Christine sat crying in a corner. It was her secret corner of the opera houses that she thought no one knew about. Today had been simply awful.
Carlotta a more advanced dancer the company's youngest singer had made fun of Christine. This was not uncommon but she had said something that made her burst into tears.
"This theater has turned into a joke. We used to be renowned before we became a charity," she sneered. One of her friends had asked what she had meant and Carlotta snapped, "Since little Christine is an orphan she should be in an orphanage not a theater. This place has become a charity, I told mother but she think this is the best place for me so here we are."
Christine who had been practicing ran from the room in tears. She was sure she heard a loud sniff of distaste from Carlotta as she ran out.
She sat huddled in a corner when a slight shadow crossed her. She looked up and so no one.
"Hello?" she asked shyly.
There was no response but in the corner of her eye she saw something move. Christine got up and walked toward the shadow only to find, when she got there it moved. The shadow she could see was one of a man's. It was tall and broad and did not appear to be solid like that of a woman's due to skirts.
"Monsieur?" she called out again.
To her surprise a voice responded, "Yes?"
The voice sounded short and like the person on the other end had somewhere to be. It was also male as she expected. It wasn't a particularly unique voice but the voice echoed and felt heavy.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"None of your concern," the voice echoed.
"Oh. Forgive me then Monsieur," she sighed. Christine had very few friends and she would have liked to know this shadow. She had Meg Giry, but Meg was up and coming dancer. Meg's mother was the dancer instructor and thus, kept Meg for long hours, giving her particular attention so the Meg could become successful. Christine even at that young age saw Meg less than she would have liked.
"Child. Why do you weep?" the voice asked suddenly as Christine began to walk back to her corner.
"Monsieur, a friend said something wicked. I am foolish to cry," Christine said looking up, hoping to see the voice's owner.
"Friend you say? Does not sound like a friend, though I wouldn't be the best person to ask," the voice said with a slight mirth.
"Monsieur, if you do not mind me asking, but I feel it is wrong for us to go on speaking without knowing each other's names," Christine asked shakily.
"I know your name and that is enough," the voice replied.
"You do?" she asked curiously and slightly worried.
"I sense, your unease. Let me ensure to you I mean you no ill harm. You see I live here and within this wall I hear much. And in this time I have heard you name. Madame Giry calls you Miss Daae, Meg calls you Chrissy and you call yourself Christine," he said.
"Uhhh," Christine said in shock.
"To be honest, never go by Chrissy. One should never let another name someone else, a name is a very sacred thing," the voice continued in thought.
"Oh I don't mind," Christine said.
"Did she ask you to call you that?" he asked.
"No sir," Christine said.
"Then you shan't let her call you that again. Not with a beautiful name like Christine!" he boomed.
"Yes monsieur," she said bowing her head.
"Leave now child. I believe a certain Meg is looking for you," he said, his voice fading.
"Monsieur, what might I call you? If I need to speak to you again I mean or if I should hear your name that I might know it is you?" she asked.
"Hmm, I believe for now Ange to be sufficient," he said.
"Ange?" she asked but he was gone.
