AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Hello again! Sorry it took so long, but as I explained in my Pirates fic, I've been dealing with college classes, and it kinda took a while. Anyhow, it'll take a while to get the next chapter out, as classes start in a few weeks. So enjoy this while you can!
You can show me how much you enjoy it by leaving me reviews! Hint, hint.
Chapter 2
The next few days came and went, leaving Celeste what felt like mere seconds to learn her music. Even as she sat onstage on Thursday morning, waiting for the rest of the cast to show up, she felt confused, frustrated, and incompetent. Usually, by now, she'd have a grasp of what exactly was going on in the music, but this time was different. Never before had she heard such complicated rhythms or intricate chords. After hours of trying to figure out just the first fifteen measures of her first aria, Celeste grew to deeply despise the author of the opera, judging that he could only be a genius or an absolute idiot.
Celeste was pulled from her thoughts as the managers began to stride up the steps to the stage. They looked very disgruntled, trying desperately to hide it under plastered smiles. Celeste noticed a crumpled piece of parchment sticking out of Monsieur Firmin's coat pocket. Almost as if he knew she was looking, he stuffed the parchment as deep into his pocket as it would go. He nudged André inconspicuously in the ribs and, on cue, André's quivery voice boomed out as the other actors filed onstage.
"Attention, all! Before we begin our daily warm-ups and run-throughs, I'd like to introduce our newest addition, Mademoiselle Celeste Moreaux!"
He indicated Celeste and the others applauded unenthusiastically. Celeste waved nervously at the crowd and André cleared his throat. "Mademoiselle Moreaux will be taking the place of our lead soprano. I think I speak on behalf of the entire company when I say we wish her the best of luck and the best of safety."
Celeste was the only one that laughed. The company stared at her disapprovingly before turning their attention back to André. He cleared his throat again and continued speaking. "Now, we've got a lot of ground to cover today, so if you will please give your attention to Madame Giry..."
He indicated the woman in the black frock that Celeste spoke with the day of her interview. She strode swiftly to André's side and knocked her cane on the hardwood floor of the stage. "Good morning everyone." She said, supporting her upper-torso with intense strength. "I require my girls to line up downstage for exercises, and if you will, Mademoiselle Moreaux, join them--"
Madame Giry assigned everyone in the company a position of practice, much to the disdain of the managers. They tried many times to interject, but to no avail. Once everyone was bustling about to warm-up their voices or their muscles, Celeste made her way downstage. The tiny bodies of the corp de ballet was pirouetting and touching their noses to their knees. Celeste began to panic. She'd only done a little bit of ballet growing up, and never anything as extensive as what she was witnessing. A gasp of panic came from her lips before Madame Giry glided to her side, hovering over her.
"It's nice to see you once again, Mademoiselle. I'd like to say that it'd would be in your best interests to warm-up with my girls before we begin your routine," she said, leading Celeste over to the group.
Celeste frowned. "I apologize, Madame, but...I've never done ballet before. I don't even own a pair of slippers."
Madame Giry's eyes bulged and she pursed her lips. "That is a tragedy, my dear. However, it will not exempt you from practice. Your role requires a demanding routine and it will take weeks for your body to get into shape. Let me see your feet."
Celeste was puzzled. She clumsily pulled off her shoes and lifted her leg onto the bar nearby. Madame Giry leaned over to inspect, getting much too close for comfort. Celeste tried to stay still, even when her arches were being poked and prodded. Giry made a 'hmph' and stood straight again. "It's as I thought. You appear to my Meg's size. Until a pair has been made for you, you may borrow her old pair. Meg!"
Kate removed her leg from the bar and massaged her now aching leg muscles. A petite blonde girl shuffled over to them, curtsying to Celeste. Madame Giry stood taller and straighter than ever and looked down at the girl. "Mademoiselle Moreaux has need of your spare ballet slippers. Hurry, run to your dorm and fetch them. Move!"
Meg nodded and smiled brightly to Celeste before rushing out to the housing annex. Madame Giry huffed importantly and turned back to Celeste. "I must help the other girls practice. When Meg returns, she will help you lace the slippers and show you how to tie them on properly. She will also run you through the normal exercises. When that's finishes, you two may join the group and we will learn the routine."
Madame Giry nodded once and whirled off to the other girls. Celeste watched intently, making the smallest movements to copy them. This isn't exactly how she expected to spend the morning. Her music was far more important than some dance. How was she supposed to practice if she didn't even understand it? She bit her lip and watched the other girls. They were fortunate that they only had dancing to worry about.
Celeste saw Meg hurrying over to her, a worn pair of pinkish-white ballet slippers dangling from her hands. She stopped when she reached Celeste, panting and out of breath. Celeste took the shoes from her and smiled. "Thank you, Meg. I'm Celeste."
Meg looked up and returned the smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Celeste," she said. "Come, sit down and I'll show you how to put these wicked fiends on..."
The two sat on the floor and Meg unlaced her own slippers to demonstrate. Celeste slipped them onto her feet. She noticed that even though they were worn, they were also very stiff and constrictive. Meg pulled the ribbons tight, and Celeste followed suit. She winced, feeling as though the shoes were trying to swallow her feet. As Meg laced the slippers and tied them, Celeste did the same. Meg stood and indicated that Celeste should do the same. Celeste gasped when she landed on her feet and she was certain the shoes were cutting of the circulation. Meg ignored this and began stretching, and Celeste tried to imitate her. Her muscles ached and burned before the end of the first two exercises, and the torment went on for another twenty minutes.
When Celeste was thoroughly exhausted, the girls joined the rest of the corp de ballet. Meg stepped in line and began her dance. Madame Giry grabbed Celeste's arm and pulled her aside. "I hope your warm-up went well, Mademoiselle. How do you like the shoes?"
Celeste chose not to lie to this woman, and instead nodded her answer. "Good." Madame Giry said. "Well, you've stretched, so we'll begin your routine immediately. Now, for the first few bars of the aria you'll remain still. And then at measure 16, I believe, you'll begin with this." She moved majestically, humming the beats as she danced. She stopped and motioned that Celeste should now do the same. Celeste uneasily attempted the movements, feeling very humiliated. The girls began to giggle and Madame Giry pounded her cane on the floor to regain order.
"Not even close, my dear. Here, I'll do it with you, and pay attention this time." She began to move again, stopping every now and then so Celeste could catch up. They went through the routine several times, and whenever they reached a particularly complicated part, Madame Giry would step behind her and place her hands on Celeste's arms or hips and move them appropriately.
Soon enough, Celeste had caught on and doing her routine on her own. Madame Giry smiled politely and held a hand up to stop her practice. "Lovely, dear. Now, continue to work on that until the managers need you, and we'll go over the rest of the segments tomorrow."
Celeste's eyes became as large as dinner plates and her mouth dropped. "There's more than this?!" she cried.
Madame Giry looked shocked, as if that was the most ignorant question she'd ever been asked. "Of course, dear. But don't worry. There are only 6 more like it." Celeste watched in horror as Madame Giry retreated, seriousness etched over her face. As she began her practice again, Celeste prayed that the managers would call her over to warm up her voice instead.
Unfortunately for her, that didn't happen at this practice, and Celeste spent the remaining three hours of rehearsal perfecting her routine. At long last, Messieurs Firmin, André, and Madame Giry stood upstage and cleared their throats (or in Madame Giry's case, thudded her cane against the floor).
"Well done, everyone!" Firmin exclaimed. "We will resume rehearsals on Monday! Also, we'd like to remind you that the Annual Fundraising Ball is two Wednesdays from next, so have your costumes ready! Use this three day rest time to finish them, and we'll see you all on Monday morning, 10 AM sharp! You're dismissed."
The company scattered off in different directions, going about their business. Celeste limped off backstage towards her dressing room, and Meg caught up with her. "I'm sorry about the shoes. But you'll get used to them after a while."
Celeste nodded, wincing up the stairs. "I'm sure I will. Thanks again for letting me borrow them. Would you like to come in? I've had no one to talk to since I arrived, and I'd love some company."
Meg smiled and followed up the steps inside Celeste's dressing room. Celeste plopped down in front of the vanity and Meg took a look around. She'd not been in this room since 'the incident,' as the girls called it. So much had changed...the walls were once a rich green with gold trim, and now it was covered in a deep blue with brass trim. Meg shook her head sadly. "He must have changed it. It probably reminded him of her..." Meg mumbled.
Celeste looked over at her, confused. "Who did?"
Meg snapped out of her reverie and smiled. "Nothing. I was just muttering to myself. So, how long do you plan to be with us?" she asked, sitting on the chaise.
Celeste eased the ballet slippers off her feet. "As long as I'm needed, I expect. I suppose that could be years. But that'd be wonderful, at least I'd be employed."
Meg nodded her agreement, her eyes flickering to the mirror. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could detect a familiar presence behind it...perhaps it was just paranoia. Celeste began brushing her hair and wrapped it in a tight bun as Meg began to speak. "I'm surprised you took the post here. All the others were afraid." she squeaked, solemnity washing over her features.
A laugh came from Celeste and she went behind her screen to change. "Oh, not because of that Opera Ghost nonsense?" she giggled, throwing her dress over the top and reaching for a dressing gown. "Honestly, that's no reason to turn down an opportunity at one of the worlds grandest opera houses."
Celeste giggled again, and Meg looked to the mirror with pleading eyes. "Well, I suppose they have good reason to be frightened. I can't blame them. I was here when the ordeal took place."
With the dressing gown now donned, Celeste returned from behind her screen, a bewildered expression on her face. "Meg, not you too! You're a sensible young woman, surely you don't believe in ghosts!"
Meg tried to protest, her attention fixed on the mirror. "Well, no...and yes. But I was there, I witnessed it, I--" Meg sighed and shook her head. "Nevermind." Meg stood and walked calmly over to Celeste. "Just...try to be careful. I really like you, Celeste, and I think we could be good friends. Don't give anyone any reason to hurt you. Please." Meg patted Celeste's shoulder and the shrill cry of "Meg!!" rang through the backstage area, alerting everyone that Madame Giry was looking for her daughter. Celeste grinned at Meg as she padded out of the room to meet her mother. Once she was alone, she closed the door, sighing. Was she the only person in this building who wasn't afraid of some spooky ghost story? And why was Meg so fascinated with her mirror?
Celeste put on her soft and comfortable slippers, standing in front of the mirror. She stared at her reflection for several minutes, every now and again reaching up to fix her hair or remove a splotch of sweat from her brow. And then, almost unnoticeably, Celeste thought she saw something else in the mirror, something behind it. For a split second, Celeste saw a man, dressed in the finest dress clothes she'd ever seen. He was glaring at her from behind a white mask...
Celeste cried out in surprise, stepping away from the glass. She shook her head and looked up again. All she saw was her reflection. Bemused, she eased herself into the chaise that Meg had just vacated. She wanted to sleep, to forget about the chaos of the day's events. She wanted to relax and sew something, or knit something. Anything to get her mind off the tiring measures the afternoon had brought her...and what she thought she jus saw.
Unfortunately, the entity behind her mirror had other plans.
"Tsk tsk tsk. Lazy and easily tiresome. Not at all unlike your predecessor," a disembodied voice said. "We'll soon correct that."