PLEASE READ IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE FOR BETTER UNDERSTANDING:
This story is loosely based on Phantom of the Opera, and while it begins following closely to the movie, by the end of the second chapter it will become it's own story with movie scenes becoming fewer. You will learn that not every character is true to their original in the movie, and most names have been changed, the characteristics of the main characters (i.e. Belle, Rumplestiltskin, and Colette) will remain mostly true. Belle and Rumplestiltskin are not immediately introduce but will definitely be making an appearance halfway through the first chapter. Song lyrics from the movie will not be listed (as I have had an annoying online encounter with a user by the name of Catspats31 and I which to avoid copyright issues he has nothing better to do than to point out), if you read every word you will know that they are singing. You are free to listen to the songs on youtube as you read for a better experience if you do not already know the songs. Simply type in Phantom of the Opera soundtrack and you should find a playlist with the songs in order. You may PM for any questions you have. Or for the cheat sheet of who is who and what their names mean. I will send it to you. Thank you and enjoy.
The streets of Paris were busy as ever on that cold Friday morning in October, as a horse drawn carriage stopped short in front of the Opera Populaire, the grand opera house. The door opened as two gentlemen, dressed in fine suits as one could come by when entering into the business of the arts, stepped out and took a pause to awe at the beauty of the building.
"This is it my friend," Victor slapped his companion's shoulder and gestured at the building, "our new start."
Francis looked skeptically at Victor, sighing, "Perhaps we will have better luck than we did in our junkyard business."
"Scrap metal." Victor quickly retorted. It was a mistake his friend would often make, if not in a friendly banter.
They had bought the opera house from a man named Jefferson, who wished to relieve himself of the business. The two men had never met the previous owner before, as they only communicated through letters and proxies, but were told that he could no longer keep up with the work. Whether by age or experience they didn't know, but being men of passion for the arts and money, they saw it as a great chance to begin again after their previous failed endeavor.
After taking in the view of the building which would become their new home for business, they walked up the stone steps to the double doors. If only they had known that the outside appearance was only diminished by it's even grander beauty inside. The wide double staircase that met in the middle as one were carved in fine marble, with statues of well-sculpted women in dark wood placed at the ends of the banisters. Intricate designs were carved above the arches of the doorways and openings on the second floor, and several miniature light fixtures were placed between those arches to offer a secondary light source to the chandelier that hung from the ceiling.
The two men stared at the beauty of the building as they had done so moments ago outside, only to be interrupted by a voice behind them.
"Beautiful, isn't she?"
They turned to see a young man in his late thirties, dressed as a man of higher status than one would expect from him. He offered his hand as he introduced himself.
"I'm Jefferson. The owner of the Opera Populaire. You must be Francis and Victor."
Francis was the first to shake his hand as he smirked, "You're Jefferson?"
"That I am."
"Well I must say, I'm shocked."
The man known as Jefferson smiled, "How so?"
"We did not expect you to be so young. How did you come by this business, may I ask?"
"Not at all. I inherited the opera house from my father, whose own father had built it. I guess you could say it belongs in the family."
"And you wish you to give it up for two old fools as ourselves?" Victor joked.
Jefferson chuckled. "Well, let's say that growing up here I have had my fair share of the art. It was never stated in my father's will that I had to keep the place. However, I did do good by the old man by making sure it was in good hands before I left."
"And we are happy to take it from you." Francis smiled.
"Jefferson!"
The three men looked up to the second level from which the voice was heard and saw a slightly younger man walk down the stairs in a slightly hurried pace. He was tall with dark hair, but had more build than Jefferson.
"Monsieur Francis, Monsieur Victor, I would like to introduce to you Viscount Gaston de Sanglier. It is thanks to his family's great contributions that the opera house has been able to continue running and performing shows, and that those performers have a place to live."
The men shook hands, each pleasured to meet the other.
"It's great to meet you Viscount Gaston. We've heard a great deal about you."
"I'm sure you have." He smiled.
"Why don't we gentlemen head towards the stage, so we can introduce the performers to their new owners?" Jefferson offered.
He lead everyone through the opera house as they headed backstage, so Francis and Victor could get a sense of their workers environment. When they arrived they were thrown into the chaos of orders from those in charge of the dresses and props, giggling from the female dancers, and the loud drums of the music as a singer stopped to complain about her dress being too long. Jefferson stepped onto stage and clapped, calling out to the maestro to stop the music, hoping to get everyone's attention.
"Senor, please, we are rehearsing!" The maestro complained, albeit politely.
"My apologizes Maestro Antoine, Madam Emile," he looked towards a middle-aged woman who was stretching offstage, "if I could get everyone's attention."
He waited for the music and the voices to die down until everyone's attention was on him.
He cleared his throat, "Thank you. Now I know that most of you have heard rumors of my retirement. I will now tell you...that they are all true."
Exclamations and accusations were murmured across the crowd but settled down when Jefferson held up his hand.
"Please, thank you. I would like to introduce to you Monsieur Francis and Monsieur Victor." Jefferson gestured towards the two men, who waved at the performers to make clear of their appearance. "They will be taking my place as the new owners of the Opera Populaire. Also, I would like to assure you that the Viscount will continue to fund the opera house so you will all continue to have a place to live."
The last bit of news was met with shouts of joy as the performers went about to continue their rehearsal. A woman, who was dressed in a rather outlandish costume for their 'Hannibal' production, walked up to the new owners and held out her hand, which Victor did not hesitate to take and kiss the top of. When Victor leg go of her hand she turned towards the Viscount next to him and smiled in a flirting manner. He also took her hand, kissing it slightly longer than Victor had done.
Jefferson suppressed a smile, "This is Manette Bibeau, our leading soprano."
She cleared her throat.
"And our leading lady in our new production." he continued.
"So nice to meet you," she grinned widely at the men.
"It's a pleasure to meet you as well," Francis smiled back. "Would you please allow us to hear you sing?"
She have a low giggle, "Of course. Maestro!"
She yelled towards the man, who nearly jumped at her command. "If my diva commands it."
"Yes, I do."
Manette made her way to the center stage as Madam Emile made her way to the gentlemen, helping them find the right spot to stand and watch as dancers began to flow onto the stage. They watched as they gracefully moved and the music played, waiting for the soprano to begin singing. When she did it was a high-pitched tone that was needed for an opera singer, but not quite refined, making it ear piercing to the men. Neither Francis nor Victor showed their discomfort, unlike many others listening, and applauded as Manette continued to sing. They turned their attention to the dancers, noticing a couple of faces that stood out.
"Tell me, who is that blonde dancer there?" Francis leaned towards Madam Emile.
"That is Mae. She is one of our best dancers."
"And that little brunette." Victor pointed towards a heart-shaped face girl.
"Belle," Madam Emile answered, "my daughter."
"Emile. I thought that name sounded familiar. Are you two by any chance related to the great violinist Maurice Emile?"
"My late husband, yes."
"My apologizes for your loss." Francis gently smiled.
Madam Emile, Colette as the dancers knew her, returned the smile and looked back at her daughter, "Thank you. She lost her father when she was young. We have been living here ever since."
They watched the rehearsal as Manette continued to sing when suddenly screams were heard and a back drop fell on top of the young soprano, blocking her from half of the performers.
"AH!" She cried out. "GET IT OFF ME!"
The men and actors rushed towards her as Jefferson looked up towards the counter weight system above where the fly crew worked, calling out, "Jacques! What in God's name is going on up there?!"
A bearded man could be seen pulling on ropes, making the backdrop lift off of Manette, looking down and answered, "It wasn't me sure. I swear! There was no one there!"
Commotion began as the Francis and Victor looked at each other, not noticing Colette and Jefferson's worried expression.
"And if there was...well than, it must have been a ghost."
Gasps were heard from nearly everyone as the new owners simply groaned. They had heard about the 'ghost of the opera house' or as it also went by, the Phantom, when they set out to buy the place. But neither believed in such a thing, and they still didn't.
"Good God in Heaven, there is no such thing!" Francis called out.
"Perhaps." Jacques muttered from above.
Jefferson turned towards Francis and Victor and sighed, "Good luck men."
He began to walk off when Francis stopped him. "You're leaving? Now?"
"Yes." He simply said.
"May I ask what exactly you are retiring for? You're far too young."
Jefferson grinned. "My health."
He left the stage of the Opera Populaire for the last time with another word, leaving the new owners to worry and argue of the quite recent event. Gaston helped the singer up and no one noticed Madam Emile walking into the shadows of the backstage, watching an envelope slowly fall down.
Manette let out a cry of frustration and marched up to Francis and Victor.
"No no!" She pointed a finger at the now confused and nervous owners, shaking it to emphasize her point. "This is the last straw! I quit!"
Maestro Antoine and various actors groaned and heavily sighed, having dealt with the diva's moods before.
"What?" Victor looked at her, "You can't be! You're the leading soprano!"
"I don't care!"
Francis laid a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her, but she only pushed it off roughly. "Please Senora, you must understand. This was merely an...an-"
He looked towards Victor hoping for some sort of answer when he replied, "An accident!"
"Yes! An accident." Francis grinned.
Manette stared at the men, shocked, "An accident?! No! This, was the third accident...this month!"
She poked a finger into Francis' chest. "And since you're the new owners, you fix it! Until then, I am gone!"
She stormed off, yelling and ordering at the few workers who worshiped her feet, and left the stage. Francis and Victor looked at each other wide eyed, not sure what to do next. Madam Emile walked up and handed them the letter that she had picked up.
"What's this?" Francis asked, taken it from her and reading it.
"It's a letter. From the Opera Ghost."
"The Opera Ghost?! Of God in Heaven, you're all obsessed!"
"He says that his monthly salary is due," she explained, ignoring the Francis' shocked look, "and insist that you leave Box Five empty, for his use." She pointed towards the seats high above in the theater, showing the one mentioned in the letter.
"Salary?!"
"What do we do now?" Victor nearly panicked. "We have a full house and no singer!"
"Don't worry, we'll think of something. She can't just leave, can she?" Francis looked towards Madam Emile, who merely shrugged her shoulders. The Maestro however was frayed, having just lost their only singer for the night's production.
"Well surely there must be an..an...an understudy!"
"An understudy? An understudy? For Manette Bibeau?" The Maestro nervously exclaimed. "There is no understudy for Manette Bibeau!"
"Belle can do it." A calm voice spoke.
Everyone looked towards Colette who had spoken. She was standing next to her daughter, who was shocked not only by the recent events concerning Manette and the backdrop but her mother who had so casually offered for her to sing. She was a dancer, not a singer, and even the new owners knew that.
"Her? But she is a dancer." Victor said, as if it was a pointless effort on Madam Emile's part.
"Perhaps," Gaston interrupted, "but she also happens to be my fiance. I think it would do the company well for her to be on stage, don't you agree?"
Colette spoke, trying to get the men on the more important issue at the moment rather than business, "She has a beautiful voice. And she has been taken lessons from a great teacher."
The two men looked at the daughter, as if trying to see in her appearance if her mother was right.
"Who is your teacher?" Francis asked.
Belle opened her mouth, hesitant to speak. She wasn't use to all this attention, especially when it was from the new owners of the opera house. "I'm...um, I'm not sure. I never met him."
"Let her sing for you." Her mother quickly interjected, as if her daughter's answer would turn the owners against the idea. "She has a beautiful voice."
"She certainly is pretty." Victor whispered in Francis' ear.
Francis sighed, "Very well."
Colette nudged her daughter closer to the center stage as the maestro took his place in front of the podium, sheet music and baton ready.
"From the beginning of the aria, mademoiselle."
The men stepped aside once more as the music began to play again. Belle opened her mouth and began to sing. Suddenly, as she continued to sing, everyone in the room and on the stage made their way closer to the girl as the owners stared with their mouth wide open.
It was beautiful. Her voice was as soft as a bell and it flowed without any hitch, unlike that of Manette's. It was the perfect level of tones that reached the high notes without piercing everyone's ear and gave a sweet seduction tone when touching the low notes. Everything was perfect and they could see that Colette spoke true, if it wasn't an understatement. They had just found their new soprano. And in time for tonight's gala.
After the song finished, everyone applauded and cheered and those who had stuffed their ear with cotton before Manette began her solo, nearly cried in sweet relief to hear such a beautiful voice for perhaps the first time.
"Bravo!" Francis and Victor cried out, applauding the girl.
"She's wonderful!"
"We have found our new soprano!" They called out, receiving even more cheers from the performers.
Belle was suddenly taken off stage in a hurry to get her ready for the night's show, since she would no longer be a dancer. The owners and the Viscount went off to celebrate not only their first day but their assured success of their new Manette Bibeau.
When the stage filed out and became nearly empty, Colette made her way into the shadows again. She clung onto the letter, making sure not to be seen by Jacques who liked to linger backstage and watch the dancers change.
She slipped into the hallways and behind a drape, which concealed a hidden door. Gently closing the door behind her she made her way down the stone covered corridor, ignoring the cobwebs that hung in the corner and the darkness that sought to suffocate her.
Minutes passed as she came to a turn but she halted in her fast pace. There he was standing in the shadows, the familiar silhouette of the Phantom.
"Rumplestiltskin." She quietly muttered. It was not for the cautious of being heard by others-although the stones echoed throughout the corridor, they did not reveal spoken words to the outside-but rather the slight fear that would always grab her when she laid eyes on him. Even if he was a friend.
"Finally." He spoke. "Belle is where she belongs. For now."
Colette held her breath. She knew what he meant. "What will you do now? With my daughter?"
The Phantom didn't say a word and for a moment she feared he had not heard her. Which was a ridiculous notion being where they were and she knew he didn't like to be asked the same question over and over.
"I will continue to train her, as I always have. So she will rise to become the Prima Donna she deserves to be. And as long as you keep your bargain, she will be taken care of."
Colette gulped. "Of course...old friend."
But he didn't answer. He had already left into the shadows of the opera house.
That night, spectators of all different statuses swarmed into the opera house having heard news of a new soprano that would rival Manette Bibeau. It was the show of the week and no one wanted to miss it. The new owners made themselves known, welcoming everyone and meeting with the higher end of the classes. They made sure to always speak fondly of Viscount Gaston, who had also joined in the night's entertainment as he always sought to do.
Backstage the performers were all running left and right, hurrying to get their parts ready before the curtains were raised. Belle was in her dressing room-which was actually Manette's but Belle had be given it since the former was no longer part of the production-nervously finishing her dressing. Her mother was tying the corset of the dress when she noticed her daughter's shallow breathing.
"Are you alright child?"
Belle glanced at her mother in the mirror on her table. "Yes mother, I'm alright."
Colette finished tying the strings. "It's alright to be nervous. This is your first time singing on stage."
"Or to anyone for that matter."
They didn't speak about it. Belle had told her mother stories when she was a child about the Phantom that visited her at night, and while any parent would be worried for their child, Colette had simply offered her daughter advice.
Do not anger the Phantom.
Whenever Belle asked her mother if she knew of the man that lived in the shadows, Colette always paused before answering no. But Belle knew the answer.
When Belle was finished getting dressed they made their way to the stage, and Colette watched on the side as her daughter sang the most beautiful arrangement of a song they had only heard Manette sing before. The crowds offstage and backstage watched with held breaths and awed eyes. Her friend Mae was standing next to Madam Emile feeling pride in her friend she had never felt before, and Colette took one last look at her daughter before leaving once more.
The song ended and after a moment of pause to take in the beauty they had just heard, flowers began to be thrown on stage in graceful manners. Cheers of bravo were heard and Maestro Antoine could be seen nearly crying in his performance, an expression he had never shown with Manette. Francis and Victor applauded from their seats in Box Five as Viscount Gaston, who sat in Box Four, watched Belle on stage. He stood up and left the box and into the hallway, passing down the stairs. He hadn't noticed the figure of a woman who quickly hid behind a shadow as to not be seen by him as he made his way outside and into the night.
And no one, but one, knew of the Phantom that was hiding beneath the shadows who had listened to music that came from the dancer's soul. He let out a breath as it was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. Oh how he loved that girl.
He turned, noticing another presence, to see his old friend again and it was clear she was proud of her daughter as well. He held out his hand which held a red rose with a green ribbon tied to the stem, offering it to her. But Colette knew it wasn't for her.
"Give this to Belle. She deserves it."
Colette took the gift and looked up at the Phantom's shadow, for she never did see his face anymore. It was always covered behind the mask and the darkness. He was always more comfortable that way.
"And I will be seeing her tonight."
Colette wanted to tell him that Belle needed rest after such a grand performance, but he wouldn't listen to such things; reminding her once more that despite the new owners and the Viscount's generous funding, the opera house would always be the Phantom's.
TBC
Yes, I am calling it the Beauty and the Phantom because it is two in the morning, and I used all my creative juices for every word of the chapter (I really put my heart into this one). And because I can.
Please Review! Reviews are like Christmas and Birthday presents to writers and as I said, I really put my heart and love into this story, even if it's not done yet, so I would love to hear what you have to say about it. Thank you. :)