"Good morning, sleepy head!" Christine groaned at Liliana's perversely cheery voice. It would take more than two weeks for Christine to become used to Liliana's optimistic morning greetings. Even after years in the opera business, Christine had never been a morning person.
"Five more minutes?" Christine pleaded rolling over and pulling the covers over her face. It had been a nice change to sleep in a real bed despite having to share a room with all of the other chorus girls.
"Rehearsal is in half an hour. Signora Vincelli will have our heads if we aren't there on time." Christine groaned again and sat up.
"I'd rather face a rampaging boar!" Christine exclaimed. Liliana giggled and the other chorus girls glanced at them quizzically. Liliana and a few others were advanced enough to understand the language in which they sang, but most of the chorus girls spoke only Venetian. Christine was trying to learn the strange dialect, but it was slow work. She managed along as best she could with Liliana's help.
Christine dressed in a hurry and walked to breakfast with Liliana. They chatted quietly on the way and Christine was disgusted as always to see- and smell- that the denizens of the Opera Venezia were already as pathetically drunk as the occupants of the Opéra Populaire probably would be at that time. Laundresses and costumers had begun their work for the day hours before Christine had woken. The stage hands who weren't otherwise engaged in antagonizing the entire opera house rushed about carrying props. As Liliana and Christine passed by the quarters given to the opera stars, ballet mistress, and conductor Christine heard Ana-Maria Espiña yelling about something. The opera star Ana-Maria reminded Christine of Carlotta, and not in a good way.
"The premiere of Aida is only a week away," Liliana chattered excitedly as they scampered through the passageways, "Lydia's fallen very ill, so it looks as though they'll need someone else to play the high priestess." Lydia was the understudy to Ana-Maria.
"Why don't they just have one of the advanced girls who are taking private lessons with Signora Vincelli do it? It's hardly a role that some random person could sing, but there are some people here who could do it. Perhaps they'll put you in the role" Christine left it unsaid that the role of high priestess actually took the ability to sing, a quality that was not found in most chorus girls. After coming from the Opéra Populaire, Christine had not been too impressed by the quality of the singing or dancing found at the Opera Venezia.
"I was thinking that Signora Vincelli might agree to have you sing it. I'm a better dancer than I am a singer, but your singing is simply sublime." Christine was stunned for a moment. The last time Christine had been forced to stand in for a missing person it had ended with her in the Phantom's lair.
"Signora Vincelli will never agree; I'm still too thin to be given a major role in anything." They'd managed to get Christine's hair into a presentable state, but she still remained dreadfully thin. Christine didn't like to think too much about the way her life had gone over the past few months. She sighed when she remembered it had only been a year before that she had been preparing to star in Don Juan.
"That's the beauty of it!" exclaimed Liliana, "It's an offstage role, but it will put your voice on display wonderfully. If the right people are listening, then it could launch your career. I know that Signora Vincelli was impressed with your voice and that she will agree."
The pair rounded another corner into the dining hall. As they stood in line waiting for their portion of porridge they gossiped and chattered away. They continued to receive odd glances because of the language they conversed in, but for the most part blended in with the crowd. They sat at their usual table with Liliana's friends among the advanced opera students. Normally they didn't fraternize with chorus girls, but they had allowed Christine into their group once they'd seen how well she could sing.
As Christine scraped the last of her porridge from her bowl, Signora Vincelli's familiar voice said something rapidly in Venetian. Due to the similarities between Tuscan and Venetian, Christine was able to discern the gist of the message to be that the dancers were to go to rehearsal. Christine's guesses were confirmed when Liliana and the others stood up and deposited their bowls in the stacks of dirty plates and utensils. They walked down the hall to the sound of talking and laughing. The Opera Venezia's production of Aida was to be the Venice premiere, so it was imperative that everything that everything was perfect.
Signora Vincelli said something else and Liliana whispered, "Our Aida is still abed, so we will begin with Act 1, Scene 2." Christine nodded and stepped back. She was not in that scene, but it was a beautiful dance so she lingered to see it. As the music began Liliana stepped forward and began to dance her solo. Christine hated to think it, but Liliana would give Meg a run for her money. She leapt and twirled as though she was simply part of the music. Her body twisted and swayed like a bird's in the air and she was sure in every movement.
Other dancers came in after a few bars. At the point where the High Priestess was meant to sing her solo, Signora Vincelli waved to signal a stop. Something was shouted in Venetian and everyone began whispering in hushed tones. Liliana rushed forwards to Signora Vincelli and began frantically whispering in her ear. Suddenly, the woman beckoned Christine over.
"Signorina Ferrelli claims that you are able to sing the part of the High Priestess, Signorina Giry," said Signora Vincelli in Tuscan "Is this statement correct?" Liliana smiled slightly at Christine.
"It is, Signora," Christine replied. The situation might have been all too reminiscent of what had happened in Paris, but Christine couldn't bring herself to disappoint Liliana.
"Let us hear you sing the," Signora Vincelli said. She barked something in Venetian to the dancers. Immediately, the music began at Liliana's solo. Christine could not bring herself to pay attention to the beautiful dance this time because she was so nervous.
Calm, Christine told herself, last time I was the star; this time I'll just be doing a minor role off-stage. The music piqued and Christine began singing the first few trembling bars. As she gained confidence the memories came back to her:
The music wrapped around her as she sang Think of Me. It seemed to erase everything except for Christine and the music. Everyone at the opera stood transfixed as Christine's voice soared and plummeted through the song. Suddenly, the music changed and Christine was back below the opera house journeying through the secret passages and catacombs to the Phantom's lair. Now it was his song that wrapped around. The barely-concealing fabric of Christine's clothing stuck to her damp skin. He looked into her eyes and Christine saw such longing there that she was afraid. Once again, the scene changed and Christine was wrapped in the Phantom's arm singing Point of No Return. His arms wrapped around her, feeling her, breathing in the scent of her. Against her better judgement, she sank back into his arms wanting to be with him. She would stay with him, do whatever he willed of her, and give herself completely up to him.
"Christine, Christine! Please wake up!" Christine opened her eyes. She was safe at the Opera Venezia in her bed. Liliana hovered over her and sweat covered the blankets. How had she gotten back to her bed?
"I'm awake," Christine mumbled, "What happened?"
"You were singing and then you collapsed. We brought you back here and you started screaming about someone called 'The Phantom'. Who is it? What happened, Christine, which makes you so afraid? Let me help you." Christine blinked. Whatever happened, Christine could never tell anyone of the Phantom, The Angel in Hell.
"It's fine, Liliana. I'm feeling better already," Christine lied, "Just a spell. Please don't worry about me."
"Of course," Liliana replied, but her eyes said otherwise. Liliana now had reason to suspect that all was not as it seemed. She would ask questions now, questions that Christine could not, could never, answer.
Fabricio moved through the marketplace as gracefully as a cat. Erik was back at the shop with the apprentices and it was not a completely unwelcome change to be rid of the surly man. Erik was an excellent mask maker, but his personality was distant at best. He seemed to be angry at the world for some untold injustice.
"Fabricio!" exclaimed a familiar feminine voice. Fabricio turned to see Liliana Ferrelli striding towards him through the sea of people, "It's been ages since I've seen you last!" She was standing next to him by that point. He kissed her cheeks in greeting.
"I have been busy. A new man has come to work for my father and it has been my job to look after him. He's not an especially agreeable man, but he carves masks that fit a person's face like a glove."
"You too?" Liliana asked, "There's been a new woman at the ballet, a Christine Giry. She's a wonderful singer, but she's so sad all the time. Poor dear doesn't speak a lick of Venetian. I feel as though she's got some story that I don't know, but maybe that's just me being a romantic fool as usual." The name Christine sparked interest in Fabricio. Hadn't Erik mentioned a Christine? The last name Giry also rang a bell but Fabrizio couldn't quite remember where he'd heard it before.
"I swear I've heard the name Giry before, she doesn't happen to be from Paris does she? It's only that Erik, the new man, mentioned that he used to know someone called Christine there. She seemed very important to him." Christine was a common name, but surely for both of them to show up in Venice was no mere coincidence.
"My Lord!" exclaimed Liliana, "Christine said she'd come here after her husband kicked her out. You don't think…?"
"I don't believe that Erik was married. I suppose I could ask, but-"
"No," Liliana interrupted, "Christine was so upset when she spoke of her past life. I don't want to trouble her with it. You and I shall investigate, but I'm sure nothing shall come of it." Fabricio knew that she wouldn't want to investigate if she was sure of that, but he didn't voice his feelings. Erik had seemed so horribly sad when he'd spoken of Christine. Perhaps Fabricio could understand him better if the pair looked into this.
"Of course, Liliana, but I must get on now. There will be no meat tonight if I do not sell enough masks." Liliana chuckled softly. She knew that Fabricio's family was rich enough that they could eat meat with every meal of the day including breakfast if they so desired.
"Wait," she said, "I want to buy a mask for darling Christine. She's never been to a Venetian Carnival before, so she won't have a mask. Poor dear, I wish there was something I could do to lift whatever burden she's carrying off her chest. Let me just grab the money." She began fumbling with the strings of her belt pouch.
"No charge," Fabrizio told her, "I still owe you for those theatre tickets. I think I know just the mask for her. Swing by the store sometime this week and I'll give it to you."
"You are too kind," she said blushing red, "but I really must get on now."
"I as well," Fabrizio said, "I promised Father that I'd be home for the noon meal."
"Until we meet again," she said gaily,
"Until we meet again!" he responded enthusiastically sweeping into a bow, grabbing her hand, and raising it to where his lips would have been had he not been wearing a mask, "You must come for dinner soon," he suggested.
"I'd like that," she replied blushing more. She curtsied and ran off through the throngs of people pushing through the markets. Fabrizio watched after her with a silent wish in his eyes until he too turned around determined to get on with his work. It was then that he realized where he'd heard the name Giry before, Erik's own lips. It appeared that the situation was about to get more complicated than it already was.
Hello! Thanks for reading my story. Just to clear things up, this story is almost completely based off the movie because I do not own the book. Reviews are encouraged and help me feel inspired to write. I love your criticism!