REVIEWS GREATLY APPRECIATED
Christine's POV
The remaining weeks passed by quickly, without word from Erik. I had worried myself for the next few days, almost wearing through the corner of my dress that I kept rubbing between my fingers in concern. I tried going through the notes and finding something offensive; I tried going over our few conversations in my mind, but nothing occurred to stand out. Finally I gave up trying to figure it out and took comfort in the fact that the organ still played at night.
I stood on stage next to a pretty blonde and a dark haired girl, wringing my hands and tapping my foot in anxiety. The blonde girl noticed my nervousness and smiled kindly at me.
"You don't have to worry, the managers are" she paused. "Well, they're not the best at deciding who performs, so Monsieur Raer will be auditioning the singers and Madame Giry will be auditioning the dancers." She said Madame's name slower than the rest of her sentence, as though she wasn't used to calling her by her title.
"My name's Meg Giry by the way," she said, holding out her hand.
"Christine Daaé." I said quietly, still overcome with nerves, not bothering to take her hand.
Her eyes widened and she cocked her head. "You're the daughter of that violinist? My mother used to take me to see him on free nights. They were friends you know."
I nodded, but didn't much pay attention. She saw my anxiety once again and decided not to hassle me anymore. Her hand patted my back. "You'll do fine," she whispered enthusiastically and drifted away to find another ballerina.
It was a few minutes until they called my name after a couple of ballerinas had taken their turn. I breathed in deeply through my nose and let it out, walking on and taking position center stage. Madame Giry's face wasn't as kind as I remember. Though the encouragement was there, her mouth and eyes were twisted in a calculating way, so as to pick out any and every mistake.
I tried. I tried so hard to do every turn right, every step on beat to the music, but none of it felt accurate. I felt as though I was stumbling around on stage making a fool of myself in front of all these perfect dancers. When the last note of the song echoed around the theatre, I held my breath, though my lungs begged for air after the strong routine.
Madame's eyebrow rose. "It'll be some work, but there's potential in there, Christine Daaé, I can see it."
I searched for some lie, for some false note in her voice to tip me off about fraudulence, but none presented themselves. It was truly a genuine statement. I smiled, curtsied rather awkwardly, and exited stage, trying to avoid the bustle of all of the awaiting people. Snickers could be heard as I passed and I tried to ignore them, concentrate on my path back downstairs. Somewhere in the wave of people, Meg was at my side, congratulating me. I nodded, listening for a few moments, but left at the first opportunity.
I wanted to go somewhere quiet. Somewhere where no one would be there to bother me.
I trekked down to my quarters, wanting to do nothing but bury my face in a pillow and escape the red heat that was crawling up my cheeks.
Erik's POV
Why was she not auditioning for a vocal part was all I could thing about as Christine danced to the main number for Hannibal. With the amount of potential her voice had, I had assumed she would at least try out for a minor lead, but she instead stumbled through the corps' part.
I could not lie, she wasn't a great dancer, or a good one for that matter, but she did honestly try. Madame Giry, I could tell, was contemplating on what to say, but when I heard the words come out of her mouth I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Why did she try to sugar coat such things? When I watched Christine barrel through the snickering sea of ballerinas, I took my leave, intent on setting things straight.
I made my way through the maze of tunnels that aided me in getting around the theatre faster and got to Christine's rooms before she did. Not knowing how much time I'd have, I quickly pulled out a piece of parchment and scribbled the first note in months to her.
You're a horrible dancer. I wrote, not sugar coating it like Madame Giry had. There was no point in useless lies.
I sat behind the mirror and waited for Christine to come back, just to make sure she would not take my comment the wrong way. I waited a while longer, but after a few more minutes, I'd decided that maybe she'd gotten sidetracked and decided to leave.
On my descent back down, I hear one of the alarms to my traps going off somewhat close. I sighed, not in the mood to deal with anyone, and changed my path to the alarm, taking my time getting there.
Upon getting to the trap, I found it to be the torture chamber. I smirked. Whoever got stuck in here would not think on coming near again. Being trapped in the sweltering heat would cure anyone of their curiosity.
Opening the panel in the wall that led to the room, I braced myself for the change from the cool air to the vivid heat. Curled up against a mirror, a woman sat unconscious, passed out from the heat. Easier for me to deal with, I thought.
As I approached, the features of the woman became more prominent and my heart started to beat faster. No, I tried to tell myself. I willed my feet to go faster, but their tempo didn't increase any faster than the previous speed.
I picked up Christine and carried her out of the chamber. Dry tear marks marred her cheeks and she was burning up as we came within reach of her rooms. I placed her on the bed and put a cool compact on her head, attempting to stifle her temperature. She shivered and unconsciously grasped for blankets that were at her feet. I pulled them up to her shoulders and left to retrieve some medical supplies from the lair.
After giving Christine the medicines, I sat behind the mirror and waited for any signs of her improvement. I could only hope now that she got better soon.
At that thought, I questioned myself. I knew with how strong of drugs I gave her that she would recover within a fortnight at most. Still I couldn't help the guilt that flooded my chest when I thought that, had she stayed in the chamber any longer, she would have suffered far more than she did now. The thought of such an innocent girl getting hurt at my expense made me flinch and my heart start working at double rate. I may be many things, but I'm not heartless.
I got up and walked around the maze of tunnels in order to calm my frenzied heart rate. Still I questioned myself. I've never cared so much even for people who probably deserve it most.
You just want to preserve her voice, a voice in my head told me.
Not true, I shot back, she's as close a friend I've ever had. I sadly thought about how we weren't so very close at all, but yet the fact was true.
You have Nadir, the voice said. I scoffed.
The man is more intent on critiquing me than being my friend.
Whatever you say…
GO AWAY. I thought.
Within seconds the irritating voice retreated into silence. As I walked, I wondered on what the voice said. Was I really just attempting to preserve her voice to get rid of Carlotta? Then I thought of all the things running through my head as I carried the girl to her room. How I wouldn't have anyone to 'talk' to if she left. Even when I knew she would not die, I still feared.
When I got back to Christine's quarters, she was sitting on her bed writing in an old journal and blinking away tears. Her cheeks still were a heated pink with fever.
"Christine." I said quietly, not meaning to scare her.
She looked up and wiped away tears. "Am I really that horrible a dancer?"
"You just got stuck in blistering heat and you're asking about that?" I asked disbelievingly.
She said nothing.
"You are a horrible dancer." I repeated in an indifferent voice. "But you have an extraordinary voice." Her pen paused on the page. "Exquisite in tone and shape, in fact, in almost every detail. But it is obviously untrained." I paused, thinking if I would do this or not.
"Without training, your voice, though beautiful, will never reach the heights for which I know it is destined. If you will allow me, I can help you, but there is one condition. I have never taken on any students, nor have I ever wanted to. But if you do choose to be under my guidance, I implore you to be tolerant as I am not a very patient man, and I will attempt to be patient as well."
She looked around, half expecting to see me. Slowly she started to nod her head.
"Yes, Erik, I would like that." She said timidly.
"Good then, we shall start tomorrow." With that, I left.
