Christine sat at the end of a long hall waiting for her chance to audition. She glanced at the ten other girls there, all of them chatting happily to one another, many of them exclaiming how nervous they were, or how long they had rehearsed their pieces with their famous vocal teachers. Christine sat at the far end of the hall shaking slightly out of nerves. She so felt out of place. She had never studied with anybody who was notable in the opera world, and quite frankly was amazed that she was even here.
"Who Christine?"
Christine jolted at the sound of her name. At first she thought that it was her turn to audition, however she was sadly mistaken.
"Yes, the pale girl with the curly hair, Christine," a girl with long blonde hair whispered,
"I heard that the person who was her judge for the secondary stage was none other than her uncle," the blonde girl said with relish and not bothering to keep her voice down.
"NO," exclaimed a skinny girl with slightly pinched features.
"Yes, quite frankly it's just not fair. I mean there are plenty of girls with more talent than her. My mother even said that she doesn't even have a proper coach."
"O Britta, does it even matter, I mean you are obviously going to make it the fourth generation of your family to attend the conservatory," another girl said quite sarcastically. Christine vaguely remembered she was called Kathryn.
"Well I certainly hope to make it so," replied Britta, oblivious to the sarcasm of Kathryn's comment.
Christine hid her face in shame. She was so sick of the rumors that had followed her all through this process. The worst part of it was that they were true. Her uncle had been her auditioner for the secondary part of the competition, and before that it had been her choral instructor.
The auditions to get into the conservatory were extremely competitive. First you had to have a superb letter of recommendation by one of your instructors, next you had to audition before a primary judge. After that some 40 girls and 40 boys where invited to the secondary auditions, and after that fifteen girls and fifteen boys where allowed to audition at the conservatory itself.
Christine had attended an all girls private school since she was ten. The school was a wonderful performing arts school for ages ten to fifteen years old. Her father was a famous violinist and wanted only the best for his little girl. Christine had grown up happily and by the time she was fourteen people were already whispering that she could be the next great prima dona. However everything had changed when she was fifteen and her father died while abroad. Ever since then it seemed that the happy, carefree, and immensely talented Christine was gone. She faded into herself hardly ever speaking to anyone and never letting any of her emotions show, because all it allotted to was pain.
Her voice, though never what it had used to be was still quite good, a beautiful soprano that was clear as the morning drew. The choral teacher at the school had given Christine an impeccable letter of recommendation, mostly because she had known her most of her life, and knew that perhaps Christine's former talent would again immerge. It was simply an amazing stroke of luck that her teacher had been picked at random to be a primary judge… or was it?
Christine shook her head slightly in an attempt to rid herself of her doubts. She stood up and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her skin was whiter than normal out of nerves, and there were dark circles under her deep green eyes from lack of sleep. She had her hair in an elaborate bun, or at least she thought it was until she had seen how the other girls had styled their hair, and even now her curls were escaping.
Again doubts trickled into her mind. Perhaps her uncle had passed her to the next level in order to make up for not attending her father's funeral, or maybe for not ever bothering to visit his young niece for seventeen years, even though he was well placed among the ranks of the powerful and was one of the main benefactors for the conservatory. Why was she even here?
"CHRISTINE DAAE," shouted a voice down the hallway.
Christine jumped a foot in the air, whiled around and managed to smash the mirror that she had been staring into.
"What… Oh I'm so sorry," she stuttered and began to frantically pick up the pieces of glass cutting her hand in the process.
"You know they've called your name 3 times now," Britta said coolly.
"Just let it be girl," said the lady who had called her name.
Christine nodded and quickly retrieved her music for the audition, but forgot that her hand was bleeding until she picked up her pieces, when she realized that she was getting blood on the music she dropped it so quickly that the carefully organized music flew everywhere.
"For goodness sakes child," said the lady.
Christine grabbed at the pieces and began to hurriedly put them back into order. When she finally entered the dark antechamber to the audition hall she felt like a complete mess, and to make matters worse her nerves appeared to find a whole new level so that her knees began to shake.
"Wait here a moment you can warm up for a little. I'll come for you, when its time."
Christine nodded her assent.
Behind the darkened sets that framed the antechamber of the audition room sat Erik. His intelligent eyes watching this thin ivory girl nearly collapse from nerves. After a few moments though she got up and began a simple warm up. At first she was shaky with nerves, but soon gained confidence in the fact that she was alone with her music, and progressively her voice changed. It was subtle to be sure and not yet fully formed, but there was something there, a kind of power that was the embodiment of the girl's soul. Erik had heard this kind of voice before, but it was very rare, and he knew right then that this girl would be his pupil.
Chapter 2 the audition
Christine was finally called into the main audition hall which proved to be something of a mini-theater. Plush blue fabric adorned the stage and beautiful deep wood bathed the floor. Ballet bars lined the walls, and tables where spread out where the audience would have sat in a normal theater; however this one obviously doubled as a class room. There were only four chairs in the room, and that's where Christine's eyes stopped.
There sat four elderly judges. The first one was a surly looking woman with iron gray hair and piercing blue eyes. The second was a portly man with a walrus mustache that covered a thin mouth. Next to him was a thin anxious man who was currently reading over Christine's audition papers. The last woman Christine knew was Md. Giry, the founder and head of the Conservatory.
"I believe you have prepared four arias, correct," said the woman in the first chair.
Christine could not move. Her limbs were jammed and her mouth slightly open. Another part of her told her how ridiculous she looked, but her body remained in lock down.
"Is that correct," the woman repeated.
Again all Christine could do was stand there breathing heavily and her hands shaking violently.
"Answer," said a voice gently from behind her.
Christine jumped slightly, but the voice had reawakened her body.
"Yes Madame," she heard herself say.
"We have looked at the pieces and wish you to sing, Virgine tu toa amor."
"Yes Madame," Christine replied only now noticing a fine grand piano, and an accompanist sitting stage left.
Christine approached center stage; her legs began to shake underneath her dress and she only dimly realized that the pianist had begun the intro to her song. Christine tore her eyes away from the judges, and began to sing.
Erik listened intently to Christine's audition. He was frustrated to find that the girl had moved completely within herself exposing no emotion except nervousness, indeed he was worried that she might faint. She might not have even spoken had it not been from his prompting. What had caused this girl who possessed a true gift attempt to hide it? Nerves certainly had some play, but Erik thought that there was more than that. Her eyes carried a sorrow that was deep, and she seemed bewildered? No it was more like lost, almost like she was only half in this world.
Erik continued to ponder these thoughts, throughout the rest of Christine's audition, however more pressing matters entered the forefront of his thought.
How was he going to convince Madame Giry, to admit this girl? Her audition was so so at best. Her aria was accurate, but lacked interpretation. Her sight reading was superb, but it was almost mechanical instead of musical. He sighed, how was he going to show her that Christine belonged at the Conservatory? He decided to wait and be watchful, perhaps an opportunity would present itself.
"Thank you I think that's all we need, we'll let you know our final selection tomorrow," said Md. Giry.
Christine could not believe the audition was over; she just nodded, and left the sage. What on earth was wrong with her? This was probably her only shot of ever getting the proper instruction to become an opera singer, a dream that her father and herself had shared since she was old enough to sing. Was it really her dream, or just her father's? No, she decided. The truth was that she loved to sing. Music brought her into another world beyond reality, beyond any emotion except that of the song. But when was the last time she had ever felt that way about music? Not since he died, she knew. She had tried, but every time she had come close, her father's face would appear in her memory, and she would break down. Music was something that her father and she had shared, could there be music without her father?
Christine was just about to enter the hallway again when she stopped. She couldn't face those girls again, especially with the audition she had just had. She glanced around and saw another doorway. She didn't know where it led; all she knew was that she could not go back into that hallway. She slipped inside the door. It was probably used to get across the building without having to go on stage and disturb the classes she thought. It was very dark and painted all in black as most back stage areas where. She turned another corner and found a small chapel lit by a few candles to honor loved ones. Reverently, Christine walked over and lit a candle for her father, and walked slowly back. She stopped and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. She pulled her hair out of the bun that was already falling apart, and wiped off the little makeup she had applied. It was then when it hit her that she had lost the two loves that were most important in her life, her father and her music.
"I'm sorry father I have failed," she whispered to the small flickering candle, and with that began to cry softly in the dim light.
Chapter 3
"Yes I agree with you," Md. Giry said for what felt like the hundredth time that night, "Britta, Kathryn, Nicole, and Chloe, are all obvious choices for the Conservatory, but we do not have an obvious candidate it is the fifth position."
"What about Danielle?" suggested Md. Vigger.
"No, her tone is no where near where we need it to be, and her sight reading was deplorable," said M. Andre wirily rubbing his eyebrows.
"Well show me a girl who had an excellent sight reading tryout besides those four," she snapped back.
M. Webber riffled through the papers, "Christine Daae, did very well."
"Which one was she?" asked M. Andre, likewise looking through his papers.
"The girl who was shaking the whole time," scoffed Md. Vigger.
"Yes," mumbled M. Webber glancing at her audition packet, "She has an excellent letter of recommendation, and her father was a famous violinist."
"What does that matter? She did not perform well at all, her aria lacked any sort of emotion, unless you include nerves," retorted Md. Vigger.
"Nerves can be cured," he muttered.
"Come on now nerves are probably the least of her problems," replied M. Andre.
"Exactly my point."
"But she does seem a moldable sort," said Webber.
At that both Andre and Vigger glared at him. Md. Giry decided it was time to intervene.
"Look at us, we've gone over each of the remaining girls just like this, and all we end up doing is arguing. Let's take an hour recess and reconvene then."
Everybody left the room muttering to themselves, and she suspected that they would continue to argue with each other once out of hearing range. She sighed if they weren't the very best teachers and judges of the voice she would probably have fired them just because they were so insufferable during audition selection. However, they right to argue this year she thought. They normally had five girls that easily stood out from the pack, but this year it seemed that there were more wealthy and influential young ladies than those with actual talent. She made a mental note to be more selective of her judges for next year. She absently flipped through the audition papers, and stopped at Mlle. Daae. The judges seemed right about her. She was excellent technically, but lacked in almost everything else.
"She's the one," said a quiet, but powerful voice.
Md. Giry jumped, and turned to see a man quietly sitting in the shadows. He was a tall powerful man with intelligent features. While half of his face emanated with cool intelligence, a smooth white mask concealed the other half.
"How long have you been sitting there?" asked Md. Giry.
"Long enough."
She just shook her head.
"What do you mean she's the one?" She said sitting down. When Erik chose to speak it was never a small matter that he wished to discuss.
"Christine Daae, she's the girl for the last spot," he replied.
"What?" she said, slightly bewildered, "you want her to come here? Erik did you watch her audition?"
"Yes," he replied simply.
It was just like him not to elaborate, "Fine then, why then do you think that she should come here."
"Because I wish to instruct her."
Of all the replies she had expected it was not this. Erik had never yet taken on a student of his own accord. Occasionally, she had convinced him to give a couple of lessons to top students, but he had always done this reluctantly. However, even with only a few of Erik's lessons the students he had taught had all become some of the most renowned singers in the Conservatory's great history. Erik in fact almost never participated in any of the Conservatory's events, or at least not to her knowledge. Other than composing for the Opera at the end of the year Erik kept to himself and his music.
"Erik," said Md. Giry tenuously, "may I ask why you wish to teach her?"
Anger briefly crossed his face, but then he sighed and replied, "she has the gift."
She stared at him, "Erik I don't have a clue what you are talking about, she doesn't have what it takes to come here."
Now he was angry, he jumped up and started pacing.
"Isn't it enough that I wish to teach her," Erik snarled.
"Quite frankly, it doesn't Erik," said Md. Giry equally angry now. "You have never shown interest in teaching any of the students here no matter how much talent they possess. Now you have the nerve to tell me that you have found a pupil that you believe is worthy of your instruction, which the finest voice instructors in Europe found to be incompetent! Forgive me Erik if I have misgivings concerning your motives," shouted Md. Giry.
For a moment she thought that she had gone to far, but again Erik surprised her.
"How can I convince you then," he said almost pleadingly.
She was so dumb founded at the thought of Erik asking her something that she just stared.
"Well!" shouted Erik abruptly returning to his old self.
"I… I don't know, you have to convince me and the other judges."
"You and the other judges meet in the back of the audition hall in fifteen minutes," interrupted Erik urgently, and left as suddenly as he had came.
"Damn him," muttered Md. Giry, and in spite of herself went to find the other judges.
Christine didn't know how long she sat there crying, but it hardly seemed to matter. She doubted that anyone would miss her, in fact they probably would be happy to not see her there at all. She continued to sob, but as her sobs started to dye away she became dimly aware of a soft voice singing, but it was more than just singing. It was music for her very soul, and it washed away her sorrow and invited her to sing as well. The music engulfed her until there was nothing left but the song.
Suddenly the music began to dim, Christine couldn't bear the fact of having to return to her sorrow so she began to follow the music. She really didn't know where she was going all she knew was that she had to listen and be apart of this music. She was running now attempting frantically to keep up with the music. When she stopped she realized that she was on stage. Christine looked frantically around for the source of the music, but could see nobody.
"Sing and I will sing again for you," said a soft voice.
Christine could not fathom where this strange voice was coming from. It seemed to surround her rather than come from any particular position.
"Who… Who are you," stammered Christine.
"Sing, I can help you," replied the voice.
Christine began searched her memory and began to sing a soft beautiful aria that her father ad taught her. For a moment Christine felt that she would cry as this memory entered her thoughts, but as suddenly as it entered her mind it was wiped away, for the voice had begun to sing with her.
Christine had never sung as she did at that moment. Every sorrow, no every thought was wiped away by the sound of her own voice, she didn't know when the strange voice stopped singing with her, but it hardly seemed to matter. Nothing in the world mattered right now. Such was her elation in the music that when the final note sounded, she broke down in joyful tears.
Her trance was broken by the sound of applause at the back of the dark auditorium. Md. Giry and the other judges stepped forward into a small pool of light.
"Well my dear," said Md. Giry, "Welcome to the conservatory."
Chapter 4
Christine was overwhelmed, as quickly as her impromptu audition ended she was swept away to be enrolled in the conservatory. The three judges other than Madame Giry, were speaking animatedly to each other, occasionally throwing a question her way, but never pausing long enough for her to answer. Which was just as well because at the moment her mind was else where. She drifted in and out of focus as if she were only half in this world.
The music which had touched her soul still danced in her mind, causing the outside world to dim, and pull her into a light trance. At that moment she was under control of the music, wandering between the realms of the physical and another.
Madam Giry watched Christine. She swayed back and forth the as she walked and her skin glowed white. Erik what have you done? She thought. Her couleges babbled on ceaselessly and it was beginning to add to her headache.
"That's enough," she snapped, "Judges meet me back in my chambers, "Christine," the girl glanced up vaguely, "Christine I will escort you to your new room," she said gently.
"But Madame Giry, she needs to be officially enrolled. We need to orient her and schedule her classes," said a stern Madame Vigger.
"That can wait until tomorrow, and I'm sure her guardian will take care of the paper work."
Before Md. Vigger could reply Md. Giry steered Christine down the hall.
"Child, are you all right," she asked Christine concernedly.
"I am better than I have been in a long time," the girl replied with such calmness it surprised her.
She seemed to be coming to now, her eyes where less distant, and she seemed to be attempting to sort out all that had happened to her.
"Child, I need to know what happened to you after your audition."
"I… I don't remember. I was in a chapel and there was music inside me. I was running. Oh… that voice it was so beautiful, it made me forget everything."
She paused in remembrance.
"It was wonderful and so powerful. I didn't feel like myself, I was only a median for the music," she sighed and placed a shaky hand on her brow, "I don't think words are enough to explain what a felt."
"Well sleep for now, don't worry about tomorrow, take it to rest," unsuccessfully hiding her concern.
"I'll be fine, I think, I just need to sleep. I feel so tired all of a sudden."
"All right then, good night."
Md. Giry closed the door, and left the small room. What Christine had spoke of had both alarmed her and saddened her. She didn't really understand why she felt sorrow, but the girl had aura about her that was sad. In fact, she realized that was why her aria had been so beautiful. It had been a sad song set to a minor key, but the girl seemed to release the sorrow of the song and convey it to the room.
She shook her head again, attempting to break the spell of sorrow that the girl seemed to have placed on her. She needed to meet with this girl's escort, and speak with the judges. She walked quickly down the stone corridor toward her office, in which she began to hear voices. She entered serenely, and was greeted by a stern woman who was obviously Christine's Guardian.
"Greetings, you bring me tidings of my charge I presume."
She had a brusque manner, stern, and carried an air of authority uncommon to most women.
"Yes, I do. My name is Madame Giry, and your name is?"
"You may call me Madame DeLore. Now I want to know were Christine is," said M. DeLore in a matter-a-fact tone.
"She is sleeping, I'm afraid the audition caused her a large amount of stress, and she needed to rest."
"I understand, may I fetch her in the morning then?" She said gathering her handbag and coat.
"Madame, I do not think you understand, Christine is to be enrolled at the conservatory," said a rather ruffled looking Md. Vigger, clearly this Md. DeLore had proven to be a worthy adversary for the steal of Md. Vigger.
"What do you mean? You've already told me that she is spending the night."
"No Madame she has been chosen by our panel to be a student at our school," replied Md. Giry calmly.
Madame DeLore stared evenly into Md. Giry's eyes.
"You are serious," she said sitting down again and looking rather misty eyed into the fire.
"Quite," replied Md. Vigger stiffly.
"But this cannot be so."
"It is, I am quite happy to tell you so," piped M. Andre certain now that he wouldn't have to meet the eyes of steely woman, "She has a great gift that we can hone to.."
But he was cut off, "No she cannot join the conservatory, do you understand that she is seventeen? She needs to be thinking of marriage not some illusion of becoming an Opera star. If she stays here it is more likely that she would become some chorus girl, without even the option of marrying well. You people are obviously trying to break away at the girl's inheritance, by giving her the illusion of grandeur, when in fact we all know that it is unlikely that she amount to anything in the Opera world. Now if you would please excuse me I had best be leaving, I will come and collect Christine in the morning. Good night!" With that the woman stormed out of the room leaving all present wide-eyed with shock.
"Well," said M. Webber, who had up until that point remained silent, "that didn't go as we anticipated."
"No, indeed," replied Md. Giry as she watched the woman hail for her driver outside the window. She watched silently as a figure riding a dark horse follow the carriage out of the courtyard. "However, I think that we shall see her again."
"Why would you draw that conclusion," said a bitter Md. Vigger, "that woman appeared quite finite in her decision."
"Because that girl Christine has a gift, and here is the only place that she will ever be able to awaken it," murmured Md. Giry still staring out of the window. That and an Angel of Music has taken to watching over her, she thought as she watched the dark horse disappear into the night.