Author's Notice: Yes, yes, I have procrastinated a bit and hope you would all forgive me, I especially like to thank all my reviewers and readers thus far and enjoy my little tale of the affairs of the heart for this growing young lady of fourteen. Things seem nice and mellow now but I stand by with my rating, things will ascend higher into the T fiction, just a friendly warning/reminder for you, my readers. Okay, I have wasted enough hot air. :)
Chapter Nine: In an Hour's Time
She hurried into the backstage and met with the rest of the chorus girls, she was caught in a mixture of confusion and apprehension.
It was the morning after she met Arthur, and he told her that Carlotta would be away for a few days with that two-legged pig. Perhaps he gave her misleading information? Whichever the case, she could at least breathe comfortably knowing that she was on time to her routines and tried to make herself seem as invisible as she could manage.
She need not put so much effort albeit.
The girls themselves could've taken well enough care of her camouflage; the entire chorus was divided into several mini herds. No matter how close Christine would try to shuffle into one of them, they always had their backs turned to her, as though she weren't even good enough to be acknowledged by face. She tried time after time again to try and have them warm up to her, but they usually just stiffly return her kindness and then once more dismiss her from the happy chatter that usually revolved around boys and sex.
She always was careful to make sure she always had a smile on at the least, to show everyone else how perfectly acceptable she felt to being completely isolated. What was it about her? Was it her untamable curly hair? Her thin figure? Her milk-white skin? Almost ever since the beginning of her chorus girl career she had always pondered and speculated what, exactly made her so socially repulsive.
Meg was her only outlet on social happiness, but even then, it still wasn't enough when Meg was invited into those happy, blissfully ignorant little parties of girlish sisterhood.
Christine resumed her place in the corner of the backstage with a sigh and watched idly the smiles, the laughs and the exchange of embraces amongst her fellow chorus girls as Meg stepped into the crowd. She had half of a mind to go up to her and satiate her thirst for company and was moving a leg forward to do so but then cut her step short when she saw Meg immediately absorbed into a coterie of balking girls. They brayed and snorted like mules at a joke Evie, the tallest of that group had said. While trying to entertain herself and catching only scraps of each of the diverse groups' conversations, she only knew that the joke had something about women who "dropped their knees". Christine blushed a bit at the phrase and turned her gaze away from that certain gather, it also fascinated her how freely and openly these girls not much older than she talked so easily of women who gave oral sex to men.
Part of her was grateful she was not accepted and could've been mistaken to be one of these pompous streetwalkers. She remembered hearing rumors about certain members of the chorus girls sneaking over to the other side of the opera house and spending nights with their male counterparts.
Christine forced back a roll of her eyes, such typical teenagers, they were. They were ruled by nothing more than their primal instincts and relying on pure hormonal influence to guide them through their lustful adventures.
Suddenly the once talkative assembly of chorus girls became silent and obedient and assorted themselves in their rightful places, assuming that rehearsal was coming to a start, she followed suit and took her step in her assigned position.
Half-expecting to see Carlotta or perhaps even Madame Giry, Christine merely had her hands folded neatly behind her back as she patiently waited for their instructor to initiate their beginning cue. The familiar voice she heard, however,took her by a heart-stopping surprise and she felt her hands automatically strangle each other's wrist.
"Morning ladies." He said as he stepped to the front of the stage gracefully his hands behind his back wearing simple black suspenders with a long ivory collar undershirt. "My apologies that my darling fiancé will be away for a few days, so I will be your substitute for the time being."
His tone was even and friendly, businesslike even, but the charm couldn't have been masked.
He continued speaking as he waltzed around. "You may address me as Monsieur Danteillo, and it will be a pleasure to get to know and recognize myself better with each and every one of you mature young ladies before me…" At this point he stopped at the line that Christine stood in and recognition shined in his eyes immediately. "…That is, if we haven't already."
His eyes still remained general and nonspecific, but only for as long as an eye-blink his eyes grinned to her before returning to their landscape view.
"Now that we've made ourselves acquainted, let's begin shall we?" He said with a melting grin, his white teeth all the more radiant in the early morning shine.
Christine's eyebrows hunched in confusion, it was only a few days after the last opera disaster and the chorus was still in need to learn the moves and cues for their next opera of which they didn't even know the name of.
Then in astonishment she saw Arthur take his leg up and held it straight up in the air, perfect agility and balance posturing him.
"Repeat." He simply stated.
They continued the process for the remaining of the rehearsal session, doing what he did and being resulted by either his uplifting praise or gentle criticism. Either way, his teaching method was that that had made any session with the Madame or Carlotta seem like military practice.
It was like a refreshing drink of water.
During the brief transitions from one teaching to another, Christine marveled at Arthur's flexibility and undulant grace, it was as if he was like a beautiful siren from one of Joseph Bouquet's twisted fairy tales.
She could watch his enticement all day.
As he wiped at his glossy forehead, Arthur dismissed the chorus girls back to enjoy the rest of their day. Seeing the sunlight, it seemed like around early noon was about, as Christine was beginning to follow Meg back to the dorms she felt a large hand grasp her shoulder.
"Miss Christine, its good to see you again." He said in a charming sort of tone that made the tingling sensation in her stomach return once more.
"Bonjour Monsieur Danteillo." She said politely as she made an excuse from looking at him to bow her head slightly. She tried her best to keep her voice steady and the blush from cremating her cheeks.
He lifted a finger to her chin rose her eyes to meet his own icy blue. "We're both adults, love…" Up close, she could see tiny shards of black embed in that icy iris. His voice was slightly lower and tempting. "You can call me Arthur when we're not engaged in our business, remember?"
She shivered under his finger and leaned slightly away from his beckoning hand. She scolded herself mentally for feeling such a way towards him, he was in his mid twenties when she was fourteen, he was going to be married for lord's sake. She was just being a pig and a love struck fool.
"Yes well," She began as she backed away from him, trying to calm her distempered breath. "It was nice seeing you again Arthur and I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow."
His eyebrows crumpled in concern. "Something wrong, dear?"
"No, sir."
"Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee? I'd happily pay of course."
She stopped in mid-breath; he was just becoming stranger and stranger and her buckling knees weren't helping much to let her stroll away gracefully.
"Pardon?"
"It gets quite a bit boring without much to do, I'd appreciate some—charming company." He smiled at her, pausing for only a brief, hardly noticeable second searching for the right words.
Her heart clogged up in her throat and she felt her mind being constricted around her ears. She felt an unfamiliar pang in her stomach and wondered why suddenly everything felt like a giant carousel.
"Just someone to talk to when I get a bit lonely, I promise I won't occupy most of your day." He assured her with a discreet wink.
She bit that word hard: lonely. She wondered what was his problem; did perhaps Carlotta not give him much attention? Could it be that maybe…?
She felt the once rigid bridge between them smooth out and she swallowed her heart when she smiled at him and nodded slowly and modestly.
"Sure."
She could get lost into that white smile forever, as clean and as milky as the snow itself that nestled outside comfortably in the soft noon light. His eyes slighted in happiness and his crooked lips stretched out in a warm, almost comfortable sort of way as though they had known each other for years.
"Then will I meet you here in an hour's time?"
"Alright."
As she got under a showerhead excitedly and happily scrubbed every part of her energetic body,a happy beat bounced in her feet as she practically skipped back to her dorm. Things were going so wonderfully fast, the high of this sample of the fast life she felt shivered throughout her body in the most fantastic way. She looked through her closet and sorted out looking for her best clothes. Settling on an ivory day gown, she took hold of a velvet blue cloak and arranged her hair in the usual style: curly and voluminous.
She applied only the slightest makeup and sprayed her homemade fragrance of tangerine and rose that she remembered Madame Giry had shown her and Meg to create when they were younger.
She tried to make sure that she looked as simple as she always did and hoped to Gods that Arthur would simply just register her appearance as a simple student consulting with her teacher.
As she fluffed her hair once more and examined herself in her mirror, she frolicked out her dorm completely unaware of the man behind the mirror who had his heart thickened a bit in wondering where she was going that needed her to look so beautiful.
And most of all…who was she going with that made her so happy?
