So this is my first story ever, I'm really worried about it. So please tell me what you think and whether or not I should continue it. The first chapter takes place in the present storyline of the Phantom of the Opera, the rest of the story will take place in the past, during Erik's childhood to young adult years.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything Phantom of the Opera or any of the other references I've made below (like Beauty and the Beast).
"Are you all taking this seriously?" a worn-out shout boomed across the stage. "I am very disappointed with your performance today. Disappointed, indeed." The middle-aged woman hastily stomped to the back of the stage where all the subordinate dancers performed.
"Genève! What did you think you were doing? You have clearly not practiced the routine that goes after the second position change!" The poor ballerina was shaking underneath the older woman's furious glare.
"Do you believe that being in the back will make me lenient with your mistakes? Your lack of practice is the reason why you were placed in the back in the first place!" The woman used the curve of her cane to move the young ballerina's ankle half a foot forward.
The unusually thin, blond-haired girl choked when she tried to apologize. "I'm s-sorry M-madame Giry, I'll try h-harder, I-I'll p-p-practice more. I swear!" She was shaking; she hated being reprimanded by their choreographer.
Madame Antoinette Giry was a difficult woman to deal with, according to the ballerina rats. Her face was hardened with experience. Her eyes, which sat on two layers of darkened eye bags, lightened more with flecks of gray as time passed by. Her hair was starting to gray on the top and her skin began to become loose all around. The years were not kind to her, with all the teaching she had to do for so long ever since she was younger. Although she carried a black wooden cane, Madame Giry was perfectly capable of walking independently. She only used the darn thing as a variation to a metronome, pounding it on the floor to the beats accordingly.
The big-boned woman returned to her original post: the side of the stage. She was observing her students as they held their final positions, making sure they were perfectly done. They still needed some work to do, but it was already getting late. She could see her students; all of them were tired, some had drooping eyelids while others were yawning uncontrollably, having a domino effect on the ballerinas who saw them. Even her daughter, Meg, was trying too hard to keep herself awake.
"Alright. I can see that you are all tired from today's practice. Rehearsal is over! All of you! Return to your quarters and get a good night's sleep. We will continue from here tomorrow morning. Good night." Madame Giry watched as all the ballerinas scurried back to their rooms. She exhaled a big sigh and walked down the stage. As she looked across the aisle, she could see a feminine figure in front of the double doors.
There was complete silence in the theatre. It felt like eternity as the two women on both ends of the middle aisle stared at each other. Finally, the mysterious figure stepped forward into the light and revealed her physique. She was tall, but rather skinny, unlike Madame Giry. There were several graying strands on the sides of her dark brown hair, which was wrapped into a loose bun. Her light brown eyes were also harboring gray specks, a natural occurrence that comes with age. She had wrinkles on the sides of her eyes as she smiled a warm smile of a friend. Even though Madame Giry hadn't seen her in over ten years, she immediately recognized the woman.
"Elle, it's about time you returned. How are you?" Madame Giry walked across the aisle while the woman on other end slowly sauntered to meet the former in the middle. The two exchanged two pecks on each side of the face and a long hug.
"Oh Antoinette! I've missed you so much! I'm surprised you still remember me, it's been too long since we last saw each other." The other woman happily chuckled.
"I know, dear, it really has." Madame Giry continued, "What brings you back to the Opera Populaire?"
"I'm the director of a travelling opera. I'm not sure if you've heard of it. La Belle et la Bête?" The woman smiled, hoping that her friend has heard of it before.
Madame Giry returned the smile and laughed, "I've heard of it, but I've never seen it."
"Lucky for you then! We're having a few shows here in the Opera Populaire!" Upon hearing this, Madame Giry's smile faltered. The other woman saw this and gave her a questioning look.
"Eleanor…" Madame Giry used her oldest friend's real name. She would never do that unless it was something serious. "He won't like this."
Eleanor was confused for a second and then realized whom she was talking about. "Erik's still here? My God, it's been too long." She continued, "How is he? Has he been doing well? Can I see him?" She was smiling again; she was excited. She hadn't seen her old friend in years.
"Eleanor…you can't." Madame Giry put her hand on her friend's shoulder. It suddenly dawned unto her the reason why. But before she could say anything, Madame Giry continued.
"You're dead to him."