Chapter 3

Jenny gently unbraided Chrissie's hair. With skilled fingers, she pulled it up and tied it with a blue ribbon. She helped Chrissie into a pale blue dress. Without the corset, Chrissie could actually breathe, but still she took care to remember her fan. Glancing in the mirror as Jenny reapplied some light face paint, she couldn't help but admire the reflection.

"Jenny, you work miracles!"

Jenny beamed. "If you weren't already so pretty, you might not think so."

Chrissie twirled, sending her skirts flying. Her mood had dramatically changed. She skipped out of her room into her mother's.

Christine's maid was putting the finishing touches on Christine's hair.

"Mother, you look lovely." Chrissie smiled.

Christine smiled back. "Thank you, sweetie. You look lovely too. Your dress however, is a few inches short."

Chrissie glanced downwards. The hem of her dress flittered a few inches higher than customary.

"After the reunion is over, we'll go buy you some new dresses." Christine smiled at Little Chrissie. "Not so little anymore." She whispered.

"What was that mother?"

"Oh, never mind dear. It doesn't really matter."


Raoul sat waiting for Christine and Chrissie. Some days it seemed as if they took hours to prepare.

"Raoul, oh my goodness, if it really you?" A woman warmly greeted.

Raoul returned her greeting. "Catherine, it has been too long."

"It has Raoul," She paused. "How is...oh I shouldn't ask. It isn't my place."

"She's better than ever." He smiled. "I expect it has been hard on you? How many years has it been?"

"Fifteen years, I can barley believe it. How time does fly. Soon, we'll be in our graves."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Christine and Chrissie enter the room. "Well, it's been good talking to you; perhaps we can catch up later." They abruptly turned away and walked in opposite directions.

Christine hugged Raoul warmly. She noticed it odd that he almost stiffened. He must be slightly impatient with me. I did take longer than usual.

"Shall we head to the dinning hall before I collapse from hunger?" Raoul joked. Christine laughed and took his arm.

Chrissie felt she was being stared at. She turned and glanced back. Sure enough, a woman in the far corner of the room was staring at her. She looked as if she were middle aged, and was slightly round. Her hair was strikingly blond and almost looked familiar. She tried to recall the woman as she hurriedly followed her parents, but could not.

A sigh escaped her lips. A long drawn out afternoon awaited her.


The afternoon was even duller than Chrissie had imagined. Chrissie sat with her parents in the music room. It seemed as if they never ran out of people to chat with or things to say.

Every now and then a person would turn to speak to her. Chrissie used her society smile to hide her boredom. A few people dared to comment on her appearance, and every time Chrissie's blood would boil.

Finally, Chrissie could take no more.

"Mother I'm feeling slightly ill. Would it be alright if I retire to my room?" Chrissie crossed her fingers behind her back.

"Do you need me to come with you? Do you need to see a doctor? We can still arrange…"

"I think I'll we feel better after a short nap. I can manage on my own." Politely, she curtsied and left.

However, she didn't feel like napping or another quiet activity. Instead, she chose to explore the hallways.

After about twenty minutes of wandering, Chrissie stumbled across the grand stage. Even though most of the room was a black ash color, the stage had been rebuilt after a fire had destroyed it years ago. The stage has been rebuilt for sentimental reasons only. There were no plans to reopen the Opera Populaire and most likely, no one would perform on the stage ever again.

Chrissie walked to the middle of the room. She wondered how the chandelier had fallen out of the ceiling. A huge gap was present in the ceiling, where the chandelier had hung.

Walking closer to the stage, Chrissie noticed how high off the ground it was. A step-stool had been conveniently left over in the corner. She grabbed it and used it to climb up onto the stage.

Once up on the stage, she was awe struck. How frightening it must have been for the performers to perform on the stage in front of so many people.


A bottle shattered against a wall. The pieces of glass fell to the floor, resting upon years of built up filth. The surrounding area was no better. Pig pens were cleaner.

The enraged man paced back in forth. He felt like a caged animal. The isolation was killing him.

Everything had been fine before the reunion. He could hear them, laughing and chatting. It was wrong for them to be so merry, and him so miserable.

"I am not going crazy!" He screamed. His voice echoed throughout the cavern. "I am not going crazy." His heavy breathing slowed. "All I need is a friend. Yes, that's it. A friend. Someone who won't care about my past, present or future. Yes, a friend is what I need." He leaned against a wall. "A friend."