The cold winter wind blew across my face, stinging my eyes and causing pieces of hair to fall out of place. I brushed them back and walked up the stony steps to the "Opera Populaire". I opened the heavy metallic doors and into a magnificent lobby. Statues adorned the sides and the gold walls shone. I felt out of place in my tattered clothing and messy hair. I hoped that my appearances wouldn't matter. That my talent would speak for itself. I hoped.
I asked directions to the stage area from a maid who was dusting a statue. I followed her directions down a hallway and into an amazing stage room. I was completely captivated by the sight. I didn't remember it being so big…
"You!" an angry looking man shouted at me. "What are you doing here?" he yelled as he walked towards me. He had short black hair and was wearing a black suit.
"I-I'm Mary-Alice. I'm auditioning today. I was told to come here…" I stammered nervously.
The man's face softened and then twisted into a slightly disgusted look. "You're Mary-Alice?" he asked, obviously expecting someone different. I suddenly felt self conscious of my torn clothes, messy hair and dirty face. I wish that I had been able to clean up a bit before coming here, but that hadn't exactly been an option.
"Yes monsieur, I am. I am here to audition" I repeated. I tried to appear as oblivious to my appearance as possible. Maybe he would get past it.
"Well yes, of course. I am Monsieur Firmin, one of the owners of this opera house." he stated.
I gave a small curtsy. "Bonjour Monsieur." I said quietly. When I looked up his face had become less shocked and he smiled slightly.
"Alright then." You shall be given a new outfit, one that is more suitable for dancing, for your audition. You shall see Madame Giry about that…"
"Oh, monsieur. I am not here to dance. I'm a singer and a musician." I interrupted. I had not come here to become a dancer.
Monsieur Firmin looked a little disappointed. "You mean you have no dance experience at all? We are in great need of a new dancer…"
"Well, monsieur," I interrupted again "I do have some dance experience. It's just that I had trained more as a singer and musician." It was not a complete lie. My mother had tried to teach me ballet when I was eleven. I had done it for about a year before I decided that I was no good and quit.
"Oh, that's better then. You will of course, be able to audition in all three areas. Ah! Here comes Madame Giry now" he said as he pointed to a women entering. She was wearing a black dress and her long dark hair was braided. She walked in a way that made her look important.
"Bonjour Madame" Firmin said as the woman approached us. "This is Mary-Alice, the one who has come to audition today. If you could get her into a proper dance costume so that she may…"
"Of course" the woman said. She turned to me. "Come with me." She said and then turned away. I followed her.
We walked out of the room and down a hallway. The hallway was a bit dark and had a few paintings in frames. There were doors every couple of feet along the walls. We finally stopped at one and she pushed it open. It lead into a big room filled with wardrobes. She walked in and went to one at the end of the wall. She opened it and it was filled with white ballet costumes.
"These should fit you. Change into one and then go back to the stage. You remember the way back right?" she asked.
I nodded my head. She turned around and walked out the door, closing it behind her. I grabbed one of the costumes out of the wardrobe. I took off the clothes that I had on and slipped into the white leotard with a puffy skirt attached. It fit perfectly besides the skirt, which was too large for my waist causing it to slip down farther than it was supposed to. After trying to fix it, and failing, I shrugged and hoped that it wouldn't matter. I looked in a large mirror on the wall. I redid my hair into a tight bun. When I looked back up, I was shocked to see how much I actually looked like a real dancer. I was short, exceedingly so. I was only barely five feet at fifteen years old. I was a little too thin from not eating enough recently. My red hair pulled back tightly looked better than it probably had in a month. After deciding I looked acceptable I turned and walked out of the room.
I walked quickly down the hallway, not wanting to keep them waiting long. I remembered the way perfectly so I had no trouble finding my way back. As I entered Madame Giry directed me to go on stage. She told me to leave and go through some doors down the hall and then I would find the backstage, where it would be easy to find the stage from.
I walked through the doors and entered the backstage area. It was full of stagehands, probably preparing for a rehearsal later that day. It felt like they were all looking at me as I walked by.
I finally got to the stage. I stepped forward and slowly walked to the center. Looking out at the hundreds of seats from the center of the stage made me feel even more nervous than I had been before. It made it seem like I was being watched by more people than the three that I was actually performing in front of.
"Now Mademoiselle, you shall first sing, then you shall show us your instrumental talent and then you will dance." Monsieur Firmin instructed. "Whenever you are ready."
I took a deep breath. I shouldn't be nervous; I had practiced this song hundreds of times in the past few weeks. It should be easy. I took a breath and started to sing.
The song was "Think of Me". I had heard it when I had come here with my parents five years ago, when Christine Daae had first sung the lead. I had been so captivated by her that I had never forgot the song and had been singing it ever since.
As I sang, I remembered my mother singing with me. She had loved this song as well and had helped me learn to hit some of the higher of the notes. She was a natural soprano. I had always loved my mother's voice. When she talked it sounded like velvet, but when she sang it was like magic. I had always asked her why she had never been a performer. She had told me that her parents had not wanted her to be a performer so she wasn't allowed. That's why she taught me to sing, so that I could be a performer like she had wanted to be.
I hit the final note of the song and looked out at the reactions of the people. There was Madame Giry, Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre, the other owner of the opera house.
"Very good," Monsieur Firmin said. "Now, you play the piano, correct?" he asked me.
"Yes Monsieur." I answered. I looked around the stage and saw a large black piano behind me. I turned and walked towards it and sat on the bench in front of it. It was a very large and very beautiful. Much prettier than the old one we used to have at home. But the bench was cold and hard. The one that had been at our house had always seemed warmer and soft. Probably because I would almost always sit next to my father as I played. He had always loved to be next to me as I played, even after he had stopped giving me lessons. He, like my mother, had wanted me to be a performer. But he wanted me to be a piano player.
I began to play. I did not need any sheet music; I knew this song by heart. Of course I did, I had written it. Despite not have playing for over a month, I had not had access to a piano recently; I played all the correct notes. I tried to focus on letting the notes flow, like my father had taught me, instead of hitting each of them separately. I silently forgot the rest of the world, as I often did, as I played. I had missed this so much and was happy to be playing again.
As I finished the last of the notes, I left my dream world and reentered the real one. The song was finished so I got up off of the bench and walked back towards the center of the stage and waited for any sort of response.
"What song was that?" Monsieur Andre asked me. It was the first time I had heard him speak. His voice was a bit lower than Monsieur Firmin's, and sounded a bit nicer.
"It was my own song, Monsieur. Why? Would you rather I perform one of the prewritten pieces? Because I could…" I asked. I had questioned for along time whether or not to perform my own work. I never knew how good that it was, only that I had liked the way it sounded.
"No no!" Monsieur Andre interrupted. "That was lovely. I only questioned it because I had never heard it. After you sang the song that you did I had expected you to use a piece from one of our past productions." He assured me.
"Now," Monsieur Firmin started, "We will need you to dance for us. We will have our pianist play for you. What song would you prefer? He asked me.
This was the part that I was most nervous for. I had prepared a dance, but it wasn't very complicated. I told the song and the pianist, who I hadn't noticed sit at the piano behind me after I had got up, pulled out the music from a large leather folder. I went to the first position and waited for the music to start.
As the music started I began to dance. The dance wasn't amazing. It was alright, I stumbled twice but I quickly recovered and didn't miss a step after. I tried my hardest to remember what my mother had taught me during out short lessons. Large, over exaggerated movements, pointing my toes, and keep my head high. If anything, I did those things.
The dance lasted about five minutes, long enough to show them my level of dance. As I finished the dance I didn't know how I had done. I wished I had been able to watch myself in a mirror before coming here, so that I had at least known whether I looked acceptable or like a complete fool.
"Okay Mademoiselle," Madame Giry started to say, "That was good. You will need to work on some of your techniques, but at least you know what you are doing." She said. I had not completely failed. At that I was pleased.
"Now if you would please wait a moment as we make a decision." Monsieur Firmin told me as he, Monsieur Andre and Madame Giry started whispering.