The real funs coming soon, I swear.
I hope you all enjoy this next chapter :D all feedback appreciated.
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Jocelyn opened her eyes slowly, her mind a blurry haze as she glanced at her surroundings. She was still in her office; her head resting against her desk, papers covered in her own drool. How embarrassing. Straightening up she shook her head, trying to grasp her senses. Despite how long she had been sleeping; she still felt exhausted, restless even. Her dreams seemed to have been haunted tonight. She could remember a voice, she could remember singing. As if someone was singing in her head all night long; even now the song was stuck within her mind. A simple, unfamiliar tune fronted with a deep, spectacular voice. A voice filled with intense emotion; intense pain; intense sadness.
If only someone had a voice like that. If she could find someone to sing like that. Her opera would be a huge success.
Her opera.
Perhaps she shouldn`t call it that. After all, it wasn`t her opera; but his. Anxiously, Jocelyn glanced at the opened letter that sat on her desk; proving the phantom wasn`t just some dream. If only it was a dream.
"Mademoiselle Kain." Pierres voice cut into the room, and slowly he opened the offices door, "I`ve finalized the casting! You should come meet them, they`re all... wait, have you been here all night?"
"Maybe. What time is it?"
"2p.m. madam." On that note Jocelyn stood up, walking over to him before heading out into the main halls. The man followed, "We are ready to begin rehearsals for Carmen."
"Fantastic." Jocelyn forced enthusiasm into her voice, "Is that an opera?"
"Yes, it is." Pierre sported an amused smile as she began leading him down the hall.
"Do you live around here Pierre?"
The man was silent for a moment before answering simply; "I do. Why do you ask?"
"All your life? Have you lived here all your life?"
"Yes, I grew up here, but why does it matter?"
"Do you know about this opera house? It`s history."
"Mademoiselle Kain please." Pierre stopped following, his movements coming to a halt, "I will gladly entertain your questions, but just tell me why you want to know?"
Jocelyn looked at him with a sense of uncertainty. The right thing to do would be to tell the truth. Her father always strived on honesty, reminding her again and again how important it was. But in this situation what good is honesty. She didn`t know this man well, heck she met him three days ago. Would he really believe her if she told him the place was haunted? No, he wouldn`t. And why should he? They`re complete strangers, he has no reason to trust her word. No reason to trust her.
In all honesty, she wouldn`t believe it herself if she hadn`t seen the ghost first-hand.
"I own the place, don`t I?" Jocelyn rolled her eyes, gesturing for him to follow as she made her way down the grand staircase, "It only makes sense that I should know everything about this place."
Pierre was silent for another moment before sighing, "Very true. Well let`s see, the building was opened when my great grand-father was alive. It was a huge success for a long time, but then some murders happened, it became a place of crime. It shut down shortly after."
"Murders?" Jocelyn faked surprise.
"A phantom, at least that`s what I`ve heard. Mum used to tell me stories at night, trying to scare me to sleep." He gave a short chuckle, "They were very creative stories. She described him as a love-torn, kindred spirit."
"Did she... know him?"
"No, no, of course not. The opera was closed down way before she was born. But her mother had told her stories about it, they were passed down the generations so to speak. Honestly everyone in this city, everyone with family going way back know the stories."
"So everyone knows the opera house is haunted?"
"Haunted? Heavens no madam. We just know that a few crimes were committed here a century ago. But you know people back in the old day, any strange thing is an act of god to them. A simple murder is taken as the doing of a ghost? Nonsense."
"Yeah, nonsense." Jocelyn exhaled sharply before trotting down the stairs, coming to a stop at the bottom. The entrance to the theatre was to her left. "So, you wanna show me that cast now?"
Pierre grinned, opening his mouth to speak when he was suddenly cut off.
"Mademoiselle!"
Turning, the pair locked gazes on a short, chubby man. He was dressed rather formally, in a dark suit, the black colour contrasting with his graying hair. His expression was cheerful as he moved to face them.
"Joseph, Joseph Monte." The man introduced himself kindly, extending his hand to Jocelyn politely. Not knowing what else to do, Jocelyn shook it. He had a firm handshake. "You must be the esteemed Miss Jocelyn Kain."
Esteemed?
"Yes, and um... can I help with you something?"
"Oh, of course, of course." The man smiled widely, "Ever heard of the Monte Ace Club?"
"A gentlemen's group, only the wealthiest and most powerful families in France are members." Pierre answered. Jocelyn for one had never heard of it, but considering Pierre's explanation, she nodded in understanding.
"Ah, glad to see we`re not completely disregarded." The man's smile only grew wider, if that was possible, "You see I own that club. As a matter of fact, my family has been hosting it since the Monte`s came to France. And believe it or not, it used to be a tradition for the club to host marvelous parties here in this very opera house. If you look into it, you`ll learn that there were grand, masquerade balls held here every Christmas. The Monte club funded them."
"Is that true Pierre?" Jocelyn glanced at him and he only shrugged.
"I assure you it is." Mister Monte insisted, "you can research it yourself later, but I swear you will only find it to be true."
"Well that`s all very nice, but I don`t understand what exactly you want me to do about it?" Jocelyn replied, trying her best to be polite.
"Well Christmas is right around the corner." Christmas was actually still a month away, but Jocelyn let him continue regardless, "I was hoping, now that the opera house has been re-opened, that we honor this tradition. I would like you to host a masquerade ball here for my club, of course I`ll provide all the funding. In return I`m sure you can make preparations by Christmas time, no?"
Jocelyn didn`t even take the time to think before answering; "I`m afraid that`s impossible."
There were far too many kinks to work out, this opera house wasn`t ready for any parties yet. Heck she hadn`t even hosted her first opera yet, how the hell was she supposed to pull off an upper-class party? Plus there`s a ghost wandering around. A damn ghost. The money was tempting, the idea fantastic, but the timing. The timing wasn`t right.
"But if you`d like, I`ll gladly host this part of yours next year." she suggested, "It`s just that this place isn`t ready for anything too big yet. A month isn`t enough time to prep it. I`m really sorry."
And just like that the man's smile disappeared, a confused frown taking its place; "come now there must be some way to convince you. This is a tradition, you know, I`m sure there`s some price we can agree on..."
"I`m sorry but-"
Suddenly the lights flickered, the room temperature dropping. While Pierre and the man showed their surprise, Jocelyn stayed neutral. Considering this was the fourth time, Jocelyn was used to it. Groaning she glanced around, searching for her obsessively annoying phantom.
"I see what you mean, this place clearly needs work..." the man mumbled quietly.
"It`s not that bad." Pierre shrugged.
"As I was saying, I don`t think we can-" and once again Jocelyn was interrupted as the lights flickered. This time though, she caught on. It seems the building wasn`t too fond of her declining the offer. It seemed as if someone had a different plan in mind. Forcing a more thoughtful face, Jocelyn changed her tone; "You know what... I think you`re right. It is traditional, and I can tell it`s important. Perhaps if I double my efforts, and we can come to the right price."
Just like that, the mans smile returned.
x
Madamoiselle Kain,
I am quite fond of the Monte Ace Club. I remember their parties well, for I have watched them play out from a distance before. I even attended once. They are a cherished part of the Opera Populaires history. A cherished part of my history. I would like you to make all the preparations necessary for such a ball, for I shall be attending.
Now then, onto the casting. At the moment I have few complaints. The lead alto, that man; Mousier Lucas Trentadue. He is weak. His vocals are pale in comparison to Miss Sylvie. There is a certain balance between voices that is necessary to reach musical perfection. You lack that. For now I shall tolerate Mister Trentadue. But, if we are to progress we will need to replace him as soon as possible.
Nothing disappoints me more than wasted talent. And if you keep that man, you are wasting Miss Sylvies talents. And I won`t allow that.
Oh, one other thing. You ask many questions in regards to my opera house. I appreciate your interest in this building, but do be cautious. Some secrets are best kept... secret.
OG.
Gulping, Jocelyn put the letter down. This stupid ghost was going to be the end of her. She actually liked Mister Trentadue, he sounded fantastic in her opinion. But the ghost had a point, compared to Miss Sylvie; he was nothing.
There was one thing that bothered her though.
The ghost knew she was asking questions. Was he watching her? Could he be watching her now? That creep. Suspiciously, Jocelyn glanced around. The door was locked, there were no windows; she was alone in her office. He couldn`t possibly be watching her now. Then again he was a ghost. How much did he know? Was he aware of the news paper she had in her hand right now? The content on the newspaper was extremely old; a printed clipping from ages ago. On it was an article, depicting all that happened in the early days of the Opera Populaire.
Nervously, Jocelyn began to read it. Not stopping until things began making sense.
Apparently back in the year 1870, in this very opera house; a murder was committed. Then another and another and another. The murderer was a man, one that hid within the opera house, only coming out to do his dark bidding. He sent letters... letters to his managers, instructing them on what to do. His downfall was a girl, a girl he fell in love with, one Miss Christine Daae. The man got away after burning down the opera house, somehow disappearing from within his secret hideout below the building.
That man, though no real name was given to him, was called the Phantom of the Opera.
That man was alive centuries ago. Even if he survived the fire, he should`ve died long ago. How the hell was he here? How the hell was he still breathing? Unless he`s 150 years old, he shouldn`t be here. Unless... unless he really is dead. Unless he really is a ghost.
For a moment, Jocelyn felt real fear as she placed the newspaper down.
No, wait. Not fear, not terror, not dread. This feeling, this feeling wasn`t fear, it was sadness.
How tragic. This man, this spirit was still here. Was he trapped? Caged to his place of torment? His downfall his own heart? A murderer yes, but what type of man could he have been? Why would anyone spend their lives inside the basements of an opera house? And even now, even after death he was still hiding here. Tragic, simply tragic.
Standing up, Jocelyn allowed her eyes to glaze over the newspaper.
The man, when he was alive, hid underneath the opera house. The newspaper article mentioned something about a mirror, how a passage behind it led the phantoms pursuers to his lair. A mirror, hmm?
Jocelyn had an idea.
Calmly, the girl placed the paper down, heading towards her office door before pulling it open. Once again she made her way down the hall, this time turning the corner to where the dressing rooms were. She didn`t stop until she came face to face with a large, dirty mirror. It was the same room the phantom had disappeared in earlier; the same room that was yet to be renovated.
Hesitantly Jocelyn extended her hands, giving the sides of the mirror a hard tug.
It didn`t budge.
For a moment she was frozen. Then sanity returned to her mind. Slowly she withdrew, backing up anxiously as she looked around herself. What the hell was wrong with her? She just read some crazy shit about a murderous ghost and what does she do? She goes looking for him? Honestly she couldn`t tell what was more stupid. The attempt to find him, or the fact that she actually believed all that nonsense about secret passages and evil lairs.
Besides, what would she do if she found him? Say 'Oh, hi, don`t mind me, I`m just snooping around. Thought we could have a little chat, how about some tea? I hear you`ve killed a few people, gosh there must be a story there, please do tell?'
Nonsense.
The ghost would probably just kill her for intruding.
Wait, would he? She did run his opera after all, the only reason it`s open is because she bought it. If he killed her it would be closed again... so he would spare her right? Then again he was a cold-blooded murderer, god knows what he`d do. A spirit hidden behind a mask. A mask... what type of face was he hiding behind it? The article mentioned disfigurements, but to what extent? Curiosity was practically eating her alive as she stared at the mirror.
And then there was this connection. This strange, intriguing pull she felt. As if something powerful was begging her to come closer, as if some unseen god was taunting her to take a chance. Jocelyn didn`t know it then, but that was fate calling her.
Gritting her teeth, Jocelyn bent down to pick up an old, dusty candle stand. It was lying flatly beside the dresser. Just another forgotten treasure. For a second the girl considered her choices, going over her decision multiple times before giving in. Tightening her grip on the candle stand, Jocelyn pulled it back before slamming it into the mirror. The glass, weakened from the decades, shattered with ease; revealing a dark, daunting hallway.
The candle stand dropped to the ground with a thud, and Jocelyn took a step forward.
Fate was calling, and she was ready to answer.
