"It is with great pride and pleasure that I may welcome Stella Noir, whose voice is more angel than human, to the stage." A woman, with Raven black curly hair that touched her waist stepped out onto stage, clad in a dress that was fit for a queen. The audience went silent, and her beauty radiated from everywhere touching everyone and everything in its path, causing the breath from the audience to be stolen from their lips.
"I was here five years ago-" Her voice was soft and sweet, exactly like any angels would be, and everyone who heard stilled and focused their attention onto the woman on the stage. "And was greatly inspired by a young woman whose name was Christine Date, and this song" she continues and gestures around her but quickly regained her delicate pressure. "Was the first song I heard her sing." The lights dim and a spotlight is put on her, there's a movement in box five, which for many years, even before her first visit to the opera house, has remained empty, only rumors surround it. She puts the thought aside and opens her mouth to sing Think of Me, the same song that inspired her singing career. As she finished her last few words of the song she caught more movement in box five. She made a mental note to herself she'd have to ask someone about box five again and get a direct answer.
"Merci Madameousille Noir. That was very beautiful." She shook his hand and exited the stage. She was greeted by two of her closest friends, Meg, and her mother, Madame Giry. Christine was off in America performing, and she wouldn't be back for a while, but Stella was happy for her, she was living her dream and Raoul was there with her.
"Madame Giry, may I talk to you separately?" She gives her a warm smile.
"Of course, mon enfant." She grabs Stella's hand. "But shall we go somewhere a little more quiet perhaps?" Stella nods and they walk out and into the grand entrance, where the only people who were there were ushers directing people to their seats. They took a seat on the bench.
"I see you're still going by your stage name."
"Oui, I do not like using my real name, it is to me personal, and it should only be for people I know. Like you Madame Giry." She winks at the lady sitting front of her on the bench.
"My dear Estelle, what would I ever do if I lost you?" Her real name Estelle Francis Chantrice.
"I do not know ma mere." Estelle never knew her mother or father, she was orphaned ever since she could remember, but to her surprise and relief, she was taken in and welcomed into a home, a musical home at that. She became perfect on the piano, and excelled at singing, but her voice never took off until six years ago when she started to receive lessons.
"What is it you need to speak to me about?" Estelle looked down to her hands, they were clamy. She had no reason to be nervous, bone at all, but she was. She wrung her hands together.
"I've been told no one is to fill box five." She starts and Madame Giry nods.
"You've been told correct."
"Then why, when I was singing, did I see movement?" Her eyes widened, and then she quickly became defensive.
"You must be imagining things my dear, no one has sat in that box for years."
"And why would that be ma mere?"
"I do not know my dear." She stiffened.
"But, you've worked here all your life, have you not?" She nodded. "Surely you must know something."
"My child, they are but rumors, and you know as well as any other person that rumors only grow."
"Then let me hear of this rumor that you so carefully speak of." The opera had ended and people were filling out and Madame Giry grabbed her hand once more and led her down many hallways before crowds could catch up to them. They came to a room and she shoved Estelle in there.
"We shall talk tomorrow about this so called rumor that you ask of me. Until then, goodnight, my dear." She closed the door and Estelle went to sit down on the blue couch accented with gold.
"Stella?" She abruptly stood up and Monsieur Firmin and Andre walk through the dear with a bundle of flowers and roses in their arms. Not as if her room wasn't filled with enough flowers and chocolates as it was. They close the door behind them, avoiding all the paparazzi.
"You sing like an angel!" Firmin said.
"Absolutely beautiful, are you sure you're human? You're talent is beyond human." Andre said in accordance with him.
"Oh, monsieurs, thank you. But I must assure you that my voice is human, nothing inhuman about it." Her deep red lips formed into an eye touching smile.
"We've decided to host a ball for you." Firmin said, and Andre nodded his head.
"A ball?"
"For all the support and attention you've brought us, yes. We are forever in your debt, so we think you deserve this." Firmin continued.
"Is there anything in particular you would like?" Stella thought about it, she had never in her thirty two years of her life been to masquerade, and oh, how she longed for one.
"Can it be a masquerade ball, I've never been to one, and I think it would be absolutely magical to have one." They both grimaced.
"We haven't had one in three or four years, and the last we had…" Andre trailed off but Firmin stepped forward and grabbed Stella's hands. He stared into her light blue stormy eyes. Her eyes were like sea foam swirling on top of the ocean. Beautiful yet dark and dangerous.
"We had an incident, but that was years ago, and we will be fine. Your wish is our command, it will be a masquerade." She hugged him.
"Thank you." Andre walks out of the room and Firmin follows shortly, but Stella stops him.
"Monsieur, why do you keep box five empty?" Firmin straightens his posture and turns back around to face Stella.
"Ever since we took control of the theater, we have been instructed to keep it empty, one time we didn't, and our star singer before Mrs. Dear, she started croaking like a frog, we've learned to never fill it. It's bad luck simply. Nothing to worry about. Bonnuit, mademoiselle Noir."
"Goodnight." They close the door and she locks it behind them. She walks back over to the couch but catches a white letter sitting on her desk.
Her real name was on beautiful script, and she recognized the writing, it was Christine's. She smiled at it, missing one if her best friends.
My dear Estelle,
I've heard you were going to be here, and I cannot say how excited I am for you. I believe you will enjoy your time here.
I will be returning from the states and will be back Friday, I have so much to tell you. So many amazing things I've experienced, and seen. The people I've met.
I've forgotten til just now, but if weird things start to happen, you must immediately report to Madame Giry, and Monsieur Andre and Firmin. Do not dig into the past, only bad things is what you'll uncover.
I cannot wait to see you my old friend.
Christine.
She folded the letter up and set it back down on her desk.
She pulled her nightwear out and changed into it, and the climbed into bed. As she went to blow the candle out in her room, a rose sat next to the candle. It was bright red with a black bow on it. It was gorgeous. It didn't have a tag or letter with it. Out of all the flowers it was the single rose she liked the most. She felt tired all of a sudden, and she blew out the candle passing the rose from her mind, and falling asleep.