Fang: A warning to all of you. The beginning of this chapter contains yaoi. Really dirty SpongeBob yaoi. It will disturb you. THOU HAST BEEN WARNED, HUMAN! And whatever Kaen might say, it wasn't written by me!

Kaen: Whatever floats your boat, Fang, but you did say you had dirty thoughts about him on your blog at the end of FANG…

Fang: I blame myself for allowing you an opportunity to show just how sick your mind is.

Kaen: I know! Isn't it great! And by the way, muchos creditos to MangaLuver1423. She came up with the idea for this chapter. I was originally just going to have Fang write his lemony SpongeBob yaoi, but she came up with an even better idea for our dear Fangles! Thanks, Dez!

Fang: This is either going to make me look really cool or really stupid.

Kaen: My guess is…both. Oh, and by the way, Max is gonna bash the hell out of Twilight in this chapter, especially Bella, so you will probably want to skip over her rant if you, for some reason, like Twilight. And also there will be very brief profanity from Iggy and a lot of suggestive content courtesy of Ari, the Voice, and Fang. Just thought I'd give a heads-up. Now on with my favorite chapter so far!

~0~

I stared in disbelief at the computer screen. What the heck had Fang been doing? What was all this? It was a really weird story about Spongebob characters, but it wasn't at all like the cartoon Gazzy made us watch with him. This…This was…

"Whoa," said Ari, coming up behind me and peering over my shoulder at the screen. "Your boyfriend's got some messed up stuff here, dude."

I just have to wonder: What were his reference materials?

"Shut up!" I snarled. Whatever point the Voice was trying to get at, I didn't like it. I started to read the stories in detail, and not just certain explicit words or phrases. And almost without knowing it, I read them out loud to myself. "Squidward thrusted, harder and harder, in Mr. Krabs' tender red…What?"

Then, through my shock, I noticed that there were several word documents open. I clicked on another one and read. "SpongeBob emitted a sweet moan of pleasure as Patrick explored him, and rubbed his little yellow…WHAT?"

I switched to another document. I started to read, but found it so ridiculously dirty that I couldn't get the words out. "What the hell? How can Larry the Lobster even…um…do…that…with Plankton?"

Plankton? The little green phallic symbol?

"If you're trying to mentally scar me, Voice, mission accomplished!"

Well, to the observant mind, SpongeBob is full of suggestive subliminal messages.

Yeah, and apparently to you, 'observant' means 'perverted.' Now shut up!

"Holy crap," Ari laughed. "I never thought emo boy had it in him!"

"Oh, stop it, Ari." I made a noise somewhere between a huff and a groan. "When I find Fang, we are going to have a very long talk about this and – Aah!" I jumped about ten feet into the air in fright at the sudden loud sound.

A huge burst of organ music had suddenly boomed from out of nowhere. It scared the crap out of me, but while I was hanging on to the back of a chair trying to restart my heart, Ari was impressed. "Whoa, that's cool," he said. Then he started singing along. Er, sort of. "Dun, dun dun dun dun dun! Dun dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun dun dun!

"Hey, wait," I said, breathing somewhat normally again and straightening up. "Isn't that – "

Suddenly, the room was illuminated by the half-light of many candles, lighting and burning apparently of their own volition.

"Whoa," Ari said. "What is this, Yankee Candle Company?"

Before I had time to get freaked out over all the candles burning by themselves and just how many there were, I was shocked by something else – Fang had apparently remodeled his room. It looked like it was somewhere underground, like in a cave or something. A gigantic organ dominated the wall to my right, and it was surrounded by papers – actually they looked more like sheets of parchment or something - with music written on them. I noticed a feather quill and a bottle of ink, too. What was this, 1881? And since when was Fang interested in music?

"Hey, what's up with the huge bird thing?" Ari said, pointing to a large swan-shaped bed. I had to admit, it looked pretty comfortable…and strangely, not out of place. But it still begged the question – What was it doing here?

"Okay, that's strange…But – What the heck? Why is there a lake in here?" I yelped, suddenly seeing a miniature river being pumped from the side of the door to an equally miniature lake in the corner of the room. The look was completed by a little boat floating on the water's surface. How was that even possible?

I had barely had thirty seconds to take in all this when the organ music boomed again and a familiar voice rang out from somewhere far above.

"THE FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGTOM OF THE OPERA IS HEEEEEEEERE…!" Fang half-shouted and half-sang as he leaped from wherever he had been lurking up near the ceiling. He wore all black, as usual, but he had also donned a black cape that flowed out behind him between his huge black wings, which were spread out in their full glory. The fact that something was covering the whole right side of his face was the last thing I noticed before he crash-landed onto the floor in a spectacular faceplant.

"Fang!" I cried, and rushed over to his unmoving form on the ground. "Are you all right?"

"Uh, he just jumped from the ceiling and smashed into the floor with his face," Ari said. "Why do you need to ask if he's all right, when he clearly isn't?"

"Shut up, Ari," I snapped, and then turned back to Fang. "Fang?"

He was still and silent for a moment, then murmured something. Actually, it sounded like he was trying to sing again! "Fang?" I said again. "Are you okay?"

In response, he sang again, his voice muffled by the floor. This time I could understand what he was trying to sing. It sounded like 'The Faaaangtom of the Opera is theeeeere…' Fang lifted his head and turned to me. "Inside your paaaaaaants!" he finished.

"What?" I said, surprised and confused.

"Oh, wait, wrong lyrics," Fang said. He sang again, correcting the mistake.

Mistake? Are you quite sure that was a mistake, Max?

Yes, Voice, I am quite sure, thank you.

I don't know, Max. It could be like the movie, with the stockings and the accident-or-Phantom conundrum…

Shut up, Voice, I mentally snapped and listened to Fang sing. Actually, he didn't have that bad of a voice.

"The Faaaangtom of the Opera is theeeeere, inside your miiiiiiiiiind!" Fang looked pleased with himself, and I could see now that the thing that covered the side of his face was a white, expressionless theater mask.

"Fang…" I said. "What are you doing?"

"I, Max, have been blessed by the gods of theater, so that I was lucky enough to discover Phantom of the Opera!" Fang said happily.

"How'd that happen?" I asked, trying half-successfully to cock an eyebrow. What was up with Fang? Why was he acting like this, and talking so strangely? It was really out of character.

"I was in Blockbuster one day, looking for a movie of the Wes Craven and-slash-or Steven Spielberg variety. Then, I saw a movie that looked even better! The guy on the cover reminded me of me – dark, brooding, and sexy. So sexy…" Fang stopped speaking for a moment, appearing to have zoned out. His eyes became unfocused and his mouth half-opened.

Remember what I said about Fang being ga-

Shut up, Voice!

Though he has a point…

Voice…Just…Be quiet, will you? "Fang!" I said, to jolt him out of whatever fantasy he was having.

He jumped a little, and his eyes came back into focus. "Wha? Oh, yes," he continued. "Fortunately, this great movie of movies was in the 'Buy' section! So, out of curiosity I bought it, and I came home, and I watched it. And then, so blown away was I, that I watched it again! And again! And again, and again, and again for fifty-five dozen times."

"Wow, good for you, Fang," I said, a little satisfied at finding out why Fang had been holing himself up in his room for the past many days, but a lot more worried about his current condition and highly probable obsession.

"But, wait! It gets infinitely better, my dear Max!" Fang said gleefully. Wait, gleefully? Fang? Okay, this was really starting to get weird. "See, when I was paying extra special attention to the credits, I found out that the movie was adapted from a play! So I just had to see it!"

"Great, Fang…Wait a minute, did you go see it? How?" I said, shocked.

"Oh, see it I did, Max! I searched every performance of Phantom in the U.S. and England, formulated a schedule, and then went out to see every single one of them! Broadway, West End, Las Vegas, some high school on the East Coast – "

"Wait, Fang, how is that physically possible? It's not possible for you to have seen all of them! And how did we not know about this, you sneaking out to go see – "

"Silence!" Fang stepped right up in front of me and put two leather-gloved fingers over my lips, and when I stopped talking, he stepped back and continued his story. "I went out and saw the performances. And I was even more amazed by the play version! The actors were wonderful, and the music was so much better when you were right up close to it! By the way, Gerard Butler was pretty good, and I'm sure he tried his best, and did a lot better than most other actors could have done; but I found the original performance online, and Michael Crawford just blows him out of the water! All hail the original Phantom!"

"All right, hail, hail, Gesundheit, but Fang – "

"Okay, now this has all gotten me excited! I need to sing!" Fang announced, and he snapped his fingers. The organ music burst into the room again. Fang leaped back into an elevated part of a corner, did a kind of swishy thing with his cape that, I had to admit, was pretty cool, but didn't begin to sing. Instead, he looked at me like I was supposed to do something.

I just stood there for a second until Ari stage-whispered my name from behind me. I turned my head to see him holding up sheets of music. No, wait, one sheet had music, the other had just lyrics, written in careful, elegant script. Okay, was Fang losing his mind? Fang scrawls. He does not script.

I looked harder at the lyrics sheet and saw that the first verse had 'Maxtine' written before it. The next had 'Fangtom,' and the titles alternated. "Oh!" I said out loud, realizing that I was supposed to start, although I couldn't understand for the life of me why Fang had altered our names.

"Um…" I cleared my throat and began to sing. I didn't have a very good voice, but I think I did my best. "In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came. That voice which calls to me, and speaks my name. And do I dream again? For now I find…The Phantom of the Opera is – "

"No! It's 'Fangtom!' You said it wrong."

"What? But that's what it said on the lyrics sheet!" I said indignantly, pointing behind me at the sheet in Ari's hand, forgetting that Fang couldn't see Ari.

But Fang didn't seem too affected by the odd fact that he was just seeing a sheet of paper suspended in midair. "Huh. I suppose I'll have to edit the floating lyrics sheet. Now – "

"Wait, you don't think that's at all weird?"

Fang fixed me with a stare that managed to seem serious and amused at the same time. "Maximum, I am the Fangtom of the Opera. I make torches float, candles light themselves even when wet, gates open on their own, and the magical piano play by itself. A simple piece of paper really is nothing. And you still got it wrong. Now, sing, woman!" he shouted, swishing his cape again.

"Fine!" I snapped, and started over. "And do I dream again? For now I find…The Faaaaaangtom of the Opera is there, inside my – "

Ari laughed, and muttered "Skirt!" within a fake coughing fit.

"Mind," I finished, with an irritated glance in the chuckling Eraser's direction.

Fang's face was no longer excited, but had turned stoic and glaring as he sang. I don't want to sound like a hormonal teenage girl, but his voice was so enchanting…I almost forgot to breathe as I listened.

"Sing once again with me, our strange duet. My power over you – " he waved his hand overdramatically, as though casting a hypnotic spell – "grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me, to glance behind…"

"That doesn't make any sense with me – "

"Silence!" cried Fang, and he jumped forward and put two fingers over my lips again. "Not while I'm trying to sing like Michael Crawford. Nobody interrupts Michael Crawford."

"But you're not – "

"I said silence! I am attempting to perfect my Michael Crawford impression so I can be the true Fangtom!" He removed his fingers and leaped back into his previous position. He sang again, his eyes daring anything to interrupt him again. "And though you turn from me, to glance behind…The Faaaaaangtom of the Opera is there, inside your pants!"

"Fang!"

"Wow. His internal struggle to keep his eyes on your face is impressive," Ari observed.

"Mind! I meant mind! Sorry, sorry!"

"…Just go on."

"But it's your turn."

"Oh." I glanced back at the lyrics sheet. "Those who have seen your face draw back in fear…"

"Yes, emo stares can be extremely unnerving if the guy is really screwed up. And since I'm thinking your boyfriend here is on the verge of flying off the deep end…"

Shut up, Ari, I thought, hoping that somehow the message would get through.

"I am the mask you wear…" Wait a second, what?

"It's me they hear…" As he sang, I sang along in the same tune, "This makes no sense…"

Fang's eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips tightly together, but he didn't say anything.

"Your spirit and my voice…" we sang together. "In one combined…"

"That's not all you two will one day combine." Ari sing-songed with a wink and a waggle of the eyebrows.

I suppressed a growl and kept singing. "The Faaaaaaangtom of the Opera is there, inside my mind!" Thankfully, Fang did not say 'pants' that time.

When the background voices started to sing, I jumped again.

He's there, the Fangtom of the Opera…

Beware, the Fangtom of the Opera…

And I thought I heard another voice, regrettably not Fang's, inside my mind…

Voice? Are you singing along?

Huh? What? Uh…No…No, I…uh…wasn't singing. No. Not singing. Not at all.

Yeah. Right. Of course.

"In all your fantasies…" Fang sang (Hey, that rhymed!), breaking into my mental conversation. "You always knew, that man and mystery…"

"…Were both in you," I finished.

"Yeah, I'll bet both of you have had some real nice fantasies about each other," Ari teased.

"And in this labyrinth," we sang, "where night is blind, the Faaaaangtom of the Opera is here…"

"…Inside my mind," I sang, wondering where the 'night is blind' thing came from. I mean, the Phantom lived basically his whole life in darkness; he would have no trouble seeing in it.

"Sing, my angel of music," Fang crooned.

"Uh…" I looked at the lyrics sheet. "He's there, the Fangtom of the Opera…"

"Sing."

I looked at the sheet again. It was unhelpfully blank. But Fang seemed insistent, so I just decided to improvise.

"Laaaaaa, la, la, la, la, la, laaaaaa, laaaaaaaaa…"

"Sing."

"Laaaaaa-aaaaa-aaaaa-aaaa-aaaa-aaaa-aaa, laaaaaaa…"

"Sing for me…"

"Laaaaaaaaaaaa, laaa, laaaa-aaa-aaaa-aaaa-aaaaa-aaaa…"

"Sing, my angel of music!"

"LAAAAAAAAAA, LAAAAAA-AAAAA-AAAA-AAA-AAAA-AAAA-AAA…! LAAAAAAAA! LAAAAAAAA! LAAAAAA!"

"Sing for me!"

"LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA – Ackh! Gackh!" I raised my voice as high as it would go, but apparently it was too high to bear. My voice cracked, my vocal cords were strained and stinging, and I was coughing and hacking uncontrollably, and trying to regain the ability to breathe.

Behind me, Ari was laughing his stupid wolfy head off, hanging onto the organ for support. I even heard the Voice give a small chuckle at my inferior singing ability.

I turned my eyes up to Fang, and I thought I saw a little smirk on his masked face. But if it was there, it was only there for a split second, because his face was serious once again almost as soon as I looked back at him. "Well, there's plenty of room for improvement there," he muttered.

"Improvement? It's your fault! You made me strain my voice!" I complained hoarsely.

"Correction. You strained your voice because you are – "

"What? I'm what, exactly?" I snapped, putting my hands on my hips and raising one eyebrow. If Fang wanted to walk into a fight, he was going to get one if the wrong answer came out of his mouth.

"Er…Beautiful, mon chéri! Absolument magnifique!" Fang said quickly. I considered this for a moment, and then relaxed my challenging pose. He's maneuvered himself safely out of dangerous waters this time. I gave him a nod, indicating he was okay.

Visibly relieved, Fang turned to a miniature organ beside him and began to play. "I have brought you to the seat of sweet music's throne…"

"What freaking throne?" Ari muttered.

The one in the play, the Voice explained, now shut up.

Why, Voice, I thought with a mock-surprised tone, no teasing wisecracks any more, no clever one-liners? No jabs on my love life, or Fang's sexuality?

Well, aside from the fact that you forgot to add 'questionable' in between those last two words, no. I'd actually like to listen to Fang sing. He does have quite the…er…sexy voice.

Well then. That rendered both me and Ari speechless, which if you think about it was really an accomplishment.

Fang continued to sing – "…to this kingdom where all must pay homage to music, music."

I found myself having to agree with the Voice. He had such a pleasant, alluring voice…

Ah, young bird-kid love…

I internally scowled. Damn you, Voice, for being able to read my innermost thoughts.

"You have come here for one purpose and one alone!"

Unfortunately, Ari began talking again. "Let's see, Max and Fang alone in an unlit room with Fang being all dark and sexy, and a highly convenient swan-shaped bed over there. I wonder what purpose he's referring to?"

Shut up, Ari. Shut up, shut up, shut up.

"Since the moment I first heard you sing – "

Is he referring to that time he accidentally walked in on you in the shower?

We do not speak of that, Voice!

"I have needed you with me, to serve me – "

"Oh, da-yum!" Ari said, wagging his hips and doing that Z-snap thing.

If he weren't already dead, I'd be trying to break his neck again.

"To sing for my music, my music," Fang finished. He looked at me and smiled in a – dare I admit it? – slightly seductive manner. Okay, a little more than slightly. I was about to ask him what the hell was going on when he began to sing, his midnight black eyes locked on my light brown ones, and the words caught in my throat as I listened.

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation…" He took a few steps toward me. "Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination." Ari was chuckling to himself at the suggestiveness he found in the lyrics, but, as Fang came closer to me, I was trying as hard as I could not to hyperventilate.

Wait, what? Oh, crap, I sound like that annoying little expletive Bella Swan.

My greatest regret was allowing Nudge to force us all to join her in watching the Twilight series (a saga is defined as an epic. As in, a great, amazing story, something in that category. Twilight is a series, not a saga. Get it right, people) – A.K.A The Worst Movie in the History of Really Bad Movies. An entirely terrible, unoriginal plotline and the cliché books were so poorly written. It teaches young girls bad things, like you need a guy to complete you, true love is based on appearance and stalking, getting married and pregnant at eighteen will turn out great, and it's fine to give up your entire future just for one stupid guy. But, holy Fnick, I hated the main characters! E specially Bella Swan.

Bella just irritated me to no end. She was a whiny, vapid, and useless Mary Sue, ridiculously dependent on Edward, had to have him save her from near-death so many times it got boring, she had no personality, half the series is Bella going on about how hot Edward is (Seriously, girl, shut the Fnick up about his eyes!), fell in love with Edward too fast and with no good reason except that Edward was hot and he thought she smelled nice, she thought it was romantic that he snuck into her room at night and watched her sleep (If I were her and a guy did that, I would think it was the creepiest thing ever and get my cop father to either shoot him or get a restraining order on him), the reason Edward can't read her mind is because she didn't have one, Edward was technically a pedophile because of the hundred-year age difference, she's way too overdramatic, all her goals for the future revolve around Edward, she causes problems for everyone in her life and just cries about it and doesn't do a thing to fix it, she is Stephanie Meyer's shameless self-insert, she's supposed to be a total Mary Sue just like almost every other Twilight character, and how she toyed with Jacob and hurt him so many times just made me want to kill her in an extremely painful way.

Personally, I think Hermione Granger and Katniss Everdeen should have just come out of nowhere and kicked her ass during one of the movies. Just saying. And I really feel sorry for Renesmee, with the parents that she got stuck with. Poor kid. At least she still has an awesome soulmate like Jacob and a cool uncle like Emmett. I believe the world needs more Jacobs and Emmetts, not more Edwards and Bellas!

And you know what irritated me the most? After we finished the movies, Nudge remarked that if they made a movie of our lives, it should be just like Twilight, and Catherine Hardwicke should direct it and Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson should play me and Fang. What the Fnick is that? Kristen Stewart is a terrible actress (they could have employed a zombie to play Bella for all she was worth) and Robert Pattinson is ugly. I mean, I could handle him as Cedric Diggory, he was decent in that, but anything past that I don't like. And neither of them even look remotely like us. It's just messed up.

Wow, Max, what a spirited rant.

Yes, Voice, I'm quite proud of myself. But I digress: Fang is singing.

"Silently the senses abandon their defenses," he sang softly, beautifully. I froze as he stepped closer to me, then reached out slowly and brushed his fingers along my neck, his touch feather light. It was actually a kind of pleasant sensation, but before I could work out how it made me feel, the fingers retracted and Fang took a half-step back. "Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor…"

"It's the middle of the day, what the heck is he talking about?" Ari said.

"Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender…"

"Grasp…tender…what?" Ari choked out between laughs. I resisted the urge to scowl at him. And who taught him all this stuff, anyway? He's seven, for crying out loud! Must have been some pervy whitecoat.

Actually, Max, I believe it was a member of his Eraser pack that, ah, shall we say, educated him.

Ah. So Ari's been hanging out with a pack of sick-minded, joking Erasers for all his after-life. Great. Good to know, Voice. Thank you soooooo much.

You're very welcome, Maximum.

…Sarcasm is a foreign language to you, isn't it?

I speak many languages besides English, including Spanish, French, Italian, Arabic, Greek, Norwegian, Hungarian, Japanese, Chinese, German, Finnish, Swedish, Polish, Icelandic, Swahili, Russian, Belarusian, Ukrainian, and Azerbaijani to name a few. 'Sarcasm' is not in my programming.

Ooooo-kay then…

"Turn your face away from the garish light of day…"

"What daylight? You've sealed the place off so no speck of daylight has a snowball's chance in hell of getting in!" Ari pointed out.

"Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light…"

That's a little bit hard, seeing as there are ten million candles in here, the Voice noted.

"…and listen to the music of the night," he sang, in an alluring purr, lightly running his fingers down the side of my face. I wasn't sure if it was part of the play or not, but I sure wasn't going to stop him. It actually felt kind of nice.

But for Ari, it was pleasant in a different way. The words were the breaking point for him, and he had dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. He tried hanging on to the organ for support again, but he was guffawing so hard he lost his grip on it and dropped to the floor, laughing hysterically.

"M-Max…" he choked out. "You and…F-Fang…" He emitted a stream of giggles before raising his head and saying loudly, "He wants you to make the music of the night with him, Max! Literal meaning there! Have loads of fun and name your kid after me, alright!" He collapsed back onto the floor with laughter.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and firmly reminded myself that he was dead and any attempts to beat the living crap out of him now would be futile.

"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams…" Fang sang, his voice rising.

I don't think that's such a good thing to encourage her about, Fang. I've been a firsthand witness to her 'darkest dreams.'

"Do they involve Fang? And her? In the dark? Getting nak–"

Arishutup! Yes, I thought that so fast it was one word. Don't tell him anything, Voice! We had an agreement about this!

Well, yes, we did…

"Oh, what's she gonna do to you?"

Good point, young Batchelder. I can answer you: Sometimes, yes. Actually her dreams very frequently consist of –

Voice, SHUT UP!

...Meep.

Yeah, that's what I thought.

"…purge your thoughts of the life you knew before," Fang continued to sing. "Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…"

I closed my eyes and let his beautiful voice wash over me, blocking out Ari's laughter and his joke – "That's not all that'll be going up, up, and away soon, Max! Fang's rocket ship is gonna take off in – "

Honestly, Ari, must you make a suggestive joke about everything?

"…and you'll live as you've never lived before."

Even if Ari had a joke for that one, he couldn't get it out through his hysterical laughter. I sighed.

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…"

"Are you sure it's the music doing that, Max?" Ari yipped.

"…Hear it, feel it secretly possess you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind – " I'm not even going to repeat Ari's joke on those lines – "In this darkness which you know you cannot fight. The darkness of the music of the night."

Fang smiled briefly, and his voice rose louder. "Let your mind start a journey through a strange new wor – AAAAAHH! Putain de merde!" he yelled suddenly in French, leaping at least six feet in the air in fright at the sudden explosion under his feet. "C'est quoi ce bordel!"

Someone – and you can probably guess who – had just blown a giant hole in the floor. Smoke rose from it, along with the scent of God knows what that had been used to make the bomb, and the voices of the bird-kids in the kitchen. And apparently they were very unappreciative of fine arts, from the booing and hissing I heard from Nudge and Gazzy, and some choice insults from Iggy that I was going to give him the lecture of a lifetime for later.

"Iggy! Gazzy!" I shrieked. "Why did you just blow this hole in Fang's – " A muffled snickering sound from behind caught my attention, and I half-sighed, half-groaned at Ari's immaturity; and then I would have resumed yelling at the others if Fang had not assumed the position.

"What the hell? How dare you disrespect my art!" he shouted down through the hole. He looked about ready to kill them all.

Gazzy's voice floated up through the hole. But where had the gangsta accent come from? "Nah, whatevah, man…Classic stuff ain't got shiz on hip-hop!"

"What?" I said, confused. He pronounced 'shiz' as 'shee-yiz.'

Fang had a much better response. "Oh, you think so? Well, I believe music is like candy – You've got to get rid of the rappers!"

"Oooooooooooh!" said an approving Ari.

Fang seemed all set to yell more, but then he stopped and looked confused, as though something completely different had suddenly appeared downstairs. I wasn't near the hole, so I couldn't see, but Fang could and it seemed as though he was totally perplexed as to what he was seeing.

"Gazzy?" he asked hesitantly. "What…are you wearing?"

The look on Fang's face made me almost scared to know what Gazzy and the others were doing.

Gazzy replied, "Hey, brotha, don't be hatin', man. Pink is for tough guys. It's pretty an' cool, yo, it's nice and cool."

"Um…cool?" said Fang as if unsure of the word's meaning. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, man, I get some nice breezes downstairs with this thing. It feels nice…"

"Okay, I can understand that…But Gazzy – " Suddenly, Fang's eyes bulged, and he choked. "G-Gazzy?"

"Wazzup, brotha?"

"Wh-Wh-Wh-What are those?" Fang asked, pointing at something, apparently Gazzy.

"Oh, these?" Gazzy said, a happier note in his voice. "Oh, these are my new north apricots! They's is awesome!"

"Awesome?" echoed Fang, blanching. "But…what…you…how…Gazzy? Why are you rubbing the – "

"Yo, Fang man, you really should get yourself a pair of these," Gazzy went on, not noticing Fang's discomfort. "They're so great…so round…so soft…so pink…so amazing…Yo, Max, y'all is lucky! You got these things all the time!"

"Gazzy?" I said, not understanding any of this.

"Gazzy, this is not possible, how did you manage to get – Whoa, Nudge! What did they do to you?"

"Huh? Fang?" I asked, really confused now. "Fang, what's going on?"

"You're all…yellow…and curvy…and stuff," Fang said, not hearing me. "What happened?"

"Oh! Are you white on the inside too, Nudge?" Gazzy asked excitedly. "Just like a – "

"Jackson!" Iggy's voice shouted. "Nudge! You're like a reverse Michael Jackson! Black on the outside, white on the inside!"

"Okay, that was terrible…" Ari said, running his hand over his face.

"Fang! Tell me now! What is going on down there?" I said sharply.

"Max, you'll never believe this, but – " Fang broke off. He looked like he saw something either truly frightening or truly amazing downstairs. His body froze, his mouth dropped open, and his eyes did this weird zoning-out thing. He stared at whatever had affected him so strongly, still and shocked, for a few moments, before striking a pose which included another dramatic cape-swish, and reaching out his hand through the hole.

"Christine!" he cried excitedly.

"WHAT!" Iggy squawked.

"Wh-What? Fang!" I said indignantly. I thought I was Christine!

"What the hell, Fang!" Iggy cried as Fang stared at him like he had stumbled upon heaven on earth. "Why would you think I'm…!" Iggy paused as thought realizing something. "Aw, crap," he said, with what sounded like a facepalm accompanying it.

"May I say you look beautiful in light, frilly pink, darling," Fang purred lovingly.

"What!" I yelped. "Fang, what is going on down there?"

"L-Listen, Fang!" Iggy tried to explain. "I'm not who you think I am, just because I'm wearing this – "

"Christine!" Fang cried again. "I must take you to my underground lair!"

"Does he mean this isn't the only lair he has?" Ari wondered.

"Fang!" I yelped. "What is going on down there?"

"What? Fang, I don't know what the hell's the matter with you, but I'm not going anywhere with you, buddy!" Iggy snapped.

"But Christine! I looooooooooove you!" Fang insisted in song.

"Listen, pal, I don't give a flying Jeb. I am not moving my high-heeled feet one inch from this spot!" Iggy declared defiantly.

High-heeled…Light frilly pink…Oh my God, I'm not at all sure I want to know.

"Oh, spirited! That's more than I hoped for," Fang said, then grinned evilly. "I suppose that means you'll be able to keep up with me then, hm, dear?"

As unintelligible spluttering came from my mouth and uproarious laughter came from Ari's, a flood of shocked swearing exploded from Iggy's.

"Fuck you!" he shrieked, and a ten-inch steak knife zipped through the air, narrowly missing Fang's face and lodging in between two candles mounted on the wall on the other side of the room.

"IGGY! NOT IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN!" I screeched.

Fang looked slightly surprised, but then smiled again. "Never mind that, my darling," he said, smirking and reaching upwards for something. "If you don't want to move…" He pulled a long rope from out of freaking nowhere and waved it at Iggy. "…Then I'll be happy to come down and move you myself!"

"Aaah! Goddamnit!" Iggy yelped. It sounded like he was trying to run, because I heard a couple clacks of high heels on tiled kitchen floor, and then the noise of bird-kid crashing hard into aforementioned floor signified his failure to do so. "Ow…Damn stupid long foofy dress…" he snarled under his breath as a smiling Fang told him some very explicit things about what he planned to do with Iggy in the dark.

Told you so, Max.

Damn you, Voice! Damn you to the deepest pits of hell!

I'm a Voice. I don't think that's possible.

Well…Whatever! And you've got it all wrong, Voice! Fang's doesn't want to…uh…He doesn't want Iggy, he wants Christine. And he just think's Iggy's his dream girl. Girl, Voice, key word there. I don't why you continue to insist that Fang must be gay. Unless…I thought, a new idea coming to me. Can a VOICE be gay? And could a Voice possibly have…A gay crush on Fang?

WHAT! It was the first time I'd heard the Voice shriek. I…Why would you…I don't…I'm not…I'm a Voice! You want to know the truth! I don't know! I've never known! I don't even know if I'm male or female! Hell, I don't even know if I'm a hermaphrodite! How could I know about my sexual orientation? I'm just a disembodied Voice inside your head! I'm NOT gay and I do NOT want Fang to stroke and nip me!

…Denial. You're in denial. That's the first sign.

OF WHAT?

You're a smart Voice, I'm sure you can figure it out yourself. Didn't you once tell me the reason you gave me advice was because you were smarter than me?

Well, that was spur of the moment! I was trying to make you stop beating your face with a pillow to get me out of your head.

So you didn't mean it?

No, I didn't really…Okay, that's a lie. I did mean it. And now I'm urged by Fang's description of how he will caress Iggy's body to give you more advice. Do you want to get Fang away from Iggy?

Heck yes! No pretty little fictional character is taking my Fang away from me.

Er…let me rephrase that. Do you want to save Iggy from Fang's loving?

Yes! We can't have the only one of us that can actually cook so mentally traumatized he can't make us food!

Okay! Just mention the word 'fop' to him.

What?

Trust me, if Fang is a good phangirl, he'll be completely distracted from Iggy. Of course then he might be totally consumed by burning jealousy and frenzied murderous rage, but it's worth a shot…

Um…all right then.

"Uh, Fang?" I tried.

"Hm?" he said, turning his head.

"Uh…does the word 'fop' have any meaning to you?"

It definitely did. Fang's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, as though he had forgotten the most important thing he had to do, and then suddenly remembered it. I heard the quick clicking of high heels from downstairs and knew Iggy had taken advantage of Fang's distraction and made his escape.

Fang's startled expression only lasted for a moment, though, before it contorted into a look of pure, enraged hatred. "Damn fop trying to steal my girlfriend!" he yelled. "I'll kill him!"

Voice, contact the Feds and get Patrick Wilson a large guard force.

Oh, he's not talking about Raoul, Max. Just watch.

Fang spread his wings and leapt ten feet into the air. As he reached the ceiling, I was nearly blinded by a sudden, brilliant show of light. When the shining whiteness left my eyes, I nearly died of shock.

"FANG!" I screamed. "WHERE DID THAT GIGANTIC CHANDELIER COME FROM?"

Fang paused a moment and his eyes moved shiftily from side to side. "Nnnnnnnnnowhere," he said unconvincingly. And then Gazzy's voice came up through the hole. "Max! Max! You gotta hear what this French guy's saying on the news! This big opera place in Paris had their chandelier stolen!"

I turned back to Fang, glaring. "Fang…" I growled menacingly. "What did you do?"

"Eh heh heh heh…" He managed to smile sheepishly. "Well, doesn't it look cool in my room?" he asked when the smile failed to placate me.

"Well…" I dragged out the word, not wanting to admit that yes, it looked really cool in his room. "Okay, yeah, it does, but – Fang! What are you doing?"

Fang had flown up to the thing that held the chandelier to his ceiling (I'm not sure what you'd call it, or even if it had a name) and started to dislodge the chandelier. With his bare hands. How was that possible?

"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted.

"Taking the chandelier to California!" Fang replied, an anticipatory smirk crossing his face.

"Why?"

"So I can kill the fop with it!"

"What?"

"Yes! The fop! Dylan de Chagny! I must kill the Vicomte!" Fang shrieked, yanking harder on the chandelier.

"Wha – You think Dylan is…What?"

It's quite simple, Max, the Voice explained. Fang thinks he's become the Phantom of the Opera, and he loves you. So to his mind, you are Christine. And Dylan, who loves you as well, is Raoul, his rival for your affections. And so, like in the play, he's going to try to kill Dylan. Unless you can keep him from doing so, Dylan will probably die. So I think you should fly up to Fang, beg him not to, and then when he doesn't listen, you should –

Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said I was going to help Dylan?

What? But if you don't do something, Fang will make a serious attempt to murder Dylan! And knowing Fang, Dylan is probably going to die, and he will die a slow, painful, violent, agonizing death!

Good for Fang. Dylan was annoying anyway…I don't think he understood that the fact that he's pretty won't automatically make me Bella-Swan over him. And he wouldn't stop modeling his butt. And he's an idiot.

But Fang's going to –

Look, Voice, Fang has a giant chandelier from Paris in his bedroom, weird crap is happening downstairs, and Mom is going to kill us when she gets home and finds all these huge holes in the house. Do you really think I care about Dylan right now?

"Fang!" I yelled. "Do you really need a chandelier to kill Dylan? I think Home Depot is having a sale on power tools, so we could – Fang!"

Fang had dislodged the chandelier completely, flown upwards, and pulled the chandelier through the roof.

"Au revoir, mon amour!" he called down to me. "Always remember: I choose you, Charizard!" Then he let out the best dark laugh I'd ever heard as he flew off, lugging the chandelier along with him.

Hm, the Voice mused. The Michael Crawford laugh. Very good.

I was so shocked I stared incredulously at the gaping hole in the ceiling the chandelier had gone through even after he was out of sight.

HOW? I mentally screeched.

And why did he call me Charizard?

Before I could start figuring any of this insanity out, Ari came over to me and started talking again. I didn't even get to enjoy the time of silence that he hadn't been talking, I internally lamented.

"Well, then," he said, looking up at the huge hole. "I've got to hand it to you, Maxie, you sure know how to pick the crazy boyfriends. First Sam, now Fang."

"Huh?" I said, jerked out of my shock by the mention of Sam by Ari. "What was wrong with Sam? He wasn't an Eraser, was he?"

"No. He was nowhere near cool enough to be one of us," Ari said with a smirk. "But he did dress up as Barney for little kids' birthday parties."

"So he was secretly a pedophile?"

"What? No, I didn't say that."

"But you implied it."

"What? How'd I do that?"

"You mentioned Barney."

"Oh. Well, he…he wasn't," Ari said awkwardly. Then he brightened up suddenly. I wondered what had cheered him up when he grinned diabolically, and then I didn't want to know at all.

"By the way, Max," he said, stepping towards me as I backed away slowly, afraid of what he was so happy about. "I never did get to finish that little song of mine back there."

Oh my freaking God, no…

"So I think we're gonna pick up where we left off! Voice dude! Music!"

Once again, the hip-hop beat boomed in my head. "No!" I yelled, desperate to keep the musical torment from beginning again.

"Hell yes!" Ari shouted, and then began his suggestive dance again. That was bad enough, but once he and the Voice began to sing, the agony was equal to having my wings torn off by were-bears with chainsaws while being thrown into an erupting volcano.

Well, probably not quite that much, but you get the idea.

Whatcha gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?

"I'mma get, get, get, get you drunk, get you love-drunk off my humps!"

I took one more horror-struck step back, then spun around and tore out of the room, screaming at the top of my lungs. I hate that song so much!

I sprinted down the hall as fast as I could, but it was like being trapped in the worst horror movie ever. No matter how fast I was, I couldn't escape from Ari or the Voice.

I met a girl down at the disco, she said hey, hey, hey, yo, let's go. I can be ya baby, you could be my honey, let's spend time, not money. And mix your milk with my cocoa puff, milky, milky cocoa mix – Wait a minute, what the hell? What is this? What am I singing?

"Just quit complaining and sing your lines, Voice dude!" Ari shouted, keeping up his running-dance routine. "If I have to sing this stuff, so do you!"

But you don't even have to! It's your choice to –

Ari ignored the Voice and kept singing. "They say I'm really sexy, the boys they wanna sex me, they always standin' next to me, always dancin' next to me, tryin' to feel my hump, hump – "

Okay, WTH, Ari?

I bolted for the stairs, hoping insanely that whatever craziness was happening downstairs would distract Ari from his song of hell, but a sound somewhere between a boom and a crack made me stop short, and if Ari hadn't been a ghost, he would have crashed into me, but thankfully, he was transparent.

My head snapped around at the sound of two or three more boom-cracks, and I realized two things.

One, the noise sounded suspiciously like gunfire.

Two, the noise was coming from Angel's room.

"Angel?" I whispered, completely confused.

Ari seemed to have forgotten his song and was equally puzzled. "That weird little bird-kid? The one with…the bear?" He shuddered, as if remembering something unpleasant.

"Huh?" I said, turning to him. "Her bear? What's the matter with Celeste?"

"I swear to God that bear is possessed by a demonic force," Ari declared. "It's like in The Exorcist! The freaking teddy bear is Satan!"

"What? You're kidding," I said.

"No! I'm dead freaking serious!" Ari cried. "You weren't the one in charge of that bear back in New York City! You don't know what it is!"

"Sorry, Ari, I just can't believe that."

"Oh, really? Well, Max, I'll give you proof. Have you been wondering why Angel's been gradually becoming more devious and freaky?"

I paused, seeing his point. Angel's behavior had been growing stranger and more out of character ever since she got that bear…

The sound of three more boom-cracks from Angel's room made up my mind. "I'm gonna go see what's up."

I took off down to the end of the hall for Angel's room. It was time to figure out what was up with our little blond mind reader.

~0~

Fang: Yes! I look cool! And…kind of idiotic at the same time. Kaen, how did you pull off making me look cool and idiotic at the same time?

Kaen: Magic, my dear Fangles. Wow. That took longer to write than I expected. But still, it's awesome. Okay, Fang's singing voice was obviously Michael Crawford, but Max is not exactly Sarah Brightman. Max was Max. I was listening to the original cast version on YouTube when I wrote this, so it's what Max and Fang are singing, and I suggest listening to it while you read for a better experience (Just ask MangaLuv). But since FF has issues with links of any kind, I'll just tell you what to type in to get to the video.

Phantom of the Opera – Type in 'Act 1 Scene 4 ~ The Phantom of the Opera' and select the video by BelovedCaptain.

Music of the Night – Type in 'Act 1 Scene 5 ~ Music of the Night' and again, select the video by BelovedCaptain.

Fang: The only problem with Kaen listening to Phantom music the whole time she was writing is that the songs get stuck in her head.

Kaen: Gah! Yes! Especially this one… *singing* MASQUERAAAAAAAAADE! THIS SONG WON'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD! DAMN IT ALL! NOT EVEN LINKIN PARK CAN HELP ME NOW!

Fang: *singing* Do do do do do do…

Kaen: *singing* MASQUERAAAAAAADE! WHY IS THIS MUSIC SO DAMN CATCHY? WHAT THE HECK? THE ADDICTIVENESS IS KILLING ME!

Fang: *singing* Ha ha ha ha ha ha…

Kaen: *singing* MASQUERAAAAAAAADE! I WOULD APPRECIATE REVIEWS! COME ON, I SANG! AND IT MIGHT EVEN MAKE FANG SMILE!

Fang: *singing* Don't bet on it, guys…

Kaen: *singing* MASQUERAAAAAAAADE! FANG, STOP BEING SUCH A BUZZKILL! THANK YOU, READERS! PLEASE R&R MY OTHER STORIES TOO!

Fang: *singing* Especially her Phantom one…

Kaen: MASQUERAAAAAAADE – Oh, screw it, I can't sing anymore. Whew. Well, unlike Max, at least I'm not going to suffer for my choice of song.

Erik (That's the Phantom's real name, for those who haven't read the book): *bursts in* KAEN!

Kaen: Oh, crap. I spoke too soon.

Fang: I think you might be in trouble, Kaen. *prepares to fly away*

Kaen: Don't you go anywhere, Fang! Er…hi, Erik.

Erik: Why the hell did you write that chapter? It's causing serious problems for me!

Kaen: What? Oh, come on, I didn't make you look that stupid?

Erik: No, no, you wrote my crazy side fine! Actually, I would have dropped the chandelier on the fop's head myself if I'd been able to! In the play, I was actually hoping it would hit him when he ran out to save Christine…Come to think of it, I never understood why she just stood there and stared at it…I mean, it's a giant chandelier about to crash down on your head, any sensible person would have run for their lives, not just stood there staring at it like an idiot…

Kaen: Well, if you're not offended, Erik, what's your problem?

Erik: You shouldn't have written a Phantom personality onto a dark-haired, dark-eyed, dark-mannered teenage boy.

Kaen: Why not? He's actually a bit like you and Luc-kun.

Erik: Because Fang has wings. Because, as you said, a certain one of your OCs has a similar personality and appearance. Because now Luc thinks he can fly!

Kaen: Oh, God. It's not that bad, is it, Erik?

Erik: See for yourself. *points at Luc*

Luc: *crazily flapping his arms and jumping in the air* Fly! Fly! I gotta fly! Fly fly fly fly fly!

Kaen: Oh. I see what you mean…That weird glint in his eye doesn't look like a good sign…

Erik: *facepalms* He's been like this all week! I'm going crazy!

Luc: *still flapping* Fly fly fly! I'm gonna fly! Sooner or later! Maybe I don't have wings, but I gotta fly! Fly fly fly fly fly fly fly fly fly!

Erik: LUC! For the thousandth time, we are not part bird and we cannot fly!

Luc: *stops flapping* But we're angels, Erik! Aren't angels supposed to fly? Fly fly fly fly fly…

Erik: No, Luc, that's just a metaphor – literary device – fantasy – delusion – I don't know what it is, but we are not literal angels and WE CAN'T FLY!

Luc: *ignoring Erik completely, resumes flapping* Fly fly fly fly fly!

Erik: *facepalms* Gaaaaaaaah…

Kaen: Yeah…I could see where you'd be having a problem with this.

Erik: It's all your fault.

Kaen: I know, I know, I'll fix it. Shut up and let me think…Uh…Maybe…No…Sorry, Erik-sama, this could take a while…

Erik: *headdesk* Gaaaaaah.

Fang: Here, I've got an idea. *goes up to Luc and spreads his wings*

Luc: *shock knocks him off his feet* ZOMGWINGZ!

Fang: Yeah, wings. So, I hear you want to fly.

Luc: Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah! Fly fly fly fly fly fly!

Fang: Okay, then, hop on, kid. *turns and gestures for Luc to get on his back*

Luc: Oh, hell yeah! All right! I'm gonna FLY! *leaps on Fang's back*

Fang: *starts to fly away*

Erik: *sigh of relief* Good…Maybe this will cure him, right, Kaen?

Kaen: Yeah, I guess so…Hey, wait a minute! Fang! Luc! *runs after them* Riding on Fang-kun's back is my job! I must defend my position!

Erik: Kaen! What the hell? *sighs deeply* Just when I think it's all okay…

Kaen: NEODÄMMERUNG! *leaps for Fang and grabs his legs*

Fang: Wha – Hey! Kaen! Oh, for God's sake… *continues to fly away while making a half-hearted effort to shake Kaen off him*

Erik: *stares up at them as they fly out of sight* …Why me? Why?

MangaLuv: *comes out of nowhere and puts a hand on Erik's shoulder* I know, buddy. I know.

Erik: Does she really ride on Fang's back?

MangaLuv: In my story she does. I guess she thought that made it her territory.

Erik: All right, since Kaen's not around to do it, maybe we should just end this ridiculously long A/N right now before something else insane happens.

MangaLuv: Agreed. Later, everybody!

Erik: Au revoir, mes amis.

~0~