Raoul sat in box five as Christine took the stage once again to perform another classical Mozart opera. The recently deceased man's ideas had been sent out to them to do another memorial piece. Raoul saw Christine flaunt nearly in how perfect she was, and it made him feel good to see her so pleased. Michelle and Meg lead another set of dancers on a lower platform racing blue streamers as if to make it look as if Christine was at the waters surface. The choppy waves were not very distracting, but it was very unnormal for the Popular to do something like this.
Raoul blamed the management.
If they had done what the phantom had told them long ago to do, then perhaps things would have gone better.
His brother might still be alive.
Madame Giry had caught him while he had been out shopping for engagement rings to tell him this.
What a mood killer that had been.
Madame Giry explained herself well, but Raoul's mind was stuck on the words; Andre is dead.
Dead.
"Is it so common for deaths to occur at the Opera Popular?" Raould had asked emotions flooding his senses.
"No, misseur; it seems to have been an accident from what I have been told. Someone found him under the opera house in the basements."
"The basements? What was he doing down there?" But he already knew the answer to that.
Michelle Le'Clair'e.
He put his face in his hands, as he sat down on a public bench.
This is not what I wanted to hear.
"You are seeking an engagement ring?" Madame giry asked.
"Was. I cannot do it in this sort of mood."
"You ought to-and marry her. Soon."
"Why?"
She didn't answer, but left him there on the park bench to debate, mourn and try to decide what came next in his life.
But now he was watching the opera. Christine was hitting every note with perfection.
He smiled; I love you, Christine.
One of the opera dancers who was on her break slipped into his box.
"Can I help you?"
She glanced about quickly, and placed a note in his hands, and vanished. Raoul recalled the girl to be called Fylise, a talented chorus girl who was a friend of Christine's. He opened the note and read it carefully despite how brief it was.
If you know what's best, do not go to the Masquerade Ball with Christine. Stay home and do something togther.
He folded up the note and slipped it into his pocket.
I do not fear the opera ghost or anyone's threats here in this building. Christine wishes to go, and I will take her to the ball.
It was only a month away, but it meant much to Christine to join friends in celebration for this yearly celebration.
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Michelle had denied herself many things due to a fear that she could care again, but she would go to the masquerade, and not for Erik's sake. She had to do something; if she sat out on the sidelines forever waiting for Erik to come back, then there was nothing in life.
She went out with Madame Giry and her daughter to find a suitable costume for the event. She wasn't sure what she would choose or what would set her soul afire these days. The last month of silence-with no Erik in her life had been greuling, and she had lost weight rather than gain anything.
It wasn't good for the child, but she was never hungry anymore.
Madame Giry chose a tailor shop that did custom orders. For Michelle, this was not the place she would have chosen but as her fingers ran across the fabrics, she felt her skin warm against the softness of the velvets.
"Does the lady like velvet?" the tailor asked her.
Michelle smiled weakly, "Yes,"
The tailor circled Michelle once, "You're with child?"
She nodded.
"Four months, I'd guess," she was musing to herself, but the tailor returned her focus to Michelle, "I can make a fine dress that shall knock the guests off their feet, if you wish."
She shrugged, but Meg who perched her chin on Michelle's shoulder playfully said, "Make Michelle a princess, force the men to vye to be the father of her child," she placed a hand on Michelle's middriff.
"Of course,"
Michelle turned to Meg, "I cannot pay for such beauty. You mother knows that I put all of my pay into that donation box out front."
"Mom's paying-a belated Christmas present."
"Meg, I cannot,"
"From me then, Michelle. You haven't treated yourself in a long time. You deserve something nice."
Michelle tried to smile kindly, but found it hard to.
"All I need is to take some sizes, but you can come back in three weeks-it'll be just in time for your Mardi Gras Masquerade." she winked, and helped Meg and Madame Giry find the appropriate fabrics.
"What about colors?" Meg questioned her mother.
"Madame Levonett, will do that for us. She is a genious at color scheming."
They returned two weeks later to stare at three dresses on manequins waiting to be tried on. Madame Giry was the first to try on her dress and have it fitted; an oriental black dress with delicate gold embroidery and trim. Meg went next, who's long white dress made her more graceful than ever, like a moving painting. Her smile seemed to glow just from being in the dress.
Michelle was fitted last; a black dress with a corset back was lined in silver velvet. The center of the dress on the torso had delicate embroidry of birds flying up to her bussom where a small feather centerpiece was set, and the shoulders were centered with elegant black feathers on velvet.
Madame Giry watched carefully as Michelle stared at herself in the mirror; the dress suited her looks, but the Madame could see that Michelle could see some of her old scars. Michelle smiled weakly, but Meg was bounding with excitment to see that they were both so beautifully dressed for the big event.
"It's beautiful," Madame Giry remarked, "A master piece, Madame Levonett."
"For two single mothers it's the best gift I can give."
Madamde Giry paid for the three dresses out of her pocket, and escorted her children back to the opera house where others were making arrangements to be primped and ready for the event that was to be held the following week. Most had a significant other that would attend to them that night, but for Meg and Michelle, there was no man to accompany them.
Madame Giry actually felt bad for them. She would have to do something about that. She wasn't sure how, but she would figure it out. Meg would be easy-she had had a suitor to whom Madame Giry had liked but was unsure if he would be able to attend. For Michelle, well that would be a different story.
She would figure it out though, she always did.
The answer was with Raoul whom brought the occasional friend to watch his bride-to-be perform. For the final showing of Shakespeare's Midsummer Night's Dream, adapted to opera by Misseur Rayay himself, Raoul brought a confident man named Alexi Gregorski. Around the same age as Michelle herself, Madame Giry couldn't help but admire his strong features and charmed expression as he watched the performance.
Madame Giry kept in earshot during the galla to see if this man had been captivated by any of the performers.
"What did you think dear friend?" Raoul asked Alexi.
"Very original. Shakespeare is one of the last artists I would have deemed worthy of being an opera. You're lucky to be the patron here,"
Christine bounded up to Raoul, leaping into his embrace.
"My angel! You did so well tonight!" Raoul greeted Christine. He released Christine and gestured to his friend, "I recall you remember my fiance, Christine."
"With pleasure," he answered kissing Christine's hand.
Christine blushed slightly, but returned her attention to Raoul immediatly.
"Raoul," Alexi caught his attention again, "Who were the two angels who lead the supporting cast?"
"Oh, the chorus girls?" Raoul asked.
"Yes," Alexi's eyes Madame Giry saw were scanning the galla, as it migrated out to the main lobby.
"Madame Giry's daughter Meg, and Miss Michelle Le'Clair'e." Raoul's voice stiffened slightly on Michelle's name.
"What?" Alexi asked catching his stiffness.
"It's nothing. Michelle captivated my brother for some time."
"That Michelle?"
Madame Giry's brow rose. What had Raoul been saying about Michelle.
"Yes,"
"You forgot to mention that she was beautiful,"
Raoul shrugged, "Why would I when I have Christine?" he kissed Christine's cheek, and returned to Alexi, "If you wish to persue Michelle go ahead. I don't know if she's really worth the trouble,"
"Why?"
"I'll tell you later."
Madame Giry watched as the group split off, Raoul and Christine to mingle with others, Alexi retreated to get a drink.
She followed Alexi, innocently getting herself a drink as well.
She paused as Alexi noticed her intentions, and handed her the glass he was about to take for himself.
"Quite the show this evening, Madame Giry."
"It was," she answered, taking a small sip of the wine, feeling it's sweet bitterness play with her tongue as she swallowed.
"I didn't beleive Raoul when he said he was a patron here, so he made me tag along just to prove it."
"And?"
"I am glad he did. There's quite the variety of beauty here that I am overwhellmed by the Opera Popular's splendor."
"Performer's included?"
He glanced at her, green-blue eyes trying to seek any catches but he turned his face away to look amongst the crowd.
"The performers were . . . hypnotizing." he paused, "I hate to ask, but what do you know of this Michelle Le'Clair'e?"
Madame Giry grinned, "Much."
"Raoul doesn't approve of her,"
"Raoul has his reasons, but you cannot blame Michelle." she glanced about, "Let's go somewhere more private, and I can answer whatever it is that Raoul might have said."
He nodded and followed without hesitation.
A good sign. she mused as she walked, It's time to give Michelle someone who will not leave her side.
They entered her office, where Madame Giry poured herself more wine from her own stash, and refilled Alexi's glass.
"What do you want to know?" she asked when they were seated.
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Michelle heard Meg bound up to her with excitment and joy, "Wake up!"
Michelle groaned and rolled out of bed. Meg was already dressed casually since there was no opera to deal with now that the masquerade ball was so soon-three days to be presise. She dressed, used the powder room, and followed Meg out to the dining commons where Fylise and others had gathered about for breakfast.
"What's going on, Meg? What's with the excitement?"
"Madame Levonnett came this morning with another parcell of masks and hats specifically labled for everyone."
"I didn't request one," Michelle answered.
"A gift for Madame Giry inviting the Madame to the masquerade." she bounded up to the parcell and opened the boxes to fine the one with her name on it, and returned with a delicate parcell for Michelle and returned to the fiasco of finding her package.
Michelle opened hers to find a silver feathered mask lined in black, green, and purple feathers. The mask could be tied with a gold ribbon. She barely had time to register what she saw, when meg returned with a head piece over a mask.
"Oh it's so beautiful," Michelle answered, when Meg flaunted it's glamour.
"I know!" she giggled, "I cannot wait for this event!"
Madame Giry came to them holding a letter.
Michelle's heart nearly skipped a beat in fear that it was from Erik until she handed it to Meg.
"What's this?" she asked her mother with question.
"Misseur Rene Roussiar, has sent you a letter Meg."
Meg's eyes widened with curiosity until she read the note.
"He is coming to the ball for me?" she sounded conserned at first until it hit her that she was the reason for him coming. "For me!" she hugged her mother.
Michelle watched but her attention went back to the mask on her lap. The intricasy was so prefected that Michelle was afraid to wear it, for it might break by her wearing it.
"Don't worry, Michelle, my dear. Madame Levonnett knows what she is doing; it won't fall off."
Michelle carfully wrapped, it back into it's package somehow hopeful for this event.