Ok so here I go again. I found this idea in a notebook and thought "Why not?"
Christine groaned as she rolled over. 'Oh dear God, what happened?' she thought to herself, barely opening one eye and then immediately shutting it, blinded by the sunlight streaming in through the window. She vaguely registered the sound of someone throwing up in the bathroom. 'I guess Meg did even worse than me'. She tried to piece together the night before, but most of it was in a tequila-induced fog. She gingerly sat up, holding her head in one hand as she muttered "Why did I let Meg convince me to come to Vegas?"
She knew why. After Christine had told Meg that it seemed like Raoul, her boyfriend of 18 months, was planning to propose, Meg squealed and insisted that they have a girls' weekend, a "pre-engagement bachelorette party", as she put it. Christine knew that Meg just loved any excuse for a weekend out of town, but she agreed. Besides, she figured it would be good to get away and think about if she really wanted to accept Raoul's proposal. He was a good guy, and she knew that in most people's eyes the fact that his family was one of the richest families in the state, 'maybe even the country' made it a no-brainer. But a tiny voice in her head kept nagging at her to consider this step carefully. She couldn't put her finger on why, but she had doubts.
As she looked around the room, Christine slowly became concerned. She wasn't actually in her room. She didn't recognize this room at all. The blankets were thrown everywhere, there was two empty bottles of champagne sitting on a table, and it slowly dawned on her that she was laying under the one sheet left on the bed completely naked. And there were clothes she didn't recognize thrown over a chair. Suddenly, she had a flash of memory that made her bolt out of bed. She remembered one of those cheesy wedding chapels. As she moved toward the table, still holding her aching head, she looked down and saw a single sheet of official-looking paper. She picked it up and gasped. "Oh God" she whispered. She was holding a marriage certificate.
She scanned it quickly, hoping that it was all a joke. There was her name, Christine Daae, and a man's name that rang no bells for her, Erik Leroux. As Christine read, her hands started shaking. She dropped the certificate, frantically looking for her clothes. Just then, the bathroom door opened, and she watched in shock as a tall man wearing boxers and a strange mask weakly walked out of the bathroom. "What happened?" she squeaked. "Are you Erik?"
He shakily nodded his head. "Sorry, I'm sure the best way to be greeted this morning was by the sound of last night revisiting." he muttered sarcastically. Christine realized that she was standing there wide-eyed and naked, and she moved over to where a robe hung on the door. Erik sat down, holding his head and he groaned. "How much tequila was involved last night?" he asked. Christine chuckled and said "I'm not sure, but we topped it with champagne too." He looked up and saw the empty bottles. "Why?" Before she could answer, he moved to where she had dropped the paper. He studied it for a moment, losing all the color in his face as he looked at her and said "Did we get married?"
Ok, how's that for a start? Is anyone interested in more?