in the balcony. Besides, his favorite song was coming and would be damned if Vegeta would ruin it for him.


The scenes passed and everytime the Phantom graced the stage, Bulma noticed Vegeta stiffen and watch with rapt fascination. She wanted to giggle as he watched with wide orbs and his mouth opened slightly and breathing at a faster rate. If she didn't know any better she would have thought Vegeta found him exciting, in more than a singer/audience kind of way. Watching in her own enjoyment she caught herself with the same look at points though, the new tenor they had found for the Phantom was phenomenal. After almost every lengthy piece he sang she could hear women sigh with pleasure. His voice was rich and it reached to such a bassy depth that Bulma was sure that he could do more with his voice than what he had shown. Smiling at Vegeta as he applauded, "He's quite amazing isn't he?"

Vegeta glowered at her, still clapping, "He's not hard to listen too." He settled back in his chair. He was amazing, and Vegeta was thoroughly amazed. There was something in his voice, a soft pain that edged the songs that made them so real. Vegeta watched him constantly, sometimes not even seeing the other characters until he had left the stage.

"You're going to love the next part." Bulma sighed, looking at the stage. Vegeta watched her queerly for a moment before he sat straight again, the Phantom stood at the center of layers of candles all shimmering. "Christine" stood in front of him, looking around her in awe. When the Phantom lay a hand on her cheek and began to sing, Vegeta felt the world start to fall beneath his feet.


Anne stood in front of Piccolo, feeling confident behind his makeup and costume. His favorite song was here, and he was going to enjoy it. He watched Anne act beautifully, as though she were Alice waking in wonderland. Piccolo had watched Vegeta now and then during the acts to gauge his reaction. He was surprised to see him snap to attention whenever Anne was onstage, but he understood that she had a strong stage presence. Hell whenever they went offstage, the applause was thunderous. Piccolo knew that Vegeta enjoyed his singing though, he could see him with his mouth agape. Piccolo frowned, it was just like him to take the wind out of his sails, it must be hard for him to imagine someone being better than him at something.

As the music started softly, he could feel his heartbeat slow. Every move he made was graceful with deliberate slowness and poise. The words had connected deeply with him the first time he had heard them, they seemed to fit his changed dark world where he turned his cheek to fight along side his former enemies. Smiling softly up at Vegeta he took a breath, vowing he wouldn't look at him again, he wouldn't ruin this song.

^Nighttime sharpens heightens each sensation. Darkness wakes and stirs imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses helpless to resist the notes I write, the power of the music of the night.^ Piccolo couldn't resist, he looked up to see Vegeta nearly drooling, clutching the balcony. He resisted a smile.

^...grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender. Hearing is believing, music is deceiving. Hard as lightening, soft as candle light...^ Cocking his head slightly, Piccolo could have sworn he heard a crack.

^...close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth, and the truth isn't what you want to see...^ a sharper, louder crack comes from the same direction. Trying not to break his concentration, Piccolo looks at Anne and watches her face.

^Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before! Close your eyes and let music set you free!...only then can you belong to me. Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in, to the power of the music that I write...You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the music of the night!^

Holding the note strong, the candles slowly fade out. The audience sits in soft rapture, Anne is looking up at him with tears in her eyes trying her best not to let them fall. A loud snap and Piccolo's head jerks toward it. His mouth goes slack, Vegeta clasped the oak so hard it had split and splintered in his hands. He stares intently at the stage, his eyes far away. The audience stands in an abrupt ovation. Vegeta shakes his head and his eyes catch Piccolo's, his gaze making Piccolo shift uncomfortably. The lights dim and they leave the stage, Piccolo swears softly to himself, _Does he know it's me? Kami what am I going to do?_