This is a prologue. It's meant to be short, okay?

Anyway, this FF is dedicated to my friend, Erin. You might have known her on Twitter before she had to deactivate. Her username was LittleLotte32. I cannot believe it took me like 5 months to realize what it meant. If you've seen The Phantom of the Opera, you should know what the "LittleLotte" part means. But I have been talking about this with her for months and I'm finally posting this. I miss all the music talks we had on Twitter. Those were the greatest times. I miss you like tons like everyone else in the RP group. Thank you for starting that group. You deserve this entire FF to be dedicated especially to you.

Also, thank you to Jen (jmpaz13) for inspiring me to upload this thing. Sorry for the long wait, twin.

This FF is based on Franz Lehar's opera "The Merry Widow". More specifically, the Lincoln Center's production of it. Please give it a chance. I worked extremely hard on this.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MERRY WIDOW OR DEGRASSI


Prologue

The ballroom is dark. Moonlight casts a sparkling glow to the room. Alcohol fumes fill the air. Red velvet lines the walls enclosing the room. Grisettes covered in rouge begin their rather enticing can-can dances.

The orchestra begins to play a waltz. Couples quickly join arms and dance. Men twirl their lady under their arm; ladies gracefully swirl in their long dresses.

One couple, however, stands out from all the rest.

The young girl had long, cinnamon hair that was tied up with a silk ribbon. Her eyes sparkled a shade of brilliant blue. Many watched as she chatted with her unusual partner. A mop of chocolate-brown hair covered his smoldering, emerald eyes; there was a prominent smirk upon his features. There was something grand about his presence, yet none could quite pinpoint the reason why. The lady wore a jeweled, golden gown and elbow-length gloves white as fresh snow. Her partner brandished a coal tuxedo and a powder-colored dress shirt.

The man talks with his companion about some matter of importance. Suddenly, he drops down to one knee. Her face lights up like a candle and she nods her head with much excitement. The floor clears, leaving them alone to dance. To them, the whole world seems to have evaporated. Both people are quite content, never wanting to leave the other's embrace.

Elijah Goldsworthy and Clare Edwards had no fears of being engaged that night at Maxim's.


FYI, a "grisette" is the French word for "can-can dancer". Just a fair warning, that word will be coming up quite a bit. Dropping a review wouldn't be terrible. Please and thank you.