This story grew in my head and refused to leave until I had written it down... I am aware that a lot of this chapter is directly copied from the musical, but I promise that, even though this story will follow the musical, there will be more original scenes.
I apologize for any linguistic mistakes, but I'm not a native English speaker, so I ask you to bear with me.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, characters, original lyrics or dialogue.
"Once again, then, if you please."
I worked hard to hide my smirk at the sound of Reyer's voice. It seemed he still wouldn't let up.
"Sad to return," he ordered.
"This way, gentlemen, Mademoiselle, this way. Rehearsals, as you see, are under way for a new production of Chalumeau's 'Hannibal'."
We entered the stage to find the rehearsal at a hiatus. The male lead, a rather round man in the costume of Hannibal, was muttering to himself.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Monsieur Lefevre announced, "Some of you may already, perhaps, have met Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin-"
"I'm sorry, Monsieur Lefevre," Reyer interrupted, "We are rehearsing."
"My apologies, Monsieur Reyer. Proceed, proceed..."
"Thank you, Monsieur. 'Sad to return...', Signor."
"Monsieur Reyer," Lefevre said to Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin. "Our chief repetiteur. Rather a tyrant, I'm afraid."
"He's a perfectionist," I offered. "Nothing tyrannical about him."
The ballet girls hurried on stage while Monsieur Lefevre indicated Hannibal.
"Signor Piangi," he informed, "Our principal tenor. He does play so opposite La Carlotta."
I snorted. "So you still haven't got rid of her?"
Monsieur Lefevre turned to me, frowning disapprovingly but didn't get to say anything as we were interrupted by the banging of a can to the stage.
"Gentlemen! Mademoiselle, please! If you would kindly move to one side!"
"My apologies, Madame Giry," I quipped at once, skipping over to where we had come from.
"Madame Giry, our ballet mistress," Lefevre informed the two men. "I don't mind confessing, Monsieur Firmin, I shan't be sorry to be rid of the whole blessed business."
"I keep asking you, Monsieur, why exactly are you retiring?"
Lefevre ignored him and turned to the dancers again. "We take a particular pride here in the excellence of our ballets. Therefore, we have decided to create a post for a choreographer..." He nodded to me. "Madame Giry's teaching and her technique are formidable, but..."
"Who's that girl, Lefevre?"
We all looked to the girl Monsieur Andre indicated.
"Meg Giry," I said. "Madame Giry's daughter."
"Promising dancer," Lefevre added. "Monsieur Andre, most promising."
"The trumpeting elephants sound,
Hear, Romans, now and tremble!
Hark to their step on the ground,
Hear the drums!
Hannibal comes!"
The last bit of music faded as the scene ended.
"Thank you, thank you – half an hour and we're doing this all again," Monsieur Reyer called out.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lefevre started, but no one paid much attention to him as the large elephant puppet was led off stage. "Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and – Madame Giry, please."
Madame Giry forcefully banged her can to the floor, catching everyone's attention at once.
"Thank you, Madame. May I have your attention, please? As you know, for some weeks there have been rumours of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true and it is my pleasure to introduce you the two gentlemen who now own the Opéra Populaire, Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre... and of course, our new choreographer, Mademoiselle Amélie Bonnet, who is now returning to us."
After a rather loud 'concealed' cough, Monsieur Lefevre hurried to add, "Yes, gentlemen, Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons now."
"Of course, of course," Monsieur Andre hurried to say. "I have experienced all your greatest roles, Signora... if I remember rightly, Elissa has a rather fine aria in Act Tree of Hannibal. I wonder, Signora, if, as a personal favour, you would oblige us with a private rendition? Unless, of course, Monsieur Reyer objects..."
I rolled my eyes. Who really wanted to hear that toad sing?
"My manager commands," Carlotta smiled. "Monsieur Reyer?"
"My diva commands. Will two bars be sufficient introduction?"
"Two bars will be quite sufficient," Monsieur Firmin cackled.
"Signora?"
"Maestro...
Think of me,
Think of me fondly,
When we've said goodbye.
Remember me,
Once in a while –
Please, promise me you'll try!
When you find,
That once again,
You long to take your heart-"
With a loud crash, the backdrop came rushing to the floor. Carlotta screamed loudly as it nearly hit her and her scream was accompanied by the terrified cries of the ballet girls.
"He's here!" Meg Giry exclaimed. "The phantom of the opera!"
In the chaos, Piangi rushed over to Carlotta, trying to comfort her while Meg continued her hysterics.
"He's there... the phantom of the opera!"
All the while, my eyes searched the high passageways, looking for the shadow that I was sure was there; the shadow that had loosened the ropes; the phantom of the opera, indeed.
"Buquet! Where is Buquet? Get that man down here!"
"Who is Buquet?" Monsieur Andre whispered to me and I shrugged.
"Probably the chief of the flies."
The drop rose again and we all looked up to see an elderly stagehand leaning over the rail.
"Buquet!" Monsieur Lefevre called, clearly enraged. "For God's sake, man, what's going on up there?"
"Please monsieur,
Don't look at me:
as God's my witness,
I was not at my post.
Please monsieur,
There's no one there:
and if there is, well,
Then it must be a ghost."
"He's there," Meg exclaimed again. "The phantom of the opera!"
"Good heavens! Will you show a little courtesy?" Monsieur Andre growled. "Please, Signora," he added gesturing to help Carlotta up from where she was still sitting on the stage. "These things do happen."
"Si! These things do happen! For three years these things do happen!" she exclaimed furiously.
I sighed heavily. Carlotta had always been known to throw her fair shares of tantrums. While most cowered from her rage, it only bored me. Her little fits were nothing. Nothing compared to the tantrums other habitants of this opera could throw...
"Well, until you stop these things happening, this thing does not happen! Ubaldo! Andiamo!"
She hurried off, Piangi following her like a loyal dog. "Amateurs," he hissed as he passed his new managers.
I, as many other, watched as the two Italians took off and then turned back to the managers.
"Well, then," Monsieur Lefevre said. "I don't think there's much more to assist you, gentlemen. Good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Frankfurt."
He hurried off stage and Monsieur Firmin reached up to wipe sweat from his bald head. He only slowly became aware of the eyes locked on him, clearly waiting for orders. "La Carlotta will be back," he said finally.
"You think so, Messieurs?" Madame Giry asked, but didn't bother to wait for any reply. "I have a message, Sir, from the Opera Ghost."
"God in Heaven, you're all obsessed!" Monsieur Firmin exclaimed, while my gaze shot upstage again; was he still there, watching?
I had arrived last night, counting on him to greet me; after all, he was the one who wanted me to come back here. Admittedly, he wasn't known for his sociable nature, but some sort of welcome was still to be expected!
"He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use and reminds you that his salary is due."
"His salary?" Monsieur Firmin repeated incredulously.
"Monsieur Lefevre paid him twenty thousand francs a month," Madame Giry explained. "Perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte de Chagny as your patron."
I raised an eyebrow at her at this news. Very good news, indeed, for this opera house... Surely, if he learnt this, he would order them to pay more. It was his opera, after all.
"Madame, I had hoped to have made that announcement myself," Monsieur Andre said, rather disgruntled.
"Will the Vicomte be at the performance tonight, Monsieur?"
"In our box," Monsieur Firmin informed.
"Madame, who is the understudy for this role?"
"There is no understudy, Monsieur!" Reyer interrupted, clearly upset about the loss of his lead. "The production is new!"
"Christine Daaé could sing it, Sir!" a voice piped and we turned to see Meg Giry beaming at us hopefully.
"A ballet girl?" I asked.
"She's been taking lessons from a great teacher!"
"From whom?" Monsieur Andre inquired
"I don't know, Sir," Christine Daaé answered uneasily as she took a hesitant step forwards. She was rather pretty, I thought, but clearly shy. Far from what the role of Elissa would need. And who really knew if the girl could sing?
"Oh, not you as well!" Firmin exclaimed. "Can you believe it? A full house and we have to cancel!"
"Let her sing for you, Monsieur," Madame Giry suggested. "She has been well taught."
They sighed, but nodded after a dreadful pause.
"From the beginning of the aria, then!" Reyer ordered, hurrying to the piano.
Christine gave a very uncertain look to Madame Giry as the first notes played.
"Think of me,
Think of me fondly,
When we've said goodbye."
Her voice broke and she looked as though she might run off, but a bang of Madame Giry's cane chained her to her spot.
"Remember me,
Once in a while,
Please promise me you'll try!"
"Andre, this is doing nothing for my nerves."
"Don't fret, Firmin."
In fact, as her song continued, it seemed that Christine gained confidence and I straightened up as I listened. Well taught, indeed. Her voice was very good now that she finally sung.
Obviously, Andre and Firmin had figured the same thing and soon they congratulated Miss Daaé on the role she had acquired for tonight. I watched her closely as she glowed with pride. A mysterious teacher that brought a shy chorus girl to shining excellence. I didn't believe in chance and especially at the Opéra Populaire, there was no such thing as chance. There only was the Phantom.
"Will you attend the performance?"
I looked up to see Madame Giry eyeing me sceptically. It was a fortune, I thought, that Madame Giry was the ballet mistress here – the dancers would be trained well enough to dance nearly everything I would think up.
"I thought about it, yes. See where there is potential, what we'll be able to do..."
"Pray tell, what made you return to the Opéra Populaire?"
"It's not a what," I admitted softly. "It's a who. Erik asked me to come."
I handed her the note that I had received and watched as she read.
"It seems he was certain you'd say yes."
"Why, who could say no to the Phantom of the Opera?"
She raised a disapproving eyebrow at me. "Have you spoken to him yet?"
"In fact, I haven't," I said, frowning in my own disapproval. It was the least he could do, I thought, to greet me now that I had returned, solely for him.
"Well then, I'm sure he'll contact you once he sees fit."
"I might just take matters into my own hands."
Madame Giry's eyes grew instantly wide in fear. "Please, Amélie – don't seek him out! He doesn't like people coming down-"
"I don't intend to go down," I said calmly. "I intend to visit him in Box Five – tonight, during the performance that he shall certainly attend."
"Amélie, please, he has killed for less!"
"Madame," I said, trying to console her. "He wants me here – why would he kill me, then?"
I'll be grateful for every single review. Just saying ;)
