Disclaimer: No, I don't own the Phantom of the Opera, in any of its various forms. I do own the Island of Dance, though, which is obvious because it stinks.
A/N: Mission- Finish writing the stupid operetta. Objective- write the least number of lyrics possible and add in more character feelings. I realized that the previous chapter was very boring because it was a totally different story that in no way related to my phic. So I'm going to try to make it more interesting. Let me know how I did….
Chapter Nine
"I am Lyssia…a poor island girl who's about to get abused in ten thousand ways," Chelsea muttered to herself.
"What are you doing?" Belle asked, appearing beside her.
"I'm trying to get back into character," Chelsea said, her eyes shut tight. "I have to be Lyssia, not just pretend to be her. I must get back into character…oh, this isn't working."
"Break a leg, Chelsea," James called, patting Chelsea on the shoulder as he walked by.
"That worked," Belle giggled as Chelsea's eyes snapped open and a silly grin appeared on her face.
"Shut up!" Chelsea grumbled, giving her friend a shove.
Belle shoved her back. "Save it for the fight scene, will you?"
"CURTAIN CALL!" The two girls jumped.
"Meg needs to pipe down," Chelsea groaned. "In the past four weeks she's taken over just about every aspect of this opera house!"
"Except the orchestra," Belle reminded her. "The only thing Monsieur Reyer was able to keep."
"He'd better keep it under lock and key," Chelsea chuckled. "Before long it'll be a victim of the Wrath of-"
"I SAID CURTAIN CALL!" Meg swept by the two girls, catching Chelsea by the ear and dragging her along. "How many times have we practiced the timing?" she huffed. "Honestly, Chelsea, if you're not in place when the curtain goes up I'll drown you in the Opera Ghost's lake!" She pushed Chelsea out onto the stage a second before the curtain was drawn. The music started to play. Chelsea opened her mouth to speak…and realized she'd forgotten her lines. She gaped wordlessly, staring out at the audience.
"It's big, isn't it?" James improvised, coming to stand at her side. In a flash, Chelsea remembered.
"It's too big," she recited, staring around distastefully. "Why on earth would anyone need so much room?"
James laughed and took her hand. Chelsea felt a little tingly sensation go down her spine. Whatever problems she'd had getting into character before were gone now. She was Lyssia…the poor island girl who was about to get abused in ten thousand ways.
"The ball starts in three hours!" Christine screeched, doing her best impression of an English La Carlotta. She raced onto the stage, accompanied by the corps de ballet, who were dressed as maids. "You can't wear that ever again!" Christine announced, pointing at Lyssia's island garb. "Servants, civilize her!"
One of the maids yanked Chelsea into a chair and started undoing her braids, pulling rather harder than necessary. Chelsea winced as two other maids joined their fellow. She was hardly listening to Christine sing some weird song about aristocracy and all its rules and regulations. She was too busy thinking that her friends were having too much fun tugging on her hair.
When they had finished with her braids, Lyssia tried to get up, but was yanked down once more. A maid proceeded to violently brush her hair, while another sprayed ten gallons of perfume in her face. Chelsea coughed and gagged, but was drowned out by the audience, who had just laughed at something funny in the song.
A changing screen was dragged out onto the stage, and James was shoved offstage. Poor Chelsea was pulled behind the screen, hidden from the audience. They could only hear her cry, "No! Anything but that!"
"And no proper woman would be seen without a corset!" Christine trilled, purposefully badly.
The orchestra was silent. The entire house was completely silent. Then a rrrrip and a sharp intake of breath was heard.
"Let's see the result!" Christine commanded as the music started once again. Chelsea stepped gingerly out from behind the screen, wearing an elegant, cream-colored ball gown. She was breathing slightly harder than usual, and her face was flushed. Her black, curly locks spilled over her shoulders, giving her a more civilized look. The gloves on her hands were the same color as the gown, but they had lines of gold glitter spiraling all over them.
James appeared by her side. "You look beautiful, Lyssia," he commented, smiling.
"Ben!" Lyssia cried, in an I-can't-believe-you're-taking-their-side tone. "I…CAN'T…" She tried to breathe in deeply, but was restrained by the stupid corset. "…breathe!" she choked out.
"Better, but not good enough!" Christine shouted. "Makeup!"
Lyssia yelped and tried to run away, but two maids grabbed her by her elbows and pulled her back, kicking and screaming. They deposited her in a chair and held her down, while a few others (smirking evilly at Chelsea) covered her in gigantic clouds of chalky powder. Chelsea coughed and then yelped in pain as a maid grabbed her hair from the behind and started pulling it back into a big ribbon. Two other maids jammed her feet into high heeled shoes. They pulled her to her feet and stood back to admire the effect. Chelsea wobbled on her high heels, and then fell backwards, shrieking. A maid caught her and pushed her back onto her feet, but the poor girl fell forward. In the corner, Ben (or maybe it was James…) was shaking with barely-contained laughter.
"Much better!" Christine approved, nodding graciously. "It's time to prepare for the ball!"
The backdrop was pulled up to reveal a backdrop that portrayed a ballroom. Dancers poured onto the stage, waltzing, chatting and having a good time in the old aristocratic way. Ben took Lyssia by the hand and led her onto the dance floor. They waltzed, smiling nervously at each other.
"What do you think?" Ben asked. "It's not as nice as the island dancing, but…"
"It's the best thing I've since I've come here!" Lyssia told him, smiling.
"Good," Ben sighed. "I'll be right back…"
He stepped off to the side. Lyssia stood there, ignoring the whispers of young ladies off to the side. Ignore them, Chelsea thought. Ignore them, or the Wrath of Meg will descend upon you!
One young lady laughed loudly, and her friends shushed her when Lyssia glanced at them.
"Why?" the bold girl asked. "She can't understand us!"
"Actually, Miss," Lyssia interrupted,
"I'm perfectly fluent in the English language!
I understood every word you said.
I heard every insult that you've thrown at me.
My goodness, you have such a large head!"
The young woman gasped. A little too dramatic, Belle, Chelsea thought. Work on it.
Belle marched over to Chelsea. "Exactly who do you think you are?" she snapped.
"I am nobody," Lyssia replied smartly. "Exactly like you."
The young lady gasped again, then slapped Lyssia hard.
Chelsea squeaked. "Stage slap!" she hissed behind her hands. Belle turned and pranced off with her nose in the air. Chelsea shot her a furious glance and stomped off the other way, nearly killing herself in her heels.
Christine took center stage and sang with another soprano…something about civilizing wild beasts. Chelsea, once again, was not paying attention. She was grinning evilly at Belle from the right wing and getting the same expression from the left wing. Right on cue, she walked gracefully out onto the stage, in the background. She passed by Belle, who was walking the other way, and stepped meaningfully on the skirt of her friend/enemy's gown. The audience roared with laughter when they heard it rip.
Belle swung around and slapped at Chelsea again, but Chelsea dodged out of the way and gave Belle a taste of her own medicine. She didn't stage slap. Yelping, Belle slid her shoe off of her foot and threw it right at Chelsea's face, hitting her squarely in the nose.
Chelsea howled in pain, although it was muffled because she had her hands up at her nose. She staggered about in pain for a little while longer than she was supposed to, resisting the strong urge to scream about her broken nose. She made up for it by stomping down hard on Belle's foot, taking immense satisfaction in the scream that followed. The audience was just eating it up.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF GOD ARE YOU DOING?"
Lyssia turned very red and spun around to face a seething Lady Caldercan. She hadn't seen all of the fight; she had merely witnessed Lyssia stomping on the girl's foot.
"I am very ashamed and embarrassed!" Lady Caldercan cried, outraged.
"But-" Lyssia started.
"Just what I would expect from a wild beast," the other soprano sniffed.
Lyssia stared at her, shocked and hurt, tears spilling from her eyes. Then she turned with a sob and ran offstage, adding insult to injury by tripping in her heels.
As Chelsea pulled off her shoes and wiped the makeup off her face, she listened as James/Ben reappeared on stage and yelled at his mother, stirring up the party.
The backdrop that had earlier depicted the Caldercan Mansion rolled slowly down again.
The audience was touched as they saw poor Lyssia walk slowly onstage. She had abandoned her shoes, makeup, and corset. She sat down dejectedly and started to sing.
"Never did I imagine it would be this hard.
Never did I think that I could fail.
Never could I think I could be wrong,
That I would up fighting tooth and nail!"
Chelsea poured as much emotion as she could into the lyrics while still trying to make herself understandable. She remembered the note from O.G. and couldn't help looking out toward Box 5…
"I gave up my life, my heart, my soul
For love…for love.
I gave up my music, gave up my dance
For love!
Was it really worth it?
I will never know.
I gave up my life…
For love."
The sad music died away, and for a moment there was silence. Then a distinct bongo rhythm could be heard…it was soft, but growing louder and louder by the second. It seemed to put Lyssia into a reverie. She stood up, as if in a trance and jumped forward, landing on her bare tiptoes. She glanced around to see if anyone was looking, then started to dance. It was simple at first, but it got more complicated and heartfelt, with Lyssia jumping, waving her arms, rolling her head…it was an odd thing to do in a fancy ball gown. Lyssia leaped into the air- it was, by ballet standards, an excellent leap.
It would have been perfect if Chelsea had not landed on her big, poofy skirts and slid five feet across the stage before falling on her back. That wasn't supposed to happen! Poor Chelsea could feel her cheeks start to turn red, and she fought the reaction, trying to improvise and look depressed. She even threw in a few sobs for good measure.
Before she could pick herself off the ground, James/Ben was at her side, pulling her up.
"Oh, Ben," Lyssia whispered, shaking her head mournfully.
"I'm so sorry. I love you, and
I gave it my best try.
But if I don't return to my Island of Dance,
I will surely die!"
With that, Lyssia collapsed into Ben's arms, unconscious. "Mother, Father! Call the doctor!" Ben yelled.
Play dead. You are dead. Play dead, Chelsea thought, fighting the urge to snicker loudly.
"I clearly don't see the point, Benjamin," Lord Caldercan said, striding onto the stage with his wife on his arm. "She's only a wild islander, after all. A beast, Ben!"
The timpani rumbled as Ben positively shook with anger. After what seemed an eternity of tension, he burst out in angry song.
"You monsters! You spoiled aristocrats!
I can't believe it!
She gave away her life for me!
How could you?
Ever since the moment
She arrived here
You treated her like a wild beast!
She's a person, a human!
I hate you!
I'm leaving!"
Lord and Lady Caldercan watched, flabbergasted, as Ben scooped up the unconscious Lyssia and marched away.
Oh my goodness, Chelsea thought. James is really strong…all those years of being a stagehand paid off!
"B-but, Benny darling! Where are you going?" Lady Caldercan cried.
"To the Island of Dance!" Ben shouted, not looking at his mother. "Lyssia was willing to give up her life for me. It's only fitting that I should do the same for her. I have to get her there before the only thing I care about dies!" He stomped offstage. As hard as it was to admit, Chelsea had to excercise a lot of self control to keep herself out of a swooning fit.
The backdrops were pulled up and the scenery was removed. A large, bridge-like structure (A/N: like the one in Don Juan Triumphant!) was revealed, along with a few palm trees. Ben/James walked back onstage and laid Lyssia/Chelsea carefully down on the far right side of the stage (very carefully, as Chelsea had made it clear that if James caused her to hit her head again she would push him into the orchestra pit).
"I'm so sorry, Lyssia," Ben murmured, kneeling at her side. "You were willing to give up a life worth living for me, but I was unwilling to give up a prison life for you."
As he spoke, the villagers appeared onstage and started dancing to a bongo rhythm. The women were wearing stretchy blouses and short pants, and the men wore shorts, but no shirts. A few came and stared oddly at Lyssia and Ben, and Ben stared despairingly back. The young man started bobbing his head to the rhythm, and soon he was up dancing.
Suddenly, Chelsea felt an enormous urge to sneeze. No! she thought desperately. Please, God, no! Everything that could have gone wrong already has…don't sneeze! Don't sneeze, darn it! Don't-"
She felt somebody grab her ankles, and then she was pulled offstage. None of the audience members saw it in the dim light.
"You've got exactly two minutes to change costumes," Meg growled at her. "I can't believe you forgot your lines! And then you fell!"
"Please, Meg! Can we do this later?" Chelsea begged. She sneezed loudly.
"Fine," Meg grumbled. She stalked off. Chelsea was immediately cornered by hair stylists, who attacked her hair and braided it as fast as they possibly could into the teeny, tiny braids Lyssia had worn in the first act.
Onstage, the dancers were still dancing and singing. It was surprising that the audience wasn't bored yet. But they all cheered when Lyssia appeared in the midst of it all, dressed in island attire and apparently very healthy. Upon seeing her, Ben broke out of his trance and pushed through the dancers to her side. She didn't notice he was there until he grabbed her hand, and everything went silent.
"Oh, Lyssia," Ben whispered, a pleading look in his eyes. "I'm so sorry. You could have died…" he trailed off, shaking his head. He looked up again, fire burning in his eyes. "I love you. No matter what happens, I will always be here at your side. We'll stay here forever, on the Island of Dance!"
A smile slowly crept onto Lyssia's face. She pulled Ben offstage, and the music started again. The islanders smiled knowingly at each other "Poor, young lovers…
"He's broken his chains!
He's broken free!
He's out on his own…
Benjamin
Caldercan,
Benjamin,
Benjamin,
You've broken out!
Now you are
Free!"
It was time for the reprise, and that meant one thing…the High Note. Chelsea ascended the stairs to the top of the bridge, singing with the chorus. Her palms were sweating. At the end of the song she had to sing a note that went beyond her comfort range. It had driven her completely nuts during rehearsals!
Christine had worked with her a long time to try and get that note out. It was a long time before Chelsea could even squeak it. It had discouraged her so much. She was supposed to be a soprano! Weren't these things supposed to come naturally? The note still didn't sound very good, but at least she could get it out now.
At the top of the bridge, Chelsea cartwheeled to the middle, almost slipping because of her sweaty palms. That would have been nasty! Ben/James spun out from the other side, wearing clothes similar to the islanders'. That meant he was shirtless.
Chelsea felt her heart start to beat a mile a minute as she and James joined hands and sang the reprise. She barely knew what she was doing- she was too busy staring into James's eyes. The brown pools shone with an intense fire, which had gentled slightly since she had reappeared on stage, but still burned into her mind and melted away all thought and feeling.
"Two lovers can find romance…"
James' hands squeezed hers encouragingly. Chelsea felt little shivers go down her spine. She opened her mouth and poured out her entire soul into one note, perfectly, beautifully. She held it out a little longer, savoring the taste on her tongue, and closed her eyes, tilting her face up slightly.
Suddenly, she felt James' lips against hers'. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, a strange sensation flooding her soul. James held her close and ran his fingers through her hair. They were dimly aware that the audience was cheering madly and that the curtain was falling. Neither of them heard the ranting and raving of a certain ballet mistress.
"THAT WASN'T IN THE SCRIPT!"
Finally, they broke apart, but stayed in each others' arms.
"I guess we got a little caught up in our characters," James whispered.
"I guess so," Chelsea said softly, not meeting his eyes but smiling all the same.
Off to the side, some ballet girls were watching them with interest.
"They're so perfect for each other," Charlotte sighed. "It's funny that they should realize it onstage, during a performance."
"You know what the song says," Belle chuckled. "There's a reason why dance rhymes with romance!"
---
Christine smothered Chelsea in a gigantic hug. "I knew you could do it!" she cried. "You worked so hard, Chelsea, and you got that note out perfectly!"
"Thanks, Christine," Chelsea giggled. "You know, I couldn't have done it without you."
At that moment, Chelsea's ballet friends ambushed her, cheering, laughing, joking about her and James. Christine took that moment to make her exit.
She walked back to her dressing room and entered, marveling at how well Chelsea had cleaned it up. She started over toward her wardrobe, but something on the floor caught her eye.
It was a rose. A rose tied with a black ribbon. Christine's heart jumped, and she could feel the color drain out of her face. With trembling hands she picked the rose up and read the note attached to it.
"Oh, Chelsea!" she whispered. She knew that there had been something suspicious about the way the girl had tried to hide the flower! "What have you gotten yourself into?"
---
A/N: Duuuuuuuuuuuuuun….dun, dun, dun, dun, duuuuuuuuuuuuuun….Christine and Chelsea have started down the path that leads to what I call "The Point Where Everything Clicks." That has a nice ring to it. Unless I'm feeling formal, I'll refer to it from now on as "PWEC".
WOOHOO! SPRING BREAK! And you know what that means…more updates! Hopefully! I'll be traveling, but you know what the good thing about laptops are? THEY'RE PORTABLE! I won't have internet access in the car, but I'll find somewhere that does so I can upload. Sorry for not writing faster…the stupid operetta was really getting on my nerves! I apologize for coming up with it in the first place. I assure you, it will never happen again. NEVER!
Coming up in the next few chapters: Chelsea/James fluff, Angry Erik, a masquerade, and…PWEC! Be a dear and review. I'd like to take this moment to thank all my reviewers…especially the anonymous ones! Wow, you guys rock! I wish I could reply to the anon. reviewers, because you have such nice comments and questions! Thanks a lot for reviewing! Why is this bold? Just in case you're someone like me, who tends to skim-read long paragraphs.
Okie doke then…I'm outta here! And in case you were wondering, I did update Hayfield! I alternate between the two, you know. Thanks for reading!