Chapter 1
I awoke early in the morning, eager to get to the opera house before anyone else did. I jumped out of bed, and hastily threw on a pair of yoga pants and a tank-top, quickly deciding that I would get ready at the theater when everyone else started arriving. I hastily pulled my long, curly, brown hair into a pony-tail as I grabbed my dance bag and locked the door behind me.
I had chosen this apartment after I got the job as one of the chorus/dancing girls at the London Opera House because of its close proximity to the theatre. It was a mere fifteen minute walk to the back door of the Opera Populaire.
I approached and fumbled with my key I had been given to get the door unlocked. I hastily entered and immediately ran for the stage.
It was a silly morning ritual I knew, but I had always been a dreamer, so the time I spent singing on stage every morning meant a lot to me. Ever since I had been hired at the prestigious opera house, I had dreamed of becoming the lead soprano… the Prima Donna. This why I dragged herself here every morning to simply sing on stage as I longed to do.
I gazed out into the empty opera house and then closed my eyes, imaging the audience.
"Think of me, think of me fondly when we say goodbye."
I sang out with as much passion as I could muster; my very soul pouring into the song. I sang for me, I sang for the sorrow I felt, but most of all I sang for my father as I always did.
"Remember me, every so often, promise me you'll try.
On that day, that not so distant day
When you are far away and free
If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me."
I danced about the stage, letting the music carry me away as it always seemed to do. When I finished the song on the last dramatic high note I bowed to my imaginary audience, envisioning what it would be like to have that many people clapping for you.
"Oh dad," I whispered, falling to my knees on the empty stage "If only you were here."
"Brava, brava, bravissimo…" A disembodied voice echoed throughout the theatre.
"What the Hell?!" I exclaimed, breaking out of my revelry and jumping to my feet. "Who's there?!"
"I am the angel of music," The voice answered cryptically.
"Yeah right," I scoffed. "Meg? Is that you? Ha ha, very funny…" I trailed off when I heard the voice speak again.
"Would you like some advice on how to make your song really take wing? You have much potential my dear…"
"Okay," I sighed, with a wave of my hand. "I'll play along… What's wrong with my singing?"
"There is nothing wrong with your singing," The voice began, sounding much more human. "You have one of the most soulful voices I have ever heard. It's beautiful."
"Oh, well thanks…" I mumbled and blushed at the compliment.
"It's the technical issues that you need to work on." The voice said sharply, losing the melodic tone and, although, it still had a melodic quality to it. "You don't sing out enough, when you sing, try focussing on making your sound hit the back end of the theatre. There's no point in having a beautiful voice if only the first fifteen rows can hear you."
"And what makes you an expert on this?" I said, slightly sarcastic, but yet honestly curious. Something had me intrigued about this voice.
"I am the angel of music," He stated simply. "Now sing."
"Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade
They have their seasons, so do we
But please promise me that sometimes
You will think of me"
I focussed all my thoughts towards sending my voice to the back of the large theatre, for some
reason eager to please this mysterious angel.
"Very good," the voice stated, surprise evident in his voice.
"You didn't expect me to be?" I asked honestly, a little hurt at his lack of faith in my voice… I shook my head quickly to expel that feeling. This was literally some random voice in the theatre, so I shouldn't care what it thought of me.
"You are a quick learner," He stated, " If you are willing, I would like to teach you how to use your voice properly. Christine Daae, would you like to become my student?"
"Ummm," I said in shock, rendered speechless by the sudden question.
"Every evening after your rehearsals you would come here, and I would teach you everything you need to know to become the great Prima Donna you desire… That is what you want isn't it?" He questioned sharply at the end.
"Yes," I whispered, then spoke louder. "Who are you?"
"There are a few conditions though," He continued as though he hadn't even heard her. "You must completely dedicate yourself to music, even if it means giving up some of your social life or other petty things. You will show me respect, and be willing to try things with your voice you never would have dreamed of. I will truly be your angel of music."
"Christine," He spoke softly and tenderly, a new emotion showing. "Let me make your song take wing."
"First off," I spoke quietly, moved by the passion in his voice. "I don't have money to pay you for voice lessons. Secondly, I'm a little unsure of why you would just show up and ask to give me music lessons when I haven't seen you in my life; and thirdly, who are you?"
"You ask too many questions," He said irritably, the tenderness disappearing abruptly. "But I shall answer them for you. First of all, money is not needed, I have all the money I need and require none from you. Second, as I said before, you have potential and I recognize a rising star when I see one. Third, I am, once again as I said before, your angel of music."
"Angel," I whispered, in awe. "May I ask you one thing before I give you your answer?"
"You may," He answered, "But I will not guarantee you an answer."
"You say you are an angel of music," I started, getting a little bit excited... If this were truly a trick by Meg or the other ballet girls, I would get them now. "If you are truly an angel of music, I would like to hear you sing."
"You want to hear me sing?" He asked, sounding mildly shocked.
"Yes," I smiled triumphantly, this would catch whoever Meg had asked to prank me.
Without even answering me first, he began to sing.
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard in my life; more beautiful than the opera stars I listened to so much, more beautiful than my own voice, even more beautiful than my father's magical violin.
"Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor,
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender,
Turn your face away from the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light
And listen to the music of the night."
He only sang a few lines, but by the end I was completely and totally mesmerized. Those few lines managed to stir something deep within me that had been dormant since the death of my dad.
Those few lines were all it took to convince me that he truly was an angel of music. A single tear trailed down my cheek simply as a result of the pure passion of his music… If there was any chance he could make my voice sound like that, I wanted to be taught.
The more logical side of my mind argued with my much less rational heart. Even if angels did exist, they did not just go around teaching random girls how to sing… Plus I had never even seen him! For all I knew he could be some sexual predator looking for some innocent nineteen year-old to prey on…
But his voice…
If I had any common sense, I would leave right now and report this to the theatre managers… this was New York City for goodness sake! I should leave right now…
"Yes," The word escaped my lips before I even realized I had made up my mind.
"Yes," I repeated, stronger this time. "I will be your student… I accept."
"Very good," He said, a barely detectable note of relief in his voice. Most people wouldn't have noticed it, but I'd always been good at reading people. "Meet me here at precisely 8:00 tonight, and not a minute after. The alarm system will be disarmed."
"Okay," I said nervously, "Ummm, angel? I have to go get ready for rehearsals, so I was wondering if I could go now?"
"Of course my dear," He chuckled darkly as she left the room. "This opera needs you more than you know."
I entered the small bathroom attached to the group dressing room for the chorus and ballet girls and splashed cold water on my face.
What was I doing?
I had told some strange male voice that I was taking voice lessons from him… it? I didn't even know what it was.
Your angel of music…
My voice whispered in the back of my mind and I collapsed into a heap into the chair. I remembered his spectacular voice, and I started to believe that maybe he could be an angel of music.
Well, I guess there was only one way to find out…
There was no way I was missing those voice lessons.
Rehearsals seemed to drag by because of my impending voice lessons. Despite what I kept trying to tell myself about how it was "no big deal," I was honestly completely beside myself with excitement.
For the first time since my father died I felt true hope stirring inside me. Maybe my father had really sent this angel of music down from Heaven to me!
My excitement must have been obvious, because my best friend and roommate, Meg Giry, stopped me as we both left the theatre.
"I'm assuming you're going somewhere tonight." She stated bluntly as we walked the three blocks to the apartment.
"Why do you say that?" I questioned, trying to fake nonchalance.
She looked at me quizzically. "Chris, I've known you for years… I can tell you're excited about something. So what is it?"
"It's a secret," I said tauntingly, trying to convince her it wasn't that serious.
"Is it a boy?!" She exclaimed as we walked up the stairs of our building. "I bet it's a boy!"
"No," I said quickly as we began to travel upwards. "I would tell you if it was a boy."
"Fine then, don't tell me." She said with a sniff, feigning hurt. "It's not like I'm your best friend or anything…"
"Meg…" I sighed, but she just began to laugh.
"Just kidding," She giggled as we entered our small apartment, plopping herself down on the worn couch. "What time do you need to be there?"
"Eight," I said, glancing at the clock. It was seven thirty… I had just enough time to freshen up and then head back to the theatre.
I walked quickly to my room, brushing my curly hair and pulling it into a neat pony tail. I touched up my make-up by habit, since I realized the angel probably wouldn't really care what I looked like.
I stood in my room for a moment, unsure what to bring. After a minute I settled on only the necessities, and grabbed my small purse which contained my wallet and cell phone. I guess I was ready to go.
I hurried past Meg out the door, but not quite quick enough.
"Chris?" She called into the hallway, and I stopped short.
"Yes Meg?" I sighed without turning around.
"Please don't bring any boys back to the apartment!" She mock scolded, and I began to walk. Unfortunately, Meg wouldn't be thwarted and just yelled louder. "And if you decide to go somewhere, make him pay for a nice hotel; and just remember… Safe sex!"
I blushed furiously as I practically ran down the stairs, still hearing Meg's loud laughter from down the hall.
I hurried to the theatre, nearly running with excitement. I arrived at exactly 7:59, waited a moment until my phone's clock said it was 8:00, and went inside.
I walked out on the vast stage, glancing around for a sign of my angel. All of a sudden a single spotlight turned on, showing a small music stand with sheet music placed delicately on it.
I eagerly picked it up, seeing probably the hardest song I had yet to ever try.
"Are you kidding?" I asked sarcastically, "There's no way I can sing this!"
"There will be no doubting yourself Christine," My angel spoke harshly, his voice reverberating from the ceiling.
"Do you even know what song this is?" I continued, "Memory has only ever been sung by famous, seasoned performers… How can I even begin to measure up?"
"Find a way to connect yourself to the song." The voice commanded, and went silent for a moment.
I stood there in thought for a moment, staring at the lyrics and music.
"Now sing," The voice commanded softly, and piano music began in the background.
"Midnight
Not a sound from the pavement
Has the moon lost her memory?
She is smiling alone
In the lamplight
The withered leaves collect at my feet
And the wind begins to moan" I sang, thinking to push my voice to the back of the theatre as he had advised earlier.
"Memory
All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again" I continued, and the piano abruptly stopped.
"Excellent Christine," He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I smiled as well, for some reason incredibly happy to have pleased this mysterious angel.
"Just a couple things to work on," He muttered, and began demandingly giving me instructions.
"Go from the second line of the chorus," He instructed, "You were flat. You can't let yourself fall too far on the lower portions."
I sang, falling too far again.
"No, no no!" He said in frustration. "Again!"
It took me four times to finally sing it correctly, he did little to praise me.
"About time," He grumbled, "Now your phrasing was off Christine; you can't take a breath until after 'I was beautiful then,' or else you destroy the melodic quality of the phrase."
"Seriously?" I began to protest, "I don't have the lung capacity to sing four lines without breathing!"
"Just try Christine!" He exclaimed, "I know these things can seem boring to your young mind, but I chose a particularly easy song so we could work on the technical issues in your voice."
"It's nothing to do with it being boring," I started arguing again, putting my hands on my hips. "It has something to do with the fact that I don't have the lung capacity to do it!"
"Sing!" He exclaimed, "From the beginning of the phrase."
"Memory, all alone in the moonlight," I began to sing, taking as deep a breath I could as I started. "I can smile at the old days," My voice faltered as I ran out of air, forcing me to take a breath.
"No!" He yelled, stopping me instantly , "Again!"
It went this way for nearly four hours, me working on my phrasing in various parts of the music. I had to sing until I could sing the phrase without a breath, and then do it again for good measure. If I faltered, or hit a wrong note, I started the entire thing over again and had to face the discouraging anger of my angel.
By the end of four and a half hours my throat felt like it was on fire, having sung like it never had before. I discreetly brought my hand to my neck, rubbing it tenderly as if that would make the pain ease.
"Christine," My angel said sharply, and I dropped my hand immediately. He started again in a voice so gentle I could hardly believe it was the same person talking.
"Does your throat hurt?" He questioned tenderly,
"Yes," I nodded, my voice cracking.
"Perhaps it is time we call it a night," He sighed and I collected the music from the stand.
"Can I take this?" I whispered, somehow knowing he would hear me.
"Of course my dear," I turned and walked towards the door, but he called out before I could leave. "Oh Christine?"
I turned around slowly, half expecting someone to be in front of me.
"You did well," He started, and I grinned. "Your passion rivals any voice I have ever heard, and your voice truly is beautiful… If you listen to my instructions, your voice will truly be glorious."
"Thank you," I whispered, and turned and walked into the night.
AN:
I am super excited about this story! I already have a lot written, but I couldn't wait to start posting it Only one note so I don't get any criticism on it… I have absolutely no experience with opera, so I made the artistic choice to use soprano songs from musicals since I have a lot more experience with them. I know Memory doesn't have the technical complexity operas do, but it has been sung by a lot of famous, well-seasoned performers (Plus it's written by Andrew Lloyd Webber) so I thought it would fit
Please review