And listen to the music of the night

i haven’t been around for a while.

i’m sorry about that.

i’m still not going to be around.

but if any of you ever want to talk.

I thought that I knew people through a hobby I used to love, and I thought that those people really cared about me. But I’ve clearly been replaced without so much as a passing remark.

I’ve fallen out of love with the hobby of writing.

I know I’ve done this before, and I’ve returned before, but I’ve never really returned to how happy writing Connie made me in 2013. So I’m done.

I might come back, but my activity has gotten more minute every time I do so who knows if the next time I return will be different.

I don’t expect to retain any friendships that I made during the times I spent active. But that’s fine, you can forget about me. I don’t mind.

He’d burst into Connie’s dressing room, minutes after curtain and final bows - she’d still been attempting to remove the chestnut wig from her head. His confession stunned her, crimson painted lips forming a nice round ‘O’.

“Tom…?” The dizzying feeling she’d never failed to receive from nightly bows gave way to another dizzying feeling, blood rushing to her cheeks. “A-are you playing with me right now?”

Pulling her robe tighter against herself - not that she cared about propriety, being in theater - Connie excused her poor dressing assistant who’d been helping with the wig.

"Please, please don’t tell me this is a joke, Tom. 'Cause I feel the same.”

The corners of her mouth couldn’t create a wider smile. Placing a chaste kiss on his lips - because oh how she could do that now - Connie’s eyes were drawn to the Phantom prosthetics still adorning his face.

He’d burst into Connie’s dressing room, minutes after curtain and final bows - she’d still been attempting to remove the chestnut wig from her head. His confession stunned her, crimson painted lips forming a nice round ‘O’.

“Tom…?” The dizzying feeling she’d never failed to receive from nightly bows gave way to another dizzying feeling, blood rushing to her cheeks. “A-are you playing with me right now?”

Pulling her robe tighter against herself - not that she cared about propriety, being in theater - Connie excused her poor dressing assistant who’d been helping with the wig.

"Please, please don’t tell me this is a joke, Tom. 'Cause I feel the same.”

"I love you too" Connie murmured, pulling back from the hug, she kissed him square on the mouth, and for any passerby watching: they could see that it was definitely not a stage kiss.

He’d burst into Connie’s dressing room, minutes after curtain and final bows - she’d still been attempting to remove the chestnut wig from her head. His confession stunned her, crimson painted lips forming a nice round ‘O’.

“Tom…?” The dizzying feeling she’d never failed to receive from nightly bows gave way to another dizzying feeling, blood rushing to her cheeks. “A-are you playing with me right now?”

Pulling her robe tighter against herself - not that she cared about propriety, being in theater - Connie excused her poor dressing assistant who’d been helping with the wig.

"Please, please don’t tell me this is a joke, Tom. 'Cause I feel the same.”

He’d captured the entire room - a room filled with 1,645 empty seats - going completely on his own inhibition. It was inspiring, really. Connie hadn’t seen such ferocity and conviction in an audition since… since, well if she do say so herself, her own audition.

She felt for the boy - for in the lull after his audition he’d been miraculously reduced to a boy post-confidence - and yet was admittedly unsurprised when he’d been offered the role on the spot.

"Bravo, Tom." Connie smiled softly, mind immediately wandering to the emotional choices she’d have to re-work onstage to fit Tom’s incredible stage presence. Excited wasn’t even cutting it. He’d come into the audition room and Connie hadn’t thought much of him, except that he looked to rather suit Raoul more than the Phantom. But oh, how wrong she was to expect mediocrity.

"Mr. Henderson, Ms. Oswin, why don’t we take a few hours recess from this. You’re both excused - we’ve got to go through the rest of the applicants but we’re certain we’ve got our Phantom." Dan grinned greedily, smelling the box office sale increase that would inevitably come when Tom took the stage.

Connie began to gather her things when Dan stopped her again, hand on her shoulder. “Connie, take him to coffee or something, get to know the guy. Bring him to the show tonight.”

Tom’s initial confidence was almost infectious, Connie discovered - mere seconds after his first words to her - that she was enjoying his “Anything You Can Do” attitude. While the amusement from his personal display of confidence had already begun to overrule Connie’s sour mood, his apparent cowardice after seeing Dan overruled it even more. She couldn’t hold a giggle back at the look on poor Tom’s face.

"Considering it sounds like you were practically made to be the Phantom, and considering the fact that I’ve seen your résumé, I don’t think Dan will be any worry." She playfully nudged his shoulder, trying to bring back any comfort he’d lost at the sight of the producer. "I think that your real worry will be all those other Phantoms who want your spot."

One by once, face by face a sort of mass grin grew slowly spread as they realized what Tom was doing. He was turning the audition entirely on its head and writing his own, for lack of a better term. Then suddenly, there was at stage left, moving onto the stage with sublimely understated but unmistakable menace. "Why so silent, good messieurs? Did you think that I had left you for good?"

All this went on for a bit more and then.. there was silence. Not a sound was made as papers fell from Dan's suddenly numbed hand to the floor, leaving him staring and incredulous looking. All the crazy confidence he'd held inside during it all vanished at once and with a sigh and nod, he clambered down the stage steps and started up the aisle.

He made it halfway up the aisle to a sympathetic looking Connie. She gave him a pat on the arm and started to leave then a stentorian grunt sounded from behind them.

"And just where the hell do you think you're going? Get your bony backside to costumes for fitting. Welcome about, Monsieur L'Phantom."

Having already recited lines to countless Raoul and Phantom wannabes, Connie was astronomically excited to go home to her cozy apartment for a quick nap before the performance that night. It wasn’t that the prospective men were boring or simply unable to carry the role, Connie’s chipper emotion had soured considerably after an auditionee who turned particularly handsy. So when a fresh face walked through the door, she was reluctant to give him the time of day.

However, Connie willingly adorned herself with the Tony-nominated smile and set about rearranging her script for a Phantom audition. She had no idea of the impossible dreams that this man had, a dream she too shared mere months ago. Connie was unaware of the revelation he'd had reading the paper, and especially of the thought running through his mind.

"Connie, this is Mr. Tom Henderson, auditioning for the Phantom. We’ll be with you when you’re ready."

He gave her what his Dad used would call his Pirate Grin. "Besides, I'm two for one.  I get that role and I can cook up the best damn deli style food for the cast parties you've seen outside of Schwartzmann's."

"Then a guy turned toward us could only be Dan. He took one look at me and every ounce of every of swagger I had coming into that audition went right out the window and caught the first bus out of town. Swear to God, I felt like my testicles shot straight up into my throat." - Excerpt