Papa! Papa! Wake up!
Christine jumped up and found herself to be laying on a leather sofa in one of the many sitting rooms of the conservatory. Several of the other women looked up from their books to give her irritated glances.
Her heart was still pounding, and her face had broken out into a cold sweat. Placing a cool hand to her forehead, she let a long sigh. God, how she wished she could let her past go and stop having these nightmares. Her father had been gone for so long, and it was time for her new life to finally begin. Perhaps if he had not filled her mind with so many silly fairy tales, it would have been easier to forget, particularly that accursed Angel of Music story!
Christine began to lay her head on the arm rest again when she realized it was time to meet with Raoul. They had set a date for the wedding in six months, which is when Christine would abandon her musical studies and move into Raoul's large estate on the outside of Paris. Slowly, Christine got up and checked herself in the mirror before heading downstairs to meet with Raoul. She smiled, but her tired brown eyes betrayed all of the emotions inside of her. "Be happy, Christine. Your father would have wanted this life for you. It is time to give up childish dreams of angels." Walking down the carpeted steps, she saw Raoul waiting patiently by the banister, a slight smile upon his face.
"Hello, my beautiful fiancee," he said embracing her. "Well, I told you that I would have a grand engagement present for you, and I did not lie."
"Oh, Raoul. The ring and the dresses were enough! You have given more to me than I could ever have dreamed."
"This next gift cannot be surpassed, though, my love." He sat down and brought her to his side. "As you know, I have been looking for an institution to support. I have always had an interest in the stage arts. That is of course what brought me to you. Well, I have found the perfect place. I am now the new patron of the Paris Opera House! My dear, we shall have tickets to every show whenever we please. With all that I plan to give them, we shan't be refused any request." The Vicomte awaited her reaction.
"You do not know how much this means to me, Raoul," replied Christine, nearly in tears. "I always dreamt of singing there, and this has to be the next best thing. Thank you so much!" She embraced him.
"Come, Christine. Let's go out for dinner. When I meet with the managers next week, I shall take you along." They quickly kissed, and strolled out of the room and into the darkening outside.
Christine gazed up wondrously at the magnificent building. She had been there once when she was very young but had pushed that dreadful day far from her mind. Now, the opera house loomed in front of her in all its splendor, gold plated ornaments decking the outside of the stone walls. She breathed in the smells of the city as Raoul talked to his driver. Imagine! She could go here for play after play, night after night, losing herself in stories of romance and adventure. Perhaps she could even pretend that she was the one on stage.
Raoul took her by the arm, and together they walked in. She looked around the circular room at the thousands of plush red seats awaiting guests and elaborate silver statues lining the walls. Balconies reached up as high as the eye could see, and an enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling. At the front, Christine could make out a grand stage with many people gathered atop of it. Loud music could be heard accompanied by an extremely high pitched soprano voice. "Who is that?" asked Christine, wincing as the woman seemed to scream the words.
Raoul chuckled. "That would be La Carlotta, the lead soprano. Just try to ignore her for she is a bit, shall we say, dramatic." They walked into the large auditorium. Christine sucked in her breath and looked at all of the scenery and costumes. From the signs outside, she knew that they were in the middle of producing Hannibal. Carlotta wore a flamboyant red dress with yellow floral designs that sparkled in the bright lights. Around her the other actors wore matching, though less glamorous, outfits.
"Are you enjoying this, Christine?" asked Raoul softly.
"Very much so. This is the greatest gift I have ever received." She squeezed his hand, and they walked up to the stage. Two men came out to greet them.
"Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin!" exclaimed Raoul. "How are you this fine day? I would like to present to you my fiancee, Christine Daae." Christine offered her hand to each manager, and they each kissed it. She blushed at not being used to being treated with such formality.
"Daae?" wondered Andre aloud. "I know I have heard that name somewhere before."
Before Christine could reply, Raoul quickly cut in. "Christine's father was a famous Swedish violinist. Christine herself is quite the accomplished singer at the conservatory."
"Ahh. Well, it seems you have found yourself a fine bride," replied Andre. "Now, Monsieur. I know I told you that I would give you a tour of the opera house last time, but it has become important that I discuss something with you. Something...private." Andre looked up, as if to make sure someone wasn't listening from above.
"Of course," replied Raoul. "I would be happy to help in any way I possibly could. Christine, you are welcome to sit and watch the rehearsals while I am gone." Christine nodded and sat down in a seat toward the middle of the room. She wondered why the managers had seemed so uneasy but knew it was not her place to ask.
Settling in her seat, she watched as La Carlotta continued to sing. The older woman was talented, but Christine still did not find her voice all too pleasing. Despite the overly dramatic prima donna, though, Christine became entranced with the music, often pretending that she was a part of the story. She watched as the ballerinas came out in revealing outfits and twirled around, apparently acting as slave girls. Then the soldiers appeared and sang the chorus again, their voices filling the room with a pleasant lower range. What she would not give to be up there with them, even if only as a chorus girl.
Just as she was starting to finally get an idea as to what the opera was about, the conductor announced rehearsals to be over. Sighing, Christine watched as the singers and dancers filtered off the stage, mumbling to each other about this and that. No one seemed to notice the timid brunette sitting alone in the middle of the room. All of the lights turned off around her except for a few stage lamps. In the dark silence, she wondered when Raoul would return and what she should do until that time. Getting up from her seat, she slowly sauntered over to the stage, her foot steps echoing in the empty room.
"What would it be like up here?" she wondered, wiping the smooth floor softly with her hand. She looked to see if anyone was watching before lifting herself up onto the stage. Looking down into the empty rows, Christine imagined herself to be the lead singer. Perhaps if she sung quietly, no one would ever hear her. Taking in a deep breath, she picked up a stray piece of music that Carlotta had dropped. The title of the song was "Think of Me." Though it appeared to be a difficult piece with high notes, Christine thought she could sight read it if she concentrated. She cleared her throat.
Think of me, think of fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while.. She sang through it as best she could, arms limply at her sides. Though it sounded slightly off key, she felt some pride at being able to get her voice high enough to reach all of the notes. She knew if she had some professional training she could improve greatly. As Christine approached the end of the song, though, a sudden feeling of apprehension swept over her. She felt as though she were being watched. Her voice tapered off, and she looked around the dark auditorium.
"Hello?" she began meekly. "Is anyone there?" Silence was her only response. "My mind is playing with me," she told herself. "I really must grow up." She began to finish the song, for she really hated to leave such a beautiful piece uncompleted.
She sang the last words with all her soul and hit the notes almost perfectly! Pride filled her pounding heart as she stood there trying to catch her breath. It was at that moment when Christine heard it. Applause. The sound came from only a single set of hands, yet echoed from above and all throughout the auditorium. Christine froze and frantically looked around. At first she saw nothing, but then she made out a flicker of white against one of the dark opera boxes. Squinting, she could also make out the outline of a person.
"Who is up there?" she called out nervously. Though she was slightly afraid, a thrill rushed through her at the thought of being watched in her small moment of glory. Her heart was throbbing even faster than it did when she was performing at the conservatory. The figure above froze, as if debating whether to make its presence known. "Please, tell me who is up there."
"Christine!" a voice behind her caused her to turn around. "What on earth are you doing here in the dark, and who are you talking to?" Raoul asked.
"I...I was just looking at the stage," she replied. "I thought I saw...," she looked up to the box and saw that the patch of white had vanished. "Never mind."
Raoul approached her curiously. "You look like you have seen a ghost. After the conversation I have just had with the managers, I would not be surprised if you did." Raoul sighed, and Christine saw that he looked tired. "I would appreciate it, Christine, if you would not stay in dark areas by yourself. The office is right upstairs, and you can wait for me there the next time you find yourself alone. I am beginning to wonder if my patronage here is such a good idea."
"Why," gasped Christine. "I adore it here!"
"Oh, it is not important. They all seem to believe there is some kind of ghost haunting the opera house. Imagine two grown men actually paying twenty thousand francs to a ghost!"
"What are you talking about?" asked Christine in confusion.
"Never mind that. It is really not important. Let's just get you back home." He lead her out of the building by her ice cold hand. Christine looked back several times to catch a glimpse of her admirer. She didn't see him staring down at her from high above.