I rushed to embrace my father when I got to music class.
"They almost saw my face," I whispered into his chest.
He replied, "How?"
I answered shakily, "Someone bumped me and my mask flew off and Cleo wouldn't give it back and-"
"Cleo? Cleo de Nile?" he interrupted. "Uh-huh," I responded.
"Yes, I see," My father thought. "Well, don't you worry, ma belle enfant, I will have a talk with her after lunchtime. Class will start soon, so I want you to take your seat now, all right?" he asked.
"Yes, Papa," and I pulled away from him and walked with Draculogan to two seats in the front of the class. The bell rung and the rest of the class slowly sat down. I turned around to look at the rest of the class to see who my classmates were. There, sitting in the back row, was Cleo, examining her fingernails and acting more bored than she had ever been.
"All right, class," my father's voice echoed throughout the room, "Welcome to my music class." He grinned and started to write his name on the blackboard. "My name is Mr. le Fantome, but you can call me Mr. F or Opera Ghost, he said with a chuckle. Just then, Cleo whispered something to a girl next to her and the two of them giggled. Papa, still facing the blackboard, projected his voice to the back of the room and whispered, "Are you having fun, girls?" Terrified, the girls shrieked while the rest of the class laughed at their idiocy. They obviously have never met my father, because when you think he is not watching and listening, he is, like a hawk. Ah, my father loved to use his skills in ventriloquism. Whenever I was trying to get something in the kitchen when I was little, he would scare me by casting his voice into the kitchen and he would ask what I was getting into while he would be sitting in the living room, reading the newspaper. When my father turned to face us from the blackboard he looked sorry.
"I know it is the first day of school, class, but I have an important announcement to make. Tryouts for the school's musical, Les Miserables, will be next Wednesday. For any of you who are interested, after school on that day, a few of the teachers and I will be listening to you sing and act for tryouts. Now, here are the scripts. If you aren't interested, just give the scripts back tomorrow after you've looked at them, in perfect condition, please."
I was jumping in my seat from excitement. Les Mis was by far my favorite musical ever. I had memorized the lines ages ago; I had to audition. I really adored Eponine, she was so strong and what she felt for Marius was really heartbreaking, so I would audition as her. I was already prepared, with knowing the entire musical by heart, but my father had given me singing lessons at a very young age. After the lessons, he would always congratulate me and mutter to himself something about a Christine. I wanted to ask but if he said it to himself, then I wasn't meant to hear it. I was snapped out of my reverie when my father spoke up again.
"Draculogan, would you be kind enough to hand out the scripts?"
"Yeah," he replied and got up from his seat. In the back, I heard Cleo say to her friend, "I'm going to try out for Eponine. I'll be a shoo-in." I thought to myself, not on my watch. I looked over to Draculogan, who was handing out the scripts when I saw a girl smile at him coyly and he smiled back. Then, I felt something that could only be described as a knife through my heart. It hurt very badly, and yet I had no idea what it was. The rest of the class went by normally; we sang warm-up songs and figured who was a soprano and who was an alto, discussed what we should sing for the fall music concert. When the bell rang, we all left for lunch. But when I was almost out the door, my father had stopped me.
"I see you have made friends with Draculogan," he said.
I answered, "Yes, he is very nice. He got my mask back from Cleo."
He frowned and replied, "I will talk to her; don't you worry, mon ange."
I hugged him one last time and said," I know you will. I love you."
"I love you too," he responded, and with that I left for lunch.
Author's Note:
I thank all of you who are following my story. Reviews really make me happy, so please review! I don't care if the review is anonymous, JUST DO IT!
I would also like to apologize for not writing in nearly a month. *sings* It's the most horrible time of the year!
Science fair time is almost over, don't worry. Just to let you all know, my experiment is full of suck. I'm putting caffeinated drinks on plants to see if they die.*claps halfheartedly* Yay.
I have also been wondering if the title of my story is stupid. I mean Operetta's first love would be her father, right? If I could change the title, what should I call it? Please leave an answer to my question in the review place… thingy.
I am rambling.
KTHNXBYE