A night at the opera was just what the inspector needed. Something to temporarily relieve the stress that went along with his occupation. Taking such excellent care of Paris was quite demanding, you know. Adjusting his bowtie for the fifth or sixth time that night, the inspector strode into the Palais Garnier. Looking around, he saw several familiar faces, as any good inspector would. However, on this particular date, he wasn't too keen on speaking with any of them. "La Traviata" was one of his favorite operas, and he was certainly looking forward to seeing it, as it had been quite some time since he last saw it. He hastily made the journey to his box and settled in to watch the opera.
The curtain rose upon Act 1, and there was immediately something about the performance that caught his eye. It certainly wasn't the prima donna—that vile Carlotta creature could drop off the face of the earth, for all he cared. Could it be the orchestra, perhaps? No, there was nothing special about the orchestra…Ah, there it was! There was a chorus girl. A chorus girl! The inspector himself was rather confused as to why she was the one who stuck out. It wasn't until the second or third act that he realized what it was. It was passion. She put passion into everything she did, although she played such a minor role.
Once the opera had ended, the inspector found himself backstage, searching for the chorus girl who seemed to brighten up the entire performance. Carlotta, of course, was getting a majority of the attention, which the inspector was none too happy about. After a good amount of pushing and shoving, he finally spotted her, with her back turned to him. He hesitated a moment before reaching out and gently tapping her shoulder.
"Mademoiselle?" Upon closer examination, she had eyes as blue as the Seine and hair more golden than the heavens above. The inspector found her breathtakingly beautiful. Her eyes lit up with surprise, but she replied in a very calm, collected manner.
"Yes?" He stumbled over his words uncharacteristically before taking a breath and starting over. "Your…your performance was fantastic, mademoiselle." Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink.
"Merci, monsieur."
He cleared his throat and adjusted his bowtie yet again before introducing himself. "Forgive me, miss, it seems I've forgotten to introduce myself. Inspector Grégoire Javert." He took her hand gently and pressed his lips to the back of it. He noticed that her cheeks remained that same, light shade of pink as he did so.
"Christine Daaé. It's a pleasure to meet you, Inspector."
"The pleasure's all mine, Miss Daaé." A small smile made its way onto his face. She stole a quick glance over her shoulder as the rest of the chorus girls retreated to the dormitories, and gave him an apologetic look.
"I really should be going, Inspector. Perhaps I'll see you after another performance?" The words had barely escaped her lips, and he was nodding enthusiastically.
"Yes, of course." She gave him a small (but very sincere) smile before hurrying off to catch up with the other chorus girls. The inspector stood still for a moment, taking in all that had just happened. He then headed to the front of the Garnier, his mind set on attending the next performance.