A/N: I wish to thank my awesome reviewer for the last chapter at this time. That's right gold4roses, I'm talking about you. Thanks again! I love it that you're still following the story! So chapeau (hurray) and a merci beaucoup to you!
Disclaimer: There may be many things I take credit for the genius of and many things I do not. This is one of those cases I do not. Modesty's depressing isn't it?
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Chapter 10
Discovery
Part I
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It was dark, and the walls seemed to drip brown like that of stalagmites hanging from the opera's lower interior. Slowly a bleak shadow began stirring showing his wide, sullen eyes once again to the candle-lighted chamber. As the now illuminated figure entered his smudged and half hidden face contorted painfully as the last portion of his findings had been collected. Now all the pieces simply remained in a pile as a giant jigsaw puzzle waiting to be reassembled. Young Erik over the last week since his near discovery had been most fortunate as to find the abandoned ruble of an old-fashioned organ. Having loved the thrill of reassembling since a young age his eyes glistened at the task ahead.
Organ keys were soon sorted and the wood scrambled and distastefully found wanting in quality. After what seemed years of abandonment the wood had rotted somewhat so with a wry expression he acknowledged his only option.
'The stage prop storeroom.'
Erik knew he must again venture up to the above. Gritting his teeth he dropped what wood he held, grabbed a few lengths of rope and a rusted saw and began his way up. Oh how he hated unwanted midnight excursions.
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Christine Daae awoke from her sleep suddenly and strangely. It had been the first night she did not awake as a result of her nightmare. In fact even after matching her dream with the face in the mirror her dream had still found her. She wondered why then on this night it did not. Something inside her knew that the night was still present and Saturday had not yet passed into the next day but the poor girl could not yet find sleep once again. She would still have one day more of hard work before Monday arrived and the theater was given its weekly day off.
Pulling her legs up and to the side of her cot she pulled on her nightdress and barefooted went for a walk to calm her nerves and hopefully call forth that legendary man of sand to send her back to sleep.
Rubbing her eyes from the sudden image of light Christine found that her feet had led her to the stage, just ahead of the orchestra pit. Facing her was the strangest glowing object she had set her eyes on. It was like that of a glowing fairy trapped within a cage of light: the ghost light. She had heard the managers ask Bouquet to install one a month ago when the 'ghost problems' seemed to get out of hand. Her fingers reached for it tentatively wondering how such a mysterious object could ensnare such curiosity in her and theoretically ward off such ghosts haunting the theater.
Shaking her head with a sigh and a yawn the young girl gave one last look to the lamp and headed back. Passing a door that was slightly ajar she believed she heard a strange sound. Peering inside and finding within eyesight nothing but spare props she lifted her shoulders in dismissal and left for bed.
Watching with golden eyes and crouched behind the rickety doorframe, Erik watched the young girl walk away and shaking his head as well wondering how it was that it was she always unconsciously confronting him. This constant state of discovery was driving his nerves wild.
Taking the newfound wood back down, he knew that even this job would take him into the next morning.
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It was morning in the opera house and already the place was full with bustle and music.
"Ladies, Ladies! Do try to settle down and return to your places. We have still to finish warm-ups before we begin rehearsals for the newest production." Madame Giry neatly gathered the gossiping girls back into her gaze and eyeing Christine as well as a few others she quickly gave the group a stern eye. "I also wish to take this time to congratulate the newest editions to our chorus and remind them their practice resumes after this, but not until then. We have hours of work to put in today, before those few spend even further hours with Monsieur Reyer."
From the back a few groans were heard, but in the snap of her cane against the stage floor, attention was demanded.
"Now, stretching has commenced and is over. Begin practicing the basic steps."
Everyone quieted and moved into 'first position,' their hands ensnared together and resting calmly by their stomachs.
"Good. Now, second, third, fourth, fifth. Good, good. It is nice to see all of you have come ready today. Now then, lets see have much you have been practicing and retaining. 'Demi Plie,' on my count. One and two and one and two." With each command the woman's cane bat out the counts as she walked around, gazing at her pupils.
"Again, one—two—one—t… Keep your back straight Brigitte, and Sabine your shoulders dear, your shoulders. Come now girls posture is rudimentary, and I should not have to go over this each practice."
The two girls widened their eyes and with a sudden sternness revised their position and began again.
"Very good, now first position. Who remembers what we usually do next? Brigitte?"
The young girl shook her head slightly; she was obviously ashamed and hoping dearly to not receive a reprimanding. Instead Madame Giry's eyes glazed on through the girls until she met one slim individual that made her smile. "No? Well I'll have to try someone else—perhaps, Christine do you mind showing us what the next practice step is?"
The girl blushed deeply, awaking from her mid ravine, and stepped forward. "Battements Tendus." Returning back to fifth position the girl's face hardened with concentration as she whispered the commands, but loud enough that those close by could hear her. "A la quatrieme." Her leg and foot slid out from position in front. "A la seconde." Christine's feet moved out to the side, before she finished off by positioning them again through the back. "A la quatrieme derriere."
She looked up and then stepped back into her spot among the other girls, awaiting Madame's approval.
"Good, Miss Daae, though a tad rushed in execution. You will need to work on that."
Christine nodded and turned her eyes to Meg to see her smiling genuinely at her before joining in and turning back to face instruction. The rest of practice went smoothly and hardly any corrections were made on any of the girls, but by the time practice had ended they were all worn out. Looking back at Christine, Meg wondered how it Christine could possibly hope to catch her breath to sing next.
"All right girls, back to your quarters for the afternoon. Remember that your dejeuner begins promptly at two so don't be late! As for the rest of you girls Monsieur Reyer should be here in a few minutes so stay here." Madame Giry remarked cryptically while calling Meg to follow her. As the two passed Christine the woman whispered softly before catching her eye contact, "Good luck."
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Monsieur Reyer arrived soon after Madame left, but strangely he came, handed out scripts, and left off of the stage. Everyone looked down blankly at the pile of papers, but before anyone could utter a word the new arrival entered quickly though the drawn curtains of the opera stage with a scoff.
"L'elisir d'amore. The Elixir of Love? What sort of rubbish is this opera coming out with this time?"
She flipped quickly through her own script, idly walking herself through the lines and verses before dropping the pile trivially by her side. Rushing over heatedly to one of the nearby chorus girls she grabbed the script for them and almost spitting into their face, yet asking herself more than them, "What sort of rubbish is this that they expect me to sing this! Why when I was in London they only stuck to the refined classics not this—"
The young woman paused mid-vent when he eyes widened in a strange sort of fear in disgust when she saw young Christine hiding in a dark corner. Their eyes locked and once one pair shined with meekness towards those of hatred Corentine's feet moved forward.
"Cosette? Cosette! I'm speaking to you!" The slightly taller and leaner girl towered over Christine whom by now was gritting her teeth, but managed to icily provide her tormenter with a reply.
"My name is Christine."
Corentine smirked slyly before scrunching down beside her to whisper near her ear.
This may be, but that is not what they call you here is it? Cosette— that is your name. Insignificant. You are after all only an insignificant orphan. Doesn't that hit the mark?" The eyes of Christine widened behind the frills in her hair that hid her face. It would be a lie to say the words didn't sting, but she held it in all the same—painfully.
"You'd be surprised how much ballet girls gossip late at night, especially intoxicated. I have only been here a week and already I know enough about you that would—"
Unable to handle her ridicule any longer Christine hissed slightly, "Fermez la bouche."
Still in a taunting tone Corentine asked, what was that?"
To this Christine stood upright, her fists tightly clenched by her sides and her eyes blazing. Simultaneously Monsieur Reyer entered the stage once again just in time to see the outburst.
"I said: 'Fermez la bouche laid!'" The girl, Christine, was seething by now. All she could think about were those late nights in her room crying and calling for her Papa and the silence she received and the pain that it brought her. She was alone and she knew it, and even within an opera house full of girls, one being her one and only friend, Christine felt totally and completely alone. Right then all her frustrations, which had been brooding, landed straight into 'poor' Corentine's face.
"Mademoiselles! Corentine. Daae? What is the meaning of this?" Christine's anger flushed face quickly turned to that of embarrassment as she plopped back down to her seat. Corentine however did not appear to shown any remorse and quickly piped up to the conductor a petty excuse which involved Christine.
"I was simply assisting Mademoiselle with her script when she lashed out on me as you apparently saw."
Monsieur Reyer nodded his head in clear understanding but not in belief. It was clear from what Reyer had witnessed from Daae that she most likely was provoked, but he could do nothing to the daughter of the opera's richest benefactor. Henri Reyer was trapped between moral duty and immoral fortune. Since he first began working for the opera the roles of so many had been shifting and now above all others, money was adjusting the opera's once well-kept balance. He readjusted his reading spectacles before Corentine added, "By the way Monsieur Reyer I absolutely adore this season's choice for an opening opera."
Reyer's eyes widened before he shifted his gaze away from the two.
"Now girls, by now should have at least glanced through the script and noted that this season's opening includes two main female roles a lead and supporting. Now being part of my chorus you girls get first auditions before all the rest of Paris. I suggest all of you do your best because even as chorus girls you could earn a well-established role. Even though many of you may end with roles as the chorus of 'peasants' or even 'soldiers' I expect each of you to treat the opera with as much respect as you would a man who holds your life by a rope."
Pulling a large scroll of paper from his side he mounted it to the wall and allowed a quill to rest by its side. "This is where I would like each and every one of you to sign up. Although the main roles originally call for sopranos I am willing to bend depending on three simple facts."
With that phrase most everyone who had been under Reyer's instruction for even a few weeks whispered under their breath what they knew he would reply.
"Voice clarity. Voice quality. Voice flexibility."
"I will return in a moment so don't just stand there like fools, hurry and sign up."
The moment the man turned his back the load of girls scrambled to the list pushing and shoving as if the higher on the list they were the better their chances.
"Stop pushing!"
"I'm not shoving! You're the one who hit me in the face in order to get the pen."
"Honestly I don't see why all of you are arguing. My name is already in the top slot for the lead."
After the disorderly line fished out Christine, who had been contemplating the event within her mind, stood up silently and waited her turn to inscribe her name into the parchment. One sole girl stood aside and watched her curiously as Christine signed her name up for all three slots except for the position of 'soldier.' Smiling to herself Christine thought to give her as much chance as possible of earning a slot, but there were some things even she would not do.
Monsieur Reyer returned just as al the girls had found their places back among the stage. He looked swiftly over the names before unstitching the parchment and rolling it back up. "Auditions will begin in promptly one hour so I suggest all of you practice. Music sheets are with the script—learn them." With another glance at the group and in remembering the three names under the title for lead role Reyer motioned his eyes towards the young girl Christine who was devouring through the music like she had been deprived of music for years on end and he absently wondered if she had. Still, Reyer whispered to himself directed towards her just as Madame Giry had done.
"Good luck, Christine. Good luck."
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All right, so I technically just split this chapter in half because I was starting to experience so much writer's block that I just wanted to go ahead and get this installment out. To make up for it I'll tell you how things are running. The next chapter (part two) will feature Christine finally going behind that mysterious mirror followed by chapter 11 to where Christine confronts Erik openly for the first time. As far as I can see that chapter will fully feature Erik and Christine and I do not foresee any side trips. Anyways I hope you still enjoyed it and for those of you who like to know when I used french what I am saying the 'glossary' of the phrases/terms used are below.
"dejeuner" Lunch
"Fermez la bouche." Shut your mouth.
"Fermez la bouche laid" Shut your ugly mouth.
Also I wish to apologize for you ballet enthusiasts who may have an idea on what goes on during a normal practice, but I am not one of you. I relied on websites for information in this chapter, but the good news is that I have recently bought a book of famous ballets so at least I can start being more realistic in my portrayals of actual performances at least.
As always I would love a couple of reviews or comments from you readers as they keep me running with imaginative juices.
-MickeytheMouse