Hello there! So this is my new fanfic on Phantom of the Opera with inspiration mostly from the play (and movie). The story will navigate from the Opera Populaire and change to other new locations. I would appreciate feedback, reviews, etc; I don't know if I will continue this so any feedback would be amazing! Thank you, and enjoy.
The young woman's belongings were huddled near the wooden door of the orphanage; she only had two small bags, but she gathered all her things into them in order to move into the city. Lavern, the farmer down the road, had offered her a ride into town.
Amelia Jarnette stood around her many sisters and brothers, most of them teary eyed at their sisters departure. True, the orphans weren't related, but they had been a family for years. Amelia's parting would leave a hole in their hearts.
"Oh, but must you go? We will miss you!" a little girl proclaimed, holding on to the young woman's dress. Several other children yelled in agreement. The young woman smiled sadly.
"I have to go, dear. It's my time and I must work, too. But I will visit! Soon, it will be Christmas, and I will be home again", Amelia stated, hugging her fellow orphans tightly.
"Write to us, Amie, please!"
"Don't forget about us!"
The young woman looked around at the sad faces around her. She did not want to leave them but she had been at Coellard Orphanage past her time. The cut off point for orphans staying at the home was eighteen. Yet, her foster mother, Mrs. Coellard, took pity on Amelia, and gave her time to try and receive employment.
Amelia had written to several businesses in town, and even went to see several owners about work. She had even talked to a few maids who worked in the Opera Populaire, the grand opera house. Months passed, and no word.
The young woman's future seemed bleak. Like most of her life, she spent her days cleaning and cooking for the other orphans; she was more than good at her job, putting all her strength into what she cleaned. When night came, the children would gather around her near the only fire in the small home. They would wait patiently until she was able to take the break for the night; she would sit and tell them wondrous stories of princes and kind dragons while evil witches plotted against the humble queen. She acted out every part and even sung some parts; Amelia was not very talented in her singing, yet she was successful in making the children laugh their hearts out.
She could not dance, nor sing. But she told beautiful tales that would keep even the most troublesome child calm. Her soft amber eyes and rose colored lips accompanied her long midnight-colored curls. Both her beauty and kindness were known throughout the outskirts of the countryside; however, underprivileged, orphan maidens were not seen very suitable for marriage.
Amelia was content with her life, nevertheless. She helped in what she could around the home, and she gave hope to her brothers and sisters. Her stories gave comfort as a fire in the winter.
On a fateful morning, the young woman received a letter, adorned with an intricate stamp. The Opera Populaire was requesting a new maid (and a small interview to establish boarding and pay).
It was incredible how fast her things had been packed. She was well aware an opportunity like this would not come again. Amelia did not care if she was scrubbing floors; it was time for her to work.
"Maybe you will be a storyteller, or an actress, Amie!"
"All of Paris will know your name!"
They all believed in her with all their hearts.
Footsteps were heard approaching the living space. Mrs. Coellard looked young in her cream dress, her hair in a tight silver braid falling down her back. Her kind face showed signs of a hard life, but a kind soul.
"Are you ready, dear?" the foster woman asked kindly.
"Yes, ma'am. I am," Amelia responded, looking toward her large family. No, she would not cry. She would be strong for them.
The children hugged her one last time, and Mrs. Collard kissed her cheek softly, sending blessings in her ear.
"I will be waiting for your letter, dear. Oh! And here. This will help."
The older woman had tucked a small coin bag into Amelia's hand. It was not much, but it would afford a meal or two. The young woman tried protesting courteously but Mrs. Coellard would not have it.
They accompanied her to the hay carriage, her small belongings placed in the straw. Amelia could not hold back tears as the carriage began to move, the orphanage become smaller and smaller in the distance. The group of children waved, as Mrs. Coellard swayed her handkerchief. The sun was high in the sky as Amelia's adult life had begun.
Her heart was thumping madly as she entered the opera house lobby, passing through hoards of actors, maids, and performers. Amelia had never seen a building so magnificent, so beautiful in her life. She could not help touch the wondrous golden statues adorning the lobby, as she watched a normal day in the opera house pass before her.
She held the letter in her hand; the young woman was to wait in the lobby near noon for a certain Madam Giry.
Amelia was perfectly on time. She tried calming her nerves, reading the letter again; she patted her dress down, making sure there were not any stains or dust.
"Ahem…Miss Jarnette?"
A voice called out to her name behind her. Madam Giry was a serious woman in her fifty's, clad in a beaded black dress. Her brown eyes surveyed Amelia curiously.
"Oh, yes, good afternoon, Ma'am," Amelia responded, curtsying lowly. Madam Giry admired her attitude.
"Pleasure. I am Madam Giry, in charge of the ballet. Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Farmin are busy at the moment, so I will interview you. Any questions can be answered by me. Now, let us walk."
Amelia followed Madam Giry around the lobby staircase, asking the young woman about her life. Amelia was completely truthful, telling the woman of her experience at the orphanage and skills she had learned. Madam Giry did not need know much more information, as she had already made up her mind.
"Now, you will work in the afternoon and nighttime. After the performances, the main room and lobby need a thorough cleaning. There are other maids that will be working alongside you, of course. You will be paid by the end of the week, a franc a day. Now…"
Amelia was listening intently at the woman's words. Madame Giry stopped near a corridor near intricate stairs leading down under the opera house.
"I will assume you do not have place to live…?"
"Oh…no, ma'am. I do not," Amelia responded, blushing slightly.
"Follow me, then."
They walked down the staircase, the air growing slightly colder. Lanterns illuminated the corridor of the cramped boarding rooms of the opera. Several doors were in the corridor, looking quite small from the outside. A few maids were leaving their rooms off to their post. They looked at Amelia enviously.
Madame Giry stopped at the last wooden door. She unlocked it gently.
"This is your room as part of your employment. I am aware it might not be too spacious. I have been trying to get them refurbished by Monsieur Firman, yet his social events seem to be more important", Madame Giry stated, her mouth closing in frustration.
"Oh no ma'am, it is perfect. Thank you! I appreciate this immensely," Amelia stated, happy to have her own little space. Madam Giry was intrigued by this young woman. Most maids are not very happy to be working at opera house. Perhaps she was clueless at the amount of work this meant. She will learn in time, then.
"Hm. Two meals are served each day, 6 a.m. and 5 p.m. It is not much, but Monsieur Veragio's broth can revive the dead. Passes once, be alert. Now…any questions?"
Amelia shook her head respectively. The Madam then handed the small key to Amelia. She smiled kindly to the new young maid.
"Well then. Welcome to the opera house, Miss Jarnette."
With that, Madame Giry turned around and walked up the stairs. Amelia was left alone in her new quarters.
She walked into the cramped room, the ceiling almost hitting her head on the way in. A trifling bed lay in the corner, while a drawer and a small night table were near the bed. There was no window. Amelia saw several candles on the night table. She lit them with a few spare matches she found in the lower drawer.
The room was clear to her now. She could barely spin around once before hitting the bed. Her two bags were taking up space already. Even though it was confined space, Amelia was content.
She sat on the bed, feeling slightly anxious. Amelia hoped this was the right thing.
The hazel eyes watched the fire flicker in the corner, illuminating her room and her mind. She started humming softly, praying to help her feel safe.
Please Review! :)