Eight year old Chritine Daae peeked through the curtain. She wasn't supposed to be here, the youngest ballet girls were expected to come for lessons, rehearse if they had a part, and then go home. Christine and a few of the other girls had already danced for their part in Carmen, but Christine had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a few weeks now.
From her first day, Madame Giry had told the girls to stay away from any equipment and above all to not go near or touch the various levers that lay behind the Populaire's stage. Of course, this had been all the invitation Christine needed to become absolutely amoured with the mysteries behind the levers. She had already figured out what most of them did just by watching – boring things like raise and lower scenery and change the lights but there was one that no one had pulled yet. To the right of and directly facing the stage, there was one large lever which stood hinged to the floor. No one had ever so much as touched it during Christine's month here at the Opera Populaire and at the rate things were going, it looked like no one ever would. So Christine needed to find out for herself what its purpose was.
Today was that day. It was in the middle of Act I of Carmen and everyone was occupied by their own tasks and jobs or watching as Carlotta did what she did best and bellow on stage. No one was anywhere near the lever.
Quickly Christine ran to and pulled the lever with all her might. It was stuck tight and required all of Christine's weight pulling against it but finally it turned and fell to the other side with a muffled thud.
For a moment, nothing happened and Christine was disappointed that it was just device to control the ropes.
But then, a trap door, the existence of which Christine had been entirely ignorant, swung open and La Carlotta made an amusing addition to the immortal line of the Habanera.
L'amour est enfant de Bohême,
Il n'a jamais jamais conn – AHHHHHH!
Carlotta fell though the trap door with a scream and with a bang fell on the props and scenery that was stored under a stage entirely unprepared for someone to fall though. Almost immediately, shouting could be heard and from the looks on the faces of Carlotta's friends, it wasn't the best use of the Spanish language. Christine released the lever as if electricity coursed through it and ran to the other corner of the room. She had to do something quickly before she was rightly suspected. An idea struck Christine.
"The Opera Ghost!" she shrieked. "It was the Opera Ghost!"
Soon all the cast took up her cry.
Far up in the wings, laughter could be heard. Of course the source was far enough away that it could not be heard at the level of the stage, especially over the new din of shouting and screaming, but laughter existed nevertheless. Oh how Erik liked the new addition of the young Daae to the Populaire. It was always amusing to watch her antics. It greatly took away from the mundane, repeated days the Populaire presented. She reminded Erik of himself as a boy, perhaps if she proved herself worthy, he would help her career in the Opera Populaire. Perhaps he should keep a closer eye on her; maybe the ghost should pay her a friendly visit. He had heard that she frequently visited the chapel below the Opera Populaire…
If you liked, maybe check out the fic this originates from, The Unseen Genius?