Disclaimer: Leroux owns it, not me. Sorry.
A/N I wrote this according to Leroux's version more than Andrew Lloyd Webber's version. I personally don't see the point of what I wrote, as I feel like I'm just summarizing the story. I hope it doesn't come off like that. Delusional!Christine is fun to write, really, you should try it. I warn that this is slightly fluffy at the end, and I rather hate how I wrote it near the end. This was written in class, so editing may be at a later date. Oh well. Reviews and constructive criticism is welcomed. If you hate the way I ended it, deal. That's how it happened, it's not changing. :) Edited 27 October


She had always dreamed of living in a fairytale. Her entire childhood had been spent listening to the elaborate stories her father would make up for her. She wanted nothing more than to live in one of those stories - to be kidnapped by the evil villain only to be rescued by the knight in shining armor later on. Her thoughts were consumed with endless fairytales.

When her father died, all traces of his stories died as well. She no longer thought of her princes and far off castles, and very rarely did the story of the angel of music grace her daydreams. She renounced storybook love and settled for living in reality, far away from her dreams.

It was when she went to Paris that she felt the stirrings of her old stories arise once more. Whispers floated through the opera house, all of them concerning an opera ghost. A tremor of breathless anticipation ran down Christine's spine each time those whispers passed by her ears. Perhaps her father would keep his promise and send her the angel of music. Finally, after years of mourning, she opened her heart and allowed her soul to fly free. Her fairytales were to entrance her once more.

The first time she heard the voice in her dressing room she went into ecstasies. Her father had sent her the angel of music! Grateful, she prayed to her father, blessing his soul for sending her this gift. Her happiness increased twofold from what it had been before.

From the moment she first heard her angel, she was convinced that he was her night in shining armor. Silly as a schoolgirl, she would skip giddily about the theatre keeping a sharp eye for the villain and eagerly awaiting her meetings with her angel. Her stories intoxicated her, consuming her every thought.

When Raoul barged into her dressing room the night she took Carlotta's place, Christine found herself confused. She had been waiting for the villain from her father's stories to come, and she expected it to be in the form of Raoul. His sudden adoration for her, combined with his extreme jealousy caused her to turn away from him, with the notion that he was the villain.

A chain of events soon after caused her to slowly start changing her mind. After Erik kidnapped her and brought her to his lair, Christine started to look differently on her angel. She couldn't find the sweet, coaxing voice that had sung to her through the mirror. Dismayed, she tried to convince herself that Erik truly was her daring hero. Even when he raged at her for tearing off his mask Christine still held firm to the idea that he was not her villain.

Opening night for Il Muto came around and Christine waited in the wings with baited breath. She was certain that some divine act of God would show her who was to be the villain and who was to be the knight. The Fates were in her favor, for they gladly showed her who was who.

It wasn't until she was safe in Raoul's arms on the roof of the opera house that realization hit her. Through her naivety she had mistaken the villain for the knight. In tears, she clung to Raoul, pledging her love to him, hoping he would save her. She was so immersed in her wanting her fairytale ending that she had missed the fa├žade that had been played out before her eyes. Her angel, enraged at her for refusing him, turned against her and sang no more. Christine was in torment. Her heart ripped in two, she did the only thing she could - pray to her father.

She arrived at his grave in tears. Falling on the cold, damp ground she cried out angrily to him. She cursed his stories, saying that they led her falsely. She called him a liar. She wanted the fairytale ending he had promised her, where was it? What had she done to not deserve it? He had sent her the angel of music, but her angel was slowly turning into a demon. Over and over she asked him why it had to happen like this.

Her voice dying, Christine laid still on the earth, tears falling down her pale cheeks. She hated the morbid and depressing thoughts that were starting to pass through her mind. Her mind in despair, she almost missed the appearance of her angel, standing over her father's grave. In a trance, she convinced herself that this was a sign from her father and started towards Erik, his soft voice mesmerizing her. My angel, my fairytale, she kept repeating, keeping her eyes on him. It's my fairytale ending.

Her trance was broken when Raoul appeared and started calling to her. Confused, she looked from Erik to Raoul, trying desperately to discern her who the villain and who was her hero. Erik beckoned to her, trying to capture her soul and song while Raoul stood desperately trying to capture her heart and her love. Christine picked Roaul.

As they hurried back to the opera house, Christine buried herself in Raoul's arms, begging him for forgiveness. Her stroked her hair and told her that she need not ask for forgiveness. They pledged their love for once another again and string of chaste and euphoric kisses ensued.

Jittery, Christine did the best to convince herself that nothing would happen during Don Juan Triumphant. She knew better than to fool herself. The villain wasn't done with his plan yet - he would come again. He appeared at the end and on stage. Startled at first, Christine soon found herself wondering if this would ever end. She no longer wanted to be the damsel in distress. She wanted to live happily ever after. Calmly, she exposed the villain to the audience, showing the man behind the mask. She was whisked down to the liar once more. Though slightly nervous, she tried to stay composed. She knew the story was nearing its end and like all fairytales it would have a happy ending. Her prince would rescue her and carry her off into the sunset. In an act of defiance Christine told Erik that her prince would come to save her. She knew Raoul would be there to save her. Erik laughed and told her that her sweet prince would only meet his death.

The moment Christine realized Raoul was in danger she fell to her feet in a wild fury, begging desperately for Raoul's life. She screamed at Erik to let her have her fairytale ending. She told him that he wouldn't win, that the villains never win. Angry tears poured down her cheeks as she stamped her feet like a little girl. It isn't fair. I want my fairytale ending. My father promised me. It isn't fair. she kept saying, looking up at the heavens. It isn't fair.

Watching Erik laugh as she decided whom to choose, Christine was suddenly struck with understanding. She had had her storybook ending for a moment and then it slipped through her fingers. Her stories had deceived her. There would be no knight to slay the villain and whisk her away on a white horse. She alone was the one who would have to choose.

She gave herself to Erik to save Raoul. As she pulled away from the kiss she saw the fanatic look disappear from Erik's eye to be replaced with regret. She almost expected him to turn into a handsome prince. Beauty and the Beast......the princess who kisses the frog...happy ever after. Christine's mind whirled with possible fairytale ending. When Erik told her to leave with Raoul and to forget him she stared in confusion. He was the villain; he was supposed to make her stay with him. Something had gone wrong.

He must have seen her confusion, for he shook his head slowly. He told her to go off with her hero and to live her fairytale ending. Christine, smiling softly, kissed him on the cheek. She thanked him and ran off to join Raoul, thoughts of her hero running through her mind.

The night before their wedding Raoul gave Christine a present, wrapped up in the finest paper. Untying it excitedly she found a beautiful leather bound book. Inside were all the stories her father had told her with gorgeous illustrations. Christine fingered the gold edged pages gently, her eyes filling with tears. She turned to the back of the book and was surprised to find one story in the book that had not been told to her by her father. When she finished reading it she looked up at Raoul, her blue eyes full of tears.

The last story was Christine's own. Everything that had happened in the last few months was there on the page, illustrations of her, Erik, and Raoul filling the adjacent pages. Placing the book down she smothered Raoul in a hug, kissing him frantically.

Her life had become a fairytale and she was finally going to get to live happily every after.