Dreaming the World Away
Set in 1873, Bellisima Dawier has recently left her mother to live with her father, a policeman in a small town of northern France. She is a passionate, intelligent girl who has a love for music and living life to the fullest. Bored with the cushy life she starts with her father,Bella tries out for a job in the newly built opera house, and makes it. What she finds there is a world of secrets, danger, and a love that will never be broken.
This story is based upon Phantom of the Opera and Twilight, and with the extravagance of society known in The Luxe books. The initial idea of how I write this is my creation, thought there are probably many crossovers like this. Bellisima Dawier is based upon the roles of Christine Daae and Isabella Swan, though Bellisima herself is of my own creation.
"You mustn't go, Bella! Marcus and I will be very happy with you living with us!" Renee Swan pleaded to me as I impatiently stared toward the horizon. "Mother, I want to go and live with Father!I'll be fine." I carefully lied and smoothed down my navy traveling skirt.
~I have lived with my scattered-brained mother for as long as I can remember. A society girl when young, she had scandalized everyone by marrying a mere policeman at the tender age of seventeen. The marriage had been a folly of youth for my flighty mother, but when I was born, she sobered down for two years and tried to be happy out of society and as a parent. She couldn't last that way, and when I was three,a divorce came. It is not spoken about much, being so scandalous, but I have lived with her since, just visiting my father the occasional summer. My chosen separation is due because of my mother finally remarrying to a traveling artist. She felt I was too young and fragile to be traveling with him all the time, so she has always stayed with me when he goes abroad. It dawned to me after his first trip that this separation hurts her, so I declared that I must get to really know my father before I became an old maid. He did not object to me coming and staying with him, so I packed my many bags and made my way to the train station to begin my new life.~
A loud chugging noise interrupted my mother's latest argument, and I gratefully turned to her to make my goodbyes. "I'll write, I promise! I love you very much, and no, I won't forget that I am a privileged young lady, and yes, I'll keep safe. Say goodbye to Marcus for me." I answered all of Renee's questions before she spoke them, and quickly hugged her while a worker began to haul my bags into the first class car. Tearing myself away, I boarded the train then snagged a window seat and prepared for the long ride.
"Mlle Dawier,are you awake?" A elderly voice woke me, and I quickly sat up and turned. "I am your chaperon, Mme Yew. We have almost reached your destination." The speaker was a gray-haired woman heavy with jewels. I nodded and wondered when she had arrived upon the train. The rest of the ride was spent in silence as I stared out the window and Mme Yew conversed with another well dressed matron. The train chugged in to a station, and it was announced that this was Fourchette, my stop. "Will you need my assistance and will there be someone waiting for you, Mlle Dawier?" Mme Yew asked, oh so helpfully.
"No, everything has been arranged. Thank you, Mme, for your company." I got up and began to walk toward the trains exit. I truthfully had no idea whether Charles( my father) would be waiting for me, but at least then I could get an hansom cab and explore a bit and break the rules.. A loud shout of "Bella!" ceased all plans I had begun to make, and I saw my father amble toward me. He was now the chief policeman of his small town, and an inheritor of his newly deceased mother's small fortune. Society wouldn't have been so appalled if my mother had married him at the station he is now in, I thought wryly as he pulled me into a light hug, then guided me around and to his carriage.
" Well, aren't you beautiful. You sure have grown, Bella. Its hard to think that the last time I saw you, you were this tall." He gestured to his waist, which I now towered over, and I grimaced. He smiled as he helped me into the carriage, and we set off to his modest manor. We both silently stared out our windows, and I was glad that Charles didn't feel the need to always be talking. Fourchette was very green, I silently noted as we continued on. The trees were covered in a mossy substance, the ground was a dark forest shade, and even the light filtered in through the dense trees seemed to be a silvery green. We approached the road to his home and I sighed as the carriage was pulled to a stop. " You remember your room, right?"I nodded,and he went on to say, "A maid will help you with your things. I am afraid that I must go back to work, I'm sorry, Bells."
"Its okay, Cha-Father. I will just be unpacking and I'm afraid that I am terribly tired. I'd be horrible company right now." I forced out a delicate yawn then tripped up the manor's steps. This way I could explore the grounds without having to worry about Charles finding me. Once inside the house, I immediately turned to the left and headed up the stairs, a manservant following diligently behind with my bags. I opened my door and saw the same room that I had stayed in as a child. The lacy curtains and creamy furniture were all the same, but a woman's vanity had been added and the child's bed replaced with a sleigh bed. I thanked the man, then went over to the largest bag, the most important bag. I unzipped it, then sighed with relief as I pulled out my flute and violin cases. Next came my sheet music and instrument cleaners, then the bag was empty. Putting the instruments in their place of honor by the window, I heard a gentle knock on the door.
I forced myself to look tired,then called, "Come in." A little maid entered with the intentions of emptying my bags. "Oh, you can go. I think I shall just take a nap, and I am a very light sleeper." I quickly dismissed her and she smiled while backing out the door. Quickly, I emptied the bags, and left the dresses that needed hanging up on one side of my huge bed. I stored some of my treasures on a high shelf and placed my silvery music box on the vanity counter top. Sadly, I caught my reflection in the mirror and then grimaced. My tawny, waist-length curls were pinned up, and they shone in the meager light let through the window. My high cheekbones were flushed with excursion since I had been unpacking and lifting the heavy bags, and my full lips were naturally pink and stood out against my ivory face. My silvery-green eyes looked disappointed, and thats just what I felt. I was beautiful, and anytime I looked in the mirror, I saw my mother's high marriage hopes and my father's sad green eyes. Even worse, when people first see me and hear my extravagant name, they assume that I am a graceful, gentle lady, the product of good breeding and a happy marriage. Once they get to know me ,they see my less then lady-like behavior and graceless walk.. I sighed, and slipped out of my dress and changed into a stolen set of trousers. I stuck my curls under a hat, and tip-toed out of my room, heading for the only place where I wasn't a fine lady.
I ended up tripping down the stairs, but luckily, all the servants were else where. "Uh, sneaking is hard when your as coordinated as a newborn foal", I grumbled to myself. Finally, I was outside and walking toward the stables, my favorite place in Fourchette. I let my self in to the empty barn and crept up to Whimsy's stall. Whimsy was a large and dark dappled gray thoroughbred mare, and my all- time favorite horse. Riding was out of the question right now, and besides, I didn't want to get in trouble my first day here, so I contented myself with petting her and relaxing in her stall, letting the sound of her gentle breathing and sweet breath calm me.
When I left the barn, it was dusk. I hurried back to my room unseen, another miracle, and dosed myself with perfume while changing back into my rumpled traveling skirt before ringing for a maid. "Yes, Mlle Dawier?" the little maid answered immediately. "Will my father be home for dinner?" I asked. She nodded, and I motioned for her to come in. She helped me change into a violet colored dress, then left. I came down for dinner at seven, and saw my father sitting at a large table already set with food. "Bellisima, come and sit with me!" Charles ordered and I dutifully went and sat at his left. We ate, then when finished, he said, "Your mother tells me you love music. There is an opera house here in Fourchette, you know. It was finished just last year! I am sure that will be a place of interest for you." He puffed with pride for his developing small town, and I looked up eagerly and smiled. I had actually been wondering what I would do with all my spare time. At home, there was balls and dreadful society events, but in this quiet little town, I was sure there was none of that. "That is good news." I answered, then listened as he told me about his day at work.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I 'll retire for the night." I got up and pecked his forehead, then hurried to the stairs. "Good night!" I heard him call. Once in my room, I headed over to a song book and pulled my violin out. I played a couple songs, then sang some of my scales to keep in shape. I realized Charles would be heading for bed soon ,so I read a bit then drifted of toward an oblivious sleep. When I awoke, I saw the slight maid lighting the fire in my fireplace, so I called out good morning. "Oh, hello and good morning. I hope I didn't wake you!" I shifted under my fine, heavy sheets and smiled encouragingly. "No, I woke of my own accord. I'm sorry, yesterday I didn't introduce myself. My name is Bella Dawier, and I am sixteen years old. What is your name?" She looked shocked, and I continued to smile at her. It was inappropriate of me, but maids usually turned out to be great friends and secret holders., and it wouldn't hurt to have her here to cover for me if I ever got into trouble. "I am Marie Leer and I am fifteen years old." The slight brunette maid finally answered, and my smile was bright as I leaned out of bed. "Can you tell me about Fourchette and my father, please, Marie?" I asked as she poured my glass of morning chocolate. She offered a shy smile and said, "What do you want to know?"
After my first morning, my life settled into a calm and boring pattern. I would rise early and play my instruments and sing till about ten or eleven, then eat and go to the barn and ride Whimsy, usually with the matronly woman my father kept on hand to supervise. I would come back home and sew or read until dinner with Charles, then retire to my room and have the occasional chat with Marie. I sometimes went into town, and would endure the curious stares and greetings from the towns people, while doing the tasks Charles had given me. It seemed that the people of Fourchette were expecting me, and so I talked and met with many a well to do person. After church on Sundays were the quaint visiting calls of the upper class, and while Charles talked to his friends, I was forced to keep company with their flirtatious sons and prissy daughters. My life soon felt useless, and so did I. At home I had been able to provide purpose and means to various things, and here I felt more like a liability and nuisance, only good for shyly smiling at my father's friends' spoiled sons at social gatherings. After two repetitive months, inspiration hit.
"Its quite beautiful there, actually. My sister now works as a seamstress, and my brother as a props maker. It has provided many jobs to the people of Fourchette, thanks to the Cullens ." Marie told me of the Fourchette Opera house. "That is good. Hmm...Cullen, now, that doesn't sound very French." I mused. She had told me about the opera house this morning because of her older sister got a job there. "Thats because it isn't. The Cullens' are from Britain. They came here two years ago and have done many wonderful things for Fourchette since. Dr. Cullen works as the town doctor, and his wife, Esme does many things for charities. Sadly, it still is rumored that Dr. Cullen had the opera house built for the pleasure of his many children as well as for Fourchette, though." She continued while helping me pick out a dress in a sheer peridot color. "He is old, then, for his his children to enjoy opera?" I inquired with a tiny gasp as she began to lace my corset. "Oh no, he is probably in his late twenties or early thirties! He inherited a vast wealth for a relative, and Mrs. Cullen is also wealthy. Supposedly, she cannot have children, so they adopted five youthes from different families as they traveled. They are all very talented and...attractive." I took this knowledge in, but it felt as if Marie were leaving something out. "What are you not telling me, Mar-Mar?" I then questioned, and used her nickname to coax it out. "Well...there is really nothing technically wrong with it, but....some of their children are...together..." I frowned and wondered what she meant, then understanding dawned and I blushed. "Oh.." During this awkward silence while Marie fixed my hair, my brilliant idea suddenly occurred to me. It was what could finally end my boredom and consent presence around the house. "Marie, I've a wonderful idea! Does the opera house take in new singers or ballet girls now?" I quickly pressed. Marie seemed slightly dazed by my sudden topic switch, but she answered, "I should think so. Why?" My huge smile was my only answer, and I called out a goodbye over my shoulder as I ran in a most unladylike way. I rushed out the house before my constant chaperon could argue and into the barn, where I demanded a carriage to be readied immediately. I knew the high from my plan would cease soon as I thought practically, so that was even more reason to be on my way to the opera house.
I ordered the driver to speed to the Fourchette Opera House. He obliged me, and the town soon flashed by and had disappeared when he finally slowed and stopped in front of a grand looking gray building. I thanked the driver then sighed appreciatively as I mounted the huge steps slowly, and smoothed out my light, shimmery green skirt in sudden self-consciousness. I pulled a heavy door open and gasped in delight when I saw the opera house's interior. It was all grand, and gold with statues and marble, and I felt awed. My staring was interrupted when a small blond girl with a beautiful figure asked in surprise, "Mlle Dawier? What brings you to the Opera? Nothing is being preformed till the weekend!" I smirked to myself when I realized she thought me to be a simple en, then I noticed she said my name, and I had never seen her before in my life. "Yes, I know performances aren't till till the weekend, I have come seeking a position in the chorus, Mlle..." She stared at me in amazement, then quickly gushed, "There are some openings, but oh! When I went to the sunny city for a vacation, your name was always in the society pages in the papers, Mlle Bellisima! I cannot believe that I am talking to a you right now! Oh, yes, my name is Meg Giry. I am a dancer here, and my mother is the ballet mistress." Her gushing seemed to calm down, and I was grateful. "Can I audition for a place, then, what do I do?" My brilliant idea of being part of the opera's cast seemed silly now that I was actually here, and having no idea what I was doing. But I knew now that I wanted it badly.
"Oh, you'll do fine! With your looks and name, you'll make it in even if you sing like a frog!" Meg chattered encouragingly to me. I was standing on the side of the stage, waiting for to audition for a part in the opera's chorus. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, one minute I was in the foyer meeting Meg, then suddenly I was handed a piece pf music and waiting for my turn to try out. "Thank you, I think? Its just that I have never sang in front of so many people before..." I said pathetically. The opera was bustling with dancers and singers practicing, costumes being made, props being set up and the sound of tons of different instruments tuning. In truth, I loved it, but wasn't sure if this heaven had room for me. "Okay, then let me distract you. Look to your far left, do you see that man and girl? Thats Dr. Cullen and his daughter, Alice. Alice is one of the lead dancers here, and Dr. Cullen was the one who had the opera house built. Isn't he handsome?" Meg sighed dreamily. I turned and saw a breathtakingly beautiful girl gracefully turn circles whilst on point. Her black hair was short and straight, which was completely on of style, but it just seemed to accentuate her perfect ivory skin and delicate features. On the side of her was an extremely handsome man, like Meg had said. He also had ivory skin, and his hair was a shiny golden blond that complemented his unusual golden eyes and god-like features. "My god."I breathed in astonishment at their perfect beauty. Meg just sighed, then I heard my name being called. I walked onto center stage, very close to the edge so I would be out of the way of the rehearsals. I saw a woman who looked like Meg, but aged by about 20 years, a short fussy-looking man and Dr. Cullen and Alice (to my surprise) seated in the first row . "Ah, Mlle Dawier. We didn't know that you had an interest in music, but still we will be very proud to have such a distinguished name at the Fourchette Opera House." the fussy man spoke, and gentle piano music began to play close enough for me to hear over the roar of the busy theater.
Breath! I reminded myself as I began my little piece. It was a soprano's leading aria, but the try-out part was just the simple beginning. "Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye.." To my horror, I found that I was singing quiet and shakily. No one but the Cullens, Mme Giry and the fussy man were even watching me, I tried to comfort myself. I wanted nothing more then to be a part of this opera house and the way I was singing wasn't fit for even a corner on the street. "When you find, that once again you long to let your heart again be free.." My try-out piece was practically done, and I felt near tears at my mediocre performance. Then I saw him.
His bronze hair shone and his ivory skin was bathed in gold from the huge chandelier's rosy light. His features seemed to be carved from stone and looked as if they belonged to the mythed Greek gods. The way he carried his tall body was elegant and almost like a predator, and my heart raced as I saw him take a seat next to Alice. Still, he had not seen me on the stage. I cannot say why, but I wanted him to stare at me like so many other young men had, I felt as if I needed him to. My try-out piece was supposed to end when I mumbled, "...thought for me" But I didn't stop. All the sudden it seemed as I could finally breathe again, could finally sing like I have before, so I continued with the lead's part confidently. "We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea, but if you could still re-member , stop and think of me.." My voice was now loud enough to be heard over the din of the opera house, and some stopped to stare at me. It didn't matter now, though, because He was watching me with a curious face. "Think of all the things we've shared and seen, don't think about the things which might have been.." I continued to sing, and no one had stopped me for continuing on with the aria, so that must be a good sign, I hoped. I dared another look at the bronze-haired boy, and saw that he was staring at me with a almost hungry look. "Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned.. .Imagine me, trying so hard to put you from my mind!...Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do..there will never be a day when I won't think of you!" The song was nearly over, and I took advantage of the break for music to prepare myself for the end, which seemed quite challenging. Right before I resumed singing, I glanced at him to see a crooked and achingly beautiful smile on his face as he watched me. I caught my breath and sang, "We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea, but please promise me that sometimes, you will think of..." My voice began to soar up and down as I did the vocalizing to reach the final, ". ..me!"
Shocking and thunderous applause erupted as I tripped down the stage, and Dr. Cullen himself addressed me for the first time. " That was quite impressive, Mlle Bellisima! The Fourchette Opera House certainly has a place for you! You should talk to my son Edward, he wrote the piece and has been searching for a soprano like you to sing it for some time." He turned to the beautiful boy and pulled him closer to us. I almost gasped when I saw him close up, he so gorgeous. "Hello" I managed to gasp. He reached over to kiss my hand, as custom, but I tripped a little on my way over to him, and my dress pushed me off balance. My loose hair whirled around my face as I caught my step, and suddenly the boy who was named Edward sharply turned. He looked at me with a suddenly loathsome expression, as if disgusted, the stalked away before I could even blink.