Hey girl! I just went back to your show recently, and had a surprisingly great time. And you look great, honey – that is some fantastic hair! But I just wanted to write to you and check in, because I found myself worrying a little bit about you.
Okay, so first of all, you do know that that’s not really an angel of music, right? I mean, I know your dad said that whole thing, and then magically there’s this person who teaches you how to sing in his magical catacombs and all, and I totally understand why you would think that. But let’s be honest, honey, that is a guy who voluntarily wears a cape and a mask and lives in the basement. I’m not even going to ask about what qualifications he initially presented that made you think he would be a good vocal coach for you, because this is not a place of judgement, but I think you should really consider being a little less trusting in the future. And I know that a guy having a life-sized sex doll version of you dressed in a wedding dress is really flattering, sort of, but I think that would be considered a big red flag. I mean, look, I have a lot of trouble with dating too, but sometimes it helps me to think about whether I would like to see something on, say, an Okcupid profile. Like, if you saw a listing for a guy that included a cape, a mask, the whole basement thing, a nickname that includes ‘the’ and the inclusion of a sex-doll version of you, would you be sending him a message? No, you would not. Even if he did say that he was sent by your dead father. Which, let’s be honest, is really really creepy. Do you really think your dad is up in heaven hoping that you hook up with your damaged music teacher?
Oh, that’s another thing. What exactly was going through your head when you were going into your dad’s tomb to meet up with the Phantom? So you were thinking that your dad sent this guy, but also maybe that he was your dad and summoning you? In a sexual way? Look, honey, I don’t really want to know, but all I’m going to say is, therapy.
And look, Raoul seems great, really. Handsome and rich, what could be better? I’m not really sure why he calls you Lotte when your name is Christine, but hey, that’s between you two. But don’t you think it’s maybe not such a great idea to jump right on into a relationship with a controlling guy when you’re clearly already working through some stuff with another guy who loves controlling you? I mean, Raoul doesn’t even listen to you when he’s all “come to dinner, Lotte” and you’re like “I can’t, there’s a guy in my mirror who tells me what to do and he’ll be mad” and he’s like “ha ha ha, whatever, I’ll be back in a jiff to take you to dinner.” And then later he pushes you back onstage to be with the phantom in his creepy sex duet! That is not a supportive partner, Christine! And look, I know that you guys were happy at the end to have escaped the Phantom’s evil lair, but did you guys have to go off singing your love duet? Couldn’t you have waited until you, say, got upstairs? That was a little insensitive, Christine. I mean, I know he’s a creepy obsessive basement-dwelling murderer, but he’s got feelings too.
But all this stuff is really secondary. What I’m really wondering, Christine, is what YOU want. It’s a heady time – you’re so talented and beautiful and special, and I’m so glad it’s all working out for you with the whole opera star thing. But is that even what you want? I mean, you don’t seem to know which man you want, or whether you want either. You don’t even want to sing initially – Mrs. Danvers and the Degas girl have to push you to do it. The only thing you seem to want in the whole show is to have your father back (which, let’s be honest, isn’t going to happen unless there is some zombie sequel, and please god I hope there isn’t a zombie sequel), and to have someone who can take you away from all this. But there is someone who can take you away from all this, Christine – you. You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to. In fact, I think maybe you shouldn’t. I think maybe you should just leave all this opera stuff behind, dump those two losers, and go find out who Christine is for a while on a beach in Hawaii or backpacking across Europe or something. Just, you know, maybe not in Coney Island, mmkay?
Your Friend Anika