A/N: I do not own Phantom of the Opera or the Think of Me song. I am so fond of the musical that I have to use some of the songs from it! I have also looked at the book and will be combining details from both. R&R...
"Christine! Look over there!" Meg pointed in an excited whisper. "Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre are standing right there by the Roman column," She grinned.
"Oh," She nodded nervously. She wiped her sweaty palms against the silky material of her costume.
"Relax! They will love you! Besides they don't care about us ballet girls. They only care about..." Meg began, but then was cut off by someone.
"Carlotta!" Sorelli filled in coming up along side them. "The rotten Italian Prima Donna. We know! We know!" She threw her hands up daintily in an expression of utter exasperation. Christine watched as the new managers observed them from the side of the stage. The last minute preparations were being finished on the sets and the costumes for the extras. The costume mistress Madame Vinci was still sewing bits of fabric into place on those who played minor roles such as servants or slaves. Madame Giry stood nearby looking stonily at them as if daring them to make one wrong step in their routine. Sorelli turned to scold a girl for bumping into her. The poor girl promptly burst into tears as Sorelli practically bit her head off for being clumsy.
"Come we had better finish stretching," Christine whispered, her gaze flitting over to Madame Giry who was now truly casting her eyes about looking for a trouble-maker. "It's better to look busy with your blessed mother around,"
"You're right," Meg smiled and bent down to stretch. Christine did this also, but kept sneaking peeks at the new managers. She let her gaze travel up to the gold embellished boxes. She tried not to stare at Box 5, but she did. She shivered slightly. She wondered if the Opera Ghost would be watching their practice. Most likely he was. Her eyes searched the darkness of the box, but she could find nothing. Black blended with shadow. "Christine," Meg whispered nudging her. Andre and Firmin were walking that way. It was interesting how two men could seem so different standing next to each other. Monsieur Andre was a short portly man with a grin that could crack a walnut. His blackish grey hair stood in stark contrast to his bright red hued cravat. His demeanor was excited and anxious. He kept looking all around trying to take everything in. Now Monsieur Firmin was a different story. He was tall and thin and stood about two feet higher than Monsieur Andre. His hair was blonde with a great deal more grey thrown in than his friend Andre. His clothes were either grey or black nothing was colorful about him. His mouth was set in an unattractive thin line. He walked with a rigid stride over to the giggling group of ballet girls.
"Good evening Madame Giry," Monsieur Firmin greeted the ballet mistress.
"Good evening Monsieur Firmin, Monsieur Andre," She dipped her head while the men did their own set of short uncomfortable bows. The managers looked over the group of excited young ladies. "I trust you have read the letter which I gave to you," Madame Giry said stiffly. Her dark eyes swept over them disapprovingly as she watched their faces register with pale looks.
"R...Read?" Andre stuttered.
"The letter," Madame Giry replied sternly. "That's what you do with letters...you read them," She muttered non-humorously.
"Now see here Madame Giry!" Firmin interjected. "Know your place,"
"Excuse me, sir," She dipped her head again. "HE will be very disappointed if you have not read the letter,"
"We have read it! Haven't we Firmin," Andre was shaking. Firmin looked quite pale himself.
"Yes," Firmin nodded. He was glancing around as if half expecting the Opera Ghost to appear.
"Well? He will soon be expecting his salary, sir,"
"And we will pay it...I suppose," Firmin answered his eyes flitting over to Andre.
"Of course," Andre said nervously twisting a handkerchief in his hands.
"He has made himself quite clear," Firmin smiled weakly.
"I'm glad you think so," Madame Giry said morbidly. Her look was obviously spooking them, for their faces became even more pale. Firmin half-guided- half-pushed Andre forwarded past Madame Giry. They stopped to chat with some of the girls. Andre shamelessly flirted with Sorelli who in turn smiled delicately at him. Christine heard Meg snort softly.
"He'll find out she's a ruthless conniving tiger under all that rouge!" Meg whispered.
"Well that's the fun of it now isn't," Christine smiled. "Watching him find out that tiny detail after he falls for her,"
"That's one way to look at it," Meg said smiling watching Andre give Sorelli his handkerchief as a gift. Unfortunately, Christine knew something Meg did not. She knew that she would be gone by tomorrow and would not be able to see the relationship unfold. Meg would have to watch the fun by herself. Christine sighed softly.
"I am so sorry to be late!" A voice soaked in an Italian accent accosted their ears. All eyes turned to see Carlotta strut in and step up the stairs onto the stage. She was already in costume with a gold tasseled shawl thrown around her shoulders for good measure.
"Ah the Prima Donna," Christine heard Madame Giry mutter.
"La Carlotta!" Some of the ballet girls whispered excitedly.
"Oh Monsieur Firmin! Monsieur Andre!" Carlotta said breathlessly with feigned surprise. "I did not see you!"
"Sure she didn't," Meg whispered fiercely to Christine.
"Gentlemen, let me introduce you to our Prima Donna," Madame Giry said stepping over to where they stood. The Prima Donna's hair was still curled and placed horridly up upon her head. A bit of color and facial powder was mixed on her face, and her lips looked painted on today. Andre smiled pleasantly to her and roguishly bowed. He had now found his newest love. Christine noticed Sorelli was now pouting in the back of the group of ballet girls.
"It is a pleasure to meet you my lady. We have heard so many great things about you," Andre gushed attaching himself to her doughy arm. Firmin smiled stiffly.
"Er...yes," He said. "So many things," He wasn't as enamored with the Prima Donna, but he did respectfully bow to her. Carlotta blushed a hue that shamed Andre's red cravat.
"Carlotta!" A booming voice greeted their ears. Carlotta turned to find Ubaldo Piangi coming towards her in full costume. "Where were you my love?"
"Oh Ubaldo, forgive me," She said stiffly to him. Then she turned back to see Andre glaring at Piangi thinking him competition. "I am very sorry I was late today. My servants have decided to be incompetent as a whole," She whacked a skinny man who was holding her large bag with all of her belongings. He cowered in fear rubbing his sore forehead all the while. "Especially this one," She said in a wounded tone.
"You'll find the servants of the Opera House to be more than competent my good lady," Firmin comforted her.
"Here Carlotta let me hold it for you," Piangi smiled boldly and took the large bag from the servant. "You bumbling idiot! You don't know how to serve one as great as my lady!"
"Please," Andre said stepping forward and taking the bag from him. "You'll wrinkle your costume. Piangi glared at him.
"He's right Monsieur," Madame Giry said trying to break up a brewing fight.
"Carlotta," Andre said his voice was strained as he struggled to keep his grip strong on the heavy bag. "Won't you sing something for us, let us be the first to hear your aria before tonight!"
"That is a splendid idea," Firmin encouraged.
"Oh I couldn't"
"But you must," Piangi smiled broadly.
"I can not! I do not wish to spoil my voice before tonight!" Carlotta said her tone again held the air of a frightened little girl. The broad lady was anything but.
"Please my dear lady," Andre begged. "It would bless my ears just to hear you,"
"Oh Monsieur you are to kind,"
"Isn't he now," Firmin muttered.
"Very well. I shall sing," She smiled, her blush still lingered making her face look as if she had been drinking too much. This was probably not far from the truth. The pianist turned to look at the Prima Donna flipping his music to the correct page. She gave a heavy nod, and the pianist began the song two bars ahead of where she would begin singing.
"Think of me," Carlotta began. Her words were filled with little embellishments. Christine cringed inwardly. "Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye!" Carlotta continued her song, oblivious to the looks of obvious disdain from Christine and Meg. Were they the only ones who weren't blinded to the fact that Carlotta sounded terrible? No. A shadow in Box 5 watched them. Christine was not the only one wincing at the wrong notes.
How dare they let that peacock strut the stage like that! He was most displeased. He had only held off on demanding her be replaced because he knew her time would come when she would be revealed for what she truly was. A fake jewel may sparkle, but over time its glow begins to fade and it begins to crack. He smiled darkly. It was time. Christine was ready. He would reveal her to Paris, and she would be loved by all. Carlotta would not stand in the way of Christine's obvious talent. The Opera Ghost would not allow it.
"Remember me once and a while, please promise me you'll try! When you find that once again you long to take..." Carlotta was abruptly cut off. A heavy curtain suddenly ripped high above them and landed hard directly behind her missing her by only a foot.
"Oh!" Carlotta gasped and dramatically flung herself into the nearest man's arms. Firmin looked rather embarrassed as he stiffly cradled the heavy Prima Donna in his arms.
"Madame!" He protested. "Are you well?"
"Am I well?" She asked opening one eye in frustration that no one was going for the doctor to aid the fallen Prima Donna. "No I am not well! I was almost killed!"
"It was the ghost!" Jammes shrieked rather loudly.
"That's right! It must have been the Opera Ghost!" Another ballet girl screamed.
"Now please ladies!" Firmin sputtered. "Quiet!" He slowly let Carlotta slip to the floor. She looked up at him with an irritated glance. He did not know that once ballet girls begin shrieking they do not stop for a long while. He looked around in dismay.
"SILENCE!" Madame Giry's voice rang out as her staff stuck the floor loudly.
"Gracious," Andre breathed in shock.
"Thank-you Madame Giry," Firmin said. The stern ballet mistress gave a quick nod and then went back to scolding the ballet girls for being loud.
"How did that happen!?" Andre yelled. Firmin turned to look at his friend in shock. Andre had never once raised his voice. "Carlotta was almost killed," If Firmin had any doubts they were all erased. His friend was in love. He was playing the part of the handsome knight in shining armor rescuing the sweet beauty of a damsel in distress. Only Andre was no handsome knight, and Carlotta was not a sweet beauty. No. Andre was an old fool, and Carlotta was overly large dramatic Italian opera singer.
"There's Joseph Buquet he'll know what happened," Madame Giry calmly pointed a sadly dressed man who was trying to leave with out being seen. "Come here Monsieur Buquet," She said her voice was heavy with disdain.
"W...what?" He turned pretending he hadn't heard.
"Come here Monsieur," Madame Giry said to him sternly.
"Good evening," Joseph clutched his ragged hat in his hands. His breath smelled of liquor. He looked a bit like a slimy rat. His face needed a shave, and his clothes were covered in dirt. Carlotta looked at him in disgust.
"Did you see anything strange up in the rafters Buquet?" She asked him.
"No Madame, I wasn't at my post, I swear," He said warily. "It must have been the ghost who done it, because I didn't see no one go up there,"
"Oh!" The ballet girls shrieked.
"The Phantom of the Opera!" Jammes squealed. Meg squeezed Christine's hand anxiously. Her eyes were wide with the excitement.
"Silence!" Firmin cried. He stomped his foot down hard on the wood imitating the sound of Madame Giry's staff striking the floor, but it didn't work. "For heaven-sakes be quiet!"
"Hush!" Madame Giry said firmly. Her staff once again hit the wooden stage floor. Silence met their ears.
"Finally," Andre whispered as he helped Carlotta stand.
"I'm sorry Madame. I have heard that these "things" seem to happen all the time," Firmin said turning to Carlotta who was trying her best to seem innocent and frightened.
"Si! These things do happen! All the time these things happen!" She said her voice building in volume. "Until you stop these things from happening I am leaving!" Her Italian accent was heavier when she was angry.
"But my lady!" Andre protested.
"Don't "my lady" me! I am in no mood!" Carlotta said grabbing her bag back from Andre. "Good day Monsieur and I do hope you find another Prima Donna before tonight's performance!" Her servant was bobbing at her side as usual as she huffed out. Andre gazed sadly after her as she left. Piangi was watching her leave as well with a horrified expression on his face.
"Oh no!" Firmin cried. "We'll be ruined Andre! We have every seat booked!"
"Calm down my friend! We will think of something!' Andre comforted.
"What?" Firmin asked.
"I don't know yet," Andre admitted sounding defeated.
"Oh dear me!" Meg whispered. "What will happen now that Carlotta is gone?" Christine had no answer for her friend.
"Christine Daae will sing for the part, Monsieur," Madame Giry suddenly spoke up. Christine whirled around to face Madame Giry. She began to tremble even more.
"The chorus girl?" Andre and Firmin said at the same time.
"Is there any other Daae?"
"But Madame...!" Christine began, but Madame Giry cut her off.
"She will sing for you. She has been well taught," Madame Giry said giving Christine a stern glare. How had Madame Giry known that she had been taking lessons? The thought was a mystery to her.
"Ah what teacher have you studied under my dear?" Andre asked naming off some of the great voice teachers.
"None of those sir," She replied faintly. Meg put a steadying hand on her shoulder.
"What is his name then?" Firmin asked he was getting rather irritated with the soft spoken chorus girl,"
"I do not know his name sir,"
"For goodness sake Madame Giry you should no better than some how to spot talent. Why are you picking out such a girl who doesn't even know the name of her own teacher? He must not be very well known,"
"Oh he is well known," Madame Giry said stepping up to her full height. "His name is Monsieur Ange,"
"Well I've never heard of any Monsieur Ange," Andre said to a bewildered Firmin.
"Why not, instead of questioning everything under sun, let the girl sing for you?" Madame Giry interrupted.
"Oh very well," Firmin said harshly. "Sing for us then Mademoiselle Daae,"
"Madame Giry!" Christine said softly. Her anxiety was taking over her again.
"You heard the man Christine, sing," Meg whispered encouragingly.
"I...I," She mumbled. She glanced back at Meg.
"Imitate Carlotta's boldness, forget your meek self. You'll do fine," Meg smiled.
"Very well," She whispered and stepped to the middle of the stage. She looked back at the pianist and nodded. "Same piece please," She said softly. Again he began the song, but instead of beginning two bars ahead like he had for Carlotta, he began only a few notes early. With a scowl he began to play. He obviously did not like it that the Prima Donna Carlotta had left.
"Think of me," Christine began shakily. Firmin shook his head. "Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try," She tried to find inner strength. She thought of her papa, and the days when she had been happier. "And when you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free. If you ever find a moment spare a thought for me," She heard her voice begin to grow stronger. "We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember stop and think of me. Think of all things we've shared and seen, don't think about the things which might have been. Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned, and imagine me trying to hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do. There will never be a day when I won't think of you!" She was surprised at her own voice. She hoped it sounded as lovely in her hears as it did in theirs. Christine could not bear to look at anyone while she sang. She could not bear to see the looks of horror on their faces. She hoped her Angel would not be too unhappy with her failure. She was still trembling as she sang, but she tried to push through it and be strong for her papa, and for her angel. She finished the song strongly, and waited for the criticism from the managers.
"Someone find that women a costume!" Firmin shouted. Christine looked up in surprise.
"Hurry up! We still have much to do before tonight!" Andre added.
"You've done it Christine!" Meg whispered happily into her ear. She led Christine to a nearby chair in the wings of the stage. Madame Giry passed them and whispered to Christine so only she could hear.
"He will be pleased," Madame Giry said softly. Christine looked wide-eyed into the ballet mistress's face. So her Angel and The Opera House Ghost were one and the same!
"Christine! Look over there!" Meg pointed in an excited whisper. "Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre are standing right there by the Roman column," She grinned.
"Oh," She nodded nervously. She wiped her sweaty palms against the silky material of her costume.
"Relax! They will love you! Besides they don't care about us ballet girls. They only care about..." Meg began, but then was cut off by someone.
"Carlotta!" Sorelli filled in coming up along side them. "The rotten Italian Prima Donna. We know! We know!" She threw her hands up daintily in an expression of utter exasperation. Christine watched as the new managers observed them from the side of the stage. The last minute preparations were being finished on the sets and the costumes for the extras. The costume mistress Madame Vinci was still sewing bits of fabric into place on those who played minor roles such as servants or slaves. Madame Giry stood nearby looking stonily at them as if daring them to make one wrong step in their routine. Sorelli turned to scold a girl for bumping into her. The poor girl promptly burst into tears as Sorelli practically bit her head off for being clumsy.
"Come we had better finish stretching," Christine whispered, her gaze flitting over to Madame Giry who was now truly casting her eyes about looking for a trouble-maker. "It's better to look busy with your blessed mother around,"
"You're right," Meg smiled and bent down to stretch. Christine did this also, but kept sneaking peeks at the new managers. She let her gaze travel up to the gold embellished boxes. She tried not to stare at Box 5, but she did. She shivered slightly. She wondered if the Opera Ghost would be watching their practice. Most likely he was. Her eyes searched the darkness of the box, but she could find nothing. Black blended with shadow. "Christine," Meg whispered nudging her. Andre and Firmin were walking that way. It was interesting how two men could seem so different standing next to each other. Monsieur Andre was a short portly man with a grin that could crack a walnut. His blackish grey hair stood in stark contrast to his bright red hued cravat. His demeanor was excited and anxious. He kept looking all around trying to take everything in. Now Monsieur Firmin was a different story. He was tall and thin and stood about two feet higher than Monsieur Andre. His hair was blonde with a great deal more grey thrown in than his friend Andre. His clothes were either grey or black nothing was colorful about him. His mouth was set in an unattractive thin line. He walked with a rigid stride over to the giggling group of ballet girls.
"Good evening Madame Giry," Monsieur Firmin greeted the ballet mistress.
"Good evening Monsieur Firmin, Monsieur Andre," She dipped her head while the men did their own set of short uncomfortable bows. The managers looked over the group of excited young ladies. "I trust you have read the letter which I gave to you," Madame Giry said stiffly. Her dark eyes swept over them disapprovingly as she watched their faces register with pale looks.
"R...Read?" Andre stuttered.
"The letter," Madame Giry replied sternly. "That's what you do with letters...you read them," She muttered non-humorously.
"Now see here Madame Giry!" Firmin interjected. "Know your place,"
"Excuse me, sir," She dipped her head again. "HE will be very disappointed if you have not read the letter,"
"We have read it! Haven't we Firmin," Andre was shaking. Firmin looked quite pale himself.
"Yes," Firmin nodded. He was glancing around as if half expecting the Opera Ghost to appear.
"Well? He will soon be expecting his salary, sir,"
"And we will pay it...I suppose," Firmin answered his eyes flitting over to Andre.
"Of course," Andre said nervously twisting a handkerchief in his hands.
"He has made himself quite clear," Firmin smiled weakly.
"I'm glad you think so," Madame Giry said morbidly. Her look was obviously spooking them, for their faces became even more pale. Firmin half-guided- half-pushed Andre forwarded past Madame Giry. They stopped to chat with some of the girls. Andre shamelessly flirted with Sorelli who in turn smiled delicately at him. Christine heard Meg snort softly.
"He'll find out she's a ruthless conniving tiger under all that rouge!" Meg whispered.
"Well that's the fun of it now isn't," Christine smiled. "Watching him find out that tiny detail after he falls for her,"
"That's one way to look at it," Meg said smiling watching Andre give Sorelli his handkerchief as a gift. Unfortunately, Christine knew something Meg did not. She knew that she would be gone by tomorrow and would not be able to see the relationship unfold. Meg would have to watch the fun by herself. Christine sighed softly.
"I am so sorry to be late!" A voice soaked in an Italian accent accosted their ears. All eyes turned to see Carlotta strut in and step up the stairs onto the stage. She was already in costume with a gold tasseled shawl thrown around her shoulders for good measure.
"Ah the Prima Donna," Christine heard Madame Giry mutter.
"La Carlotta!" Some of the ballet girls whispered excitedly.
"Oh Monsieur Firmin! Monsieur Andre!" Carlotta said breathlessly with feigned surprise. "I did not see you!"
"Sure she didn't," Meg whispered fiercely to Christine.
"Gentlemen, let me introduce you to our Prima Donna," Madame Giry said stepping over to where they stood. The Prima Donna's hair was still curled and placed horridly up upon her head. A bit of color and facial powder was mixed on her face, and her lips looked painted on today. Andre smiled pleasantly to her and roguishly bowed. He had now found his newest love. Christine noticed Sorelli was now pouting in the back of the group of ballet girls.
"It is a pleasure to meet you my lady. We have heard so many great things about you," Andre gushed attaching himself to her doughy arm. Firmin smiled stiffly.
"Er...yes," He said. "So many things," He wasn't as enamored with the Prima Donna, but he did respectfully bow to her. Carlotta blushed a hue that shamed Andre's red cravat.
"Carlotta!" A booming voice greeted their ears. Carlotta turned to find Ubaldo Piangi coming towards her in full costume. "Where were you my love?"
"Oh Ubaldo, forgive me," She said stiffly to him. Then she turned back to see Andre glaring at Piangi thinking him competition. "I am very sorry I was late today. My servants have decided to be incompetent as a whole," She whacked a skinny man who was holding her large bag with all of her belongings. He cowered in fear rubbing his sore forehead all the while. "Especially this one," She said in a wounded tone.
"You'll find the servants of the Opera House to be more than competent my good lady," Firmin comforted her.
"Here Carlotta let me hold it for you," Piangi smiled boldly and took the large bag from the servant. "You bumbling idiot! You don't know how to serve one as great as my lady!"
"Please," Andre said stepping forward and taking the bag from him. "You'll wrinkle your costume. Piangi glared at him.
"He's right Monsieur," Madame Giry said trying to break up a brewing fight.
"Carlotta," Andre said his voice was strained as he struggled to keep his grip strong on the heavy bag. "Won't you sing something for us, let us be the first to hear your aria before tonight!"
"That is a splendid idea," Firmin encouraged.
"Oh I couldn't"
"But you must," Piangi smiled broadly.
"I can not! I do not wish to spoil my voice before tonight!" Carlotta said her tone again held the air of a frightened little girl. The broad lady was anything but.
"Please my dear lady," Andre begged. "It would bless my ears just to hear you,"
"Oh Monsieur you are to kind,"
"Isn't he now," Firmin muttered.
"Very well. I shall sing," She smiled, her blush still lingered making her face look as if she had been drinking too much. This was probably not far from the truth. The pianist turned to look at the Prima Donna flipping his music to the correct page. She gave a heavy nod, and the pianist began the song two bars ahead of where she would begin singing.
"Think of me," Carlotta began. Her words were filled with little embellishments. Christine cringed inwardly. "Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye!" Carlotta continued her song, oblivious to the looks of obvious disdain from Christine and Meg. Were they the only ones who weren't blinded to the fact that Carlotta sounded terrible? No. A shadow in Box 5 watched them. Christine was not the only one wincing at the wrong notes.
How dare they let that peacock strut the stage like that! He was most displeased. He had only held off on demanding her be replaced because he knew her time would come when she would be revealed for what she truly was. A fake jewel may sparkle, but over time its glow begins to fade and it begins to crack. He smiled darkly. It was time. Christine was ready. He would reveal her to Paris, and she would be loved by all. Carlotta would not stand in the way of Christine's obvious talent. The Opera Ghost would not allow it.
"Remember me once and a while, please promise me you'll try! When you find that once again you long to take..." Carlotta was abruptly cut off. A heavy curtain suddenly ripped high above them and landed hard directly behind her missing her by only a foot.
"Oh!" Carlotta gasped and dramatically flung herself into the nearest man's arms. Firmin looked rather embarrassed as he stiffly cradled the heavy Prima Donna in his arms.
"Madame!" He protested. "Are you well?"
"Am I well?" She asked opening one eye in frustration that no one was going for the doctor to aid the fallen Prima Donna. "No I am not well! I was almost killed!"
"It was the ghost!" Jammes shrieked rather loudly.
"That's right! It must have been the Opera Ghost!" Another ballet girl screamed.
"Now please ladies!" Firmin sputtered. "Quiet!" He slowly let Carlotta slip to the floor. She looked up at him with an irritated glance. He did not know that once ballet girls begin shrieking they do not stop for a long while. He looked around in dismay.
"SILENCE!" Madame Giry's voice rang out as her staff stuck the floor loudly.
"Gracious," Andre breathed in shock.
"Thank-you Madame Giry," Firmin said. The stern ballet mistress gave a quick nod and then went back to scolding the ballet girls for being loud.
"How did that happen!?" Andre yelled. Firmin turned to look at his friend in shock. Andre had never once raised his voice. "Carlotta was almost killed," If Firmin had any doubts they were all erased. His friend was in love. He was playing the part of the handsome knight in shining armor rescuing the sweet beauty of a damsel in distress. Only Andre was no handsome knight, and Carlotta was not a sweet beauty. No. Andre was an old fool, and Carlotta was overly large dramatic Italian opera singer.
"There's Joseph Buquet he'll know what happened," Madame Giry calmly pointed a sadly dressed man who was trying to leave with out being seen. "Come here Monsieur Buquet," She said her voice was heavy with disdain.
"W...what?" He turned pretending he hadn't heard.
"Come here Monsieur," Madame Giry said to him sternly.
"Good evening," Joseph clutched his ragged hat in his hands. His breath smelled of liquor. He looked a bit like a slimy rat. His face needed a shave, and his clothes were covered in dirt. Carlotta looked at him in disgust.
"Did you see anything strange up in the rafters Buquet?" She asked him.
"No Madame, I wasn't at my post, I swear," He said warily. "It must have been the ghost who done it, because I didn't see no one go up there,"
"Oh!" The ballet girls shrieked.
"The Phantom of the Opera!" Jammes squealed. Meg squeezed Christine's hand anxiously. Her eyes were wide with the excitement.
"Silence!" Firmin cried. He stomped his foot down hard on the wood imitating the sound of Madame Giry's staff striking the floor, but it didn't work. "For heaven-sakes be quiet!"
"Hush!" Madame Giry said firmly. Her staff once again hit the wooden stage floor. Silence met their ears.
"Finally," Andre whispered as he helped Carlotta stand.
"I'm sorry Madame. I have heard that these "things" seem to happen all the time," Firmin said turning to Carlotta who was trying her best to seem innocent and frightened.
"Si! These things do happen! All the time these things happen!" She said her voice building in volume. "Until you stop these things from happening I am leaving!" Her Italian accent was heavier when she was angry.
"But my lady!" Andre protested.
"Don't "my lady" me! I am in no mood!" Carlotta said grabbing her bag back from Andre. "Good day Monsieur and I do hope you find another Prima Donna before tonight's performance!" Her servant was bobbing at her side as usual as she huffed out. Andre gazed sadly after her as she left. Piangi was watching her leave as well with a horrified expression on his face.
"Oh no!" Firmin cried. "We'll be ruined Andre! We have every seat booked!"
"Calm down my friend! We will think of something!' Andre comforted.
"What?" Firmin asked.
"I don't know yet," Andre admitted sounding defeated.
"Oh dear me!" Meg whispered. "What will happen now that Carlotta is gone?" Christine had no answer for her friend.
"Christine Daae will sing for the part, Monsieur," Madame Giry suddenly spoke up. Christine whirled around to face Madame Giry. She began to tremble even more.
"The chorus girl?" Andre and Firmin said at the same time.
"Is there any other Daae?"
"But Madame...!" Christine began, but Madame Giry cut her off.
"She will sing for you. She has been well taught," Madame Giry said giving Christine a stern glare. How had Madame Giry known that she had been taking lessons? The thought was a mystery to her.
"Ah what teacher have you studied under my dear?" Andre asked naming off some of the great voice teachers.
"None of those sir," She replied faintly. Meg put a steadying hand on her shoulder.
"What is his name then?" Firmin asked he was getting rather irritated with the soft spoken chorus girl,"
"I do not know his name sir,"
"For goodness sake Madame Giry you should no better than some how to spot talent. Why are you picking out such a girl who doesn't even know the name of her own teacher? He must not be very well known,"
"Oh he is well known," Madame Giry said stepping up to her full height. "His name is Monsieur Ange,"
"Well I've never heard of any Monsieur Ange," Andre said to a bewildered Firmin.
"Why not, instead of questioning everything under sun, let the girl sing for you?" Madame Giry interrupted.
"Oh very well," Firmin said harshly. "Sing for us then Mademoiselle Daae,"
"Madame Giry!" Christine said softly. Her anxiety was taking over her again.
"You heard the man Christine, sing," Meg whispered encouragingly.
"I...I," She mumbled. She glanced back at Meg.
"Imitate Carlotta's boldness, forget your meek self. You'll do fine," Meg smiled.
"Very well," She whispered and stepped to the middle of the stage. She looked back at the pianist and nodded. "Same piece please," She said softly. Again he began the song, but instead of beginning two bars ahead like he had for Carlotta, he began only a few notes early. With a scowl he began to play. He obviously did not like it that the Prima Donna Carlotta had left.
"Think of me," Christine began shakily. Firmin shook his head. "Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try," She tried to find inner strength. She thought of her papa, and the days when she had been happier. "And when you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free. If you ever find a moment spare a thought for me," She heard her voice begin to grow stronger. "We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember stop and think of me. Think of all things we've shared and seen, don't think about the things which might have been. Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned, and imagine me trying to hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do. There will never be a day when I won't think of you!" She was surprised at her own voice. She hoped it sounded as lovely in her hears as it did in theirs. Christine could not bear to look at anyone while she sang. She could not bear to see the looks of horror on their faces. She hoped her Angel would not be too unhappy with her failure. She was still trembling as she sang, but she tried to push through it and be strong for her papa, and for her angel. She finished the song strongly, and waited for the criticism from the managers.
"Someone find that women a costume!" Firmin shouted. Christine looked up in surprise.
"Hurry up! We still have much to do before tonight!" Andre added.
"You've done it Christine!" Meg whispered happily into her ear. She led Christine to a nearby chair in the wings of the stage. Madame Giry passed them and whispered to Christine so only she could hear.
"He will be pleased," Madame Giry said softly. Christine looked wide-eyed into the ballet mistress's face. So her Angel and The Opera House Ghost were one and the same!