Futora - City of Song
Chapter One - A Silver Mask
"Thank you so much Mr. Levine!" Exclaimed Christine,
"I can't wait to try it on! I honestly can't thank you enough for letting me have it at a discount!"
Mr. Levine smiled over his spectacles at her. An elderly man, he had little hair left, but what was there was white. He had a friendly face, wrinkled and well worn. He was the owner of the Antique Jewelry shop that was on the road that led to Christine's school.
"I've seen you staring at that necklace for the past two months! It's the least I can do, especially for a friend," He said. He finished wrapping a black box, and handed it to Christine. "All yours," He said with a smile.
"Thanks again, Mr. Levine! Bye!" Christine called, nursing the box.
"Goodbye dear," Mr. Levine replied, turning back to his work-shop. Christine left his shop and half ran home. Christine was an average teenager, in the sixth form and a very well known girl. Her shoulder length chocolate brown curls bounced about her shoulders as she ran, her deep brown eyes glittered with excitement that rushed through her.
She clattered into her house, and shouted,
"Louisa, I'm home!" Before dashing up the stairs to her bedroom. She dumped her school stuff and took out the box that contained her new necklace. She opened the box and carefully pulled out the necklace. It was a delicate silver chain, with tiny diamante drops hanging from it. And, in the center, was a mask made from silver, studded with diamantes. It was beautiful. Christine went to her mirror and put it around her neck. It was so beautiful. She felt like a Princess!
Christine imagined being in a fine ball gown, with her long dark hair in a graceful knot, also studded with diamantes, and this hanging from her neck to complete the look. She sighed happily. Christine could only stare at her refection. She sat back on her bed and took off the necklace. Louisa came in at that moment, and sat beside Christine. Louisa was Christine's aunt, quite small in size and with wiry blonde hair. She was the sister of Christine's mother, and had the same colour eyes and shaped face.
"Bought it then, I see," She said eyeing the necklace still in Christine's hand. "It is lovely though, and it suits you." Louisa commented. Christine nodded.
"Thank you," She managed to say. Louisa knew not to push for conversation.
"Tea will be ready in a while, ok?" She asked Christine. Christine nodded,
"Ok." Louisa stood and left her.
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The ballet girls were all lined up, and the Chorus was ready to begin. In fact, everyone was ready to start rehearsing. But not La Carlotta. She was having...well...a fit pretty much.
"NON! I cannotta sing, I will notta sing! Not for all Paris!" She shrieked. Carlotta touched her hair dramatically. "Zat is ze second time zis has 'appened zis year!"
"But, Signora! Please understand, we can not help this..." gabbled one of the two managers, Monsieur Andre. He was a rather short individual, and he always had a nervous look about him. His graying hair covered most of his head, but his face was deeply lined with the tell tale lines of his own business. He was growing ever more exasperated.
"Bah!" Huffed Carlotta and she turned on her heel and shouted for her entourage to follow. With that, she swept out of the Opera House. The other manager, Monsieur Firmin turned to a stressed looking conductor.
"Monsieur Reyer, is there an understudy for this role?"
"UNDERSTUDY!" The conductor cried, "Understudy? There is no Understudy for La Carlotta!" The managers turned to each other.
"Good grief, we shall have to cancel..." muttered Andre. Firmin ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Being the taller of the two, he was the decision maker. His youthful black hair and plush moustache, plus his extravagant taste in clothing, made him appear confident and successful. But really he was just like Andre. He and Andre then walked to their office, to try and figure out what to do next.
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Christine had rushed tea, and gone upstairs again, leaving Louisa to clean up and then crawl back into her office. Once Christine was alone in her room, she lay on her bed and took out the photo of her parents that she kept under her bed.
She had hardly known them. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her father; she had had a little time with him. He too died, only a few days after her fourth birthday. Christine fingered the photo. The faces smiled back, but Christine felt like they were strangers. Her father and she had been very close, but she barely remembered him. He was just a face…a name. Louisa and her husband were her family now. She never called them Mum or Dad though. A tear rolled down her cheek. She felt so alone. She brushed the tear away and sniffed.
'Get a grip' She told herself, 'you can't change anything, what is, will always be...'
Christine sighed and heaved herself off her bed. It was getting late, so she put on her pajamas and slipped into bed. It took her an age to get to sleep; even then, she was still restless. She got up again and put the silver necklace on. She lay back down again, and stroked the mask. It soothed her instantly and she began to unwind. 'I wonder where it came from...'she thought, as she fell into a deep sleep.
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