Disclaimer~ I OWN IT ALL!!! EVERYTHING! ITS ALL MINE! MUAHAHAHAHA. Yeah and
then I woke up. I own. damn I don't even own the chapter names, they are
all song titles from the musical. Well hey I own the new and improved Meg!
Lol.
Chapter Three
~Think of Me~
"With feasting and dancing and song, tonight in celebration. We greet the victorious throng, returned to bring salvation! The trumpets of Carthage resound! Hear, Romans, now and tremble! Hark to our step on the ground! Hear the drums - Hannibal comes!"
I waited in the wings for my cue, humming along with the music. Glancing around, I spotted Christine a few feet away, biting her lip nervously. "Christine." She looked over. "You will do fine, don't worry. Just keep your mind on the rehearsal." She tensely smiled. It was her first large role; I could not blame her for being worried.
Suddenly I heard Reyer, the repetiteur, raise his voice. "Signor.if you please. We say "Rome" not "Roma."
I giggled. Poor Piangi, he still had his accent. While the Spanish lilt was charming in his speech, Reyer was appalled at Ubaldo Piangi's pronunciation. Constantly he was fighting over diction with the operatic star. Piangi tried, but he would slip at some words, like 'Rome'".
Piangi replied, "Si, si, Rome, not Roma. Is very hard for me. Rome."
Suddenly Lefevre, the manager of the opera, made his way toward the center of the stage as Reyer began the music again. Dodging stagehands, he and two other men stood in the middle of the stage and gazed about. I could see the manager's mouth moving, but I could not catch what he was saying. Moving closer, I strained to listen.
"This way, gentlemen, this way. Rehearsals, as you can see, are under way, for a new production of Chalumeau's 'Hannibal'." Lefevre cleared his throat and began, "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. Some of you have already, perhaps, met Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin." Both men politely bowed as Reyer strode over to Lefevre and began whispering with him.
While he was holding conference, the two strangers gazed about. I studied first one, then the other. Firmin looked about 45, with his light hair just graying at the temples. His small mustache and pointy goatee had not yet been affected by age. He had a thin, grim mouth and high cheekbones that gave him the appearance of looking down upon everyone. Steely gray eyes and a smart opera suit completed the man. Andre looked to be younger, perhaps around 30, and of better humor. His brown hair, neatly combed, was slicked back, and his green eyes twinkled slightly as he looked about. His mouth formed a rather lopsided smirk, and he stood very straight, as one does when trying to look as if one wants to make a good impression. I wondered what they were here for. My thoughts were interrupted when Lefevre loudly excused himself and his two guests for disturbing the practice.
"Once again, Signor, please: Sad to return." Reyer tried to direct everyone's attention back to rehearsal.
I saw Lefevre turn away and mutter to Andre and Firmin, "Our chief repetiteur. Wonderful maestro, but rather a tyrant, I'm afraid." I smothered laughter as the music began again. Moving into position, I concentrated on the measures as I waited for the words that prompted me to begin.
"Tomorrow we shall break the chains of Rome. Tonight, rejoice - your army has come home."
Quickly I danced out onto the stage. One by one, the ballet girls pirouetted around the three men, still center stage, performing the simple combination with ease. I tried to keep an eye on Christine, but I began to get dizzy, so I gave up and tried not to bump into the manager.
Mme. Giry angrily stepped up and banged her cane on the ground as she said, "Gentlemen, if you would kindly move to one side! You are in the way, please."
"So sorry." Moving aside, he declared, "Piangi, our principal tenor. He and Carlotta opposite each other so well. And Mme. Giry, ballet mistress."
He confessed, "I shan't be sorry to be rid of this whole blessed business." He rubbed his temples and sighed. "It's a fine life, but the people you put up with."
"I keep asking you, sir, why are you retiring again?" Firmin inquired.
Ignoring the question, Lefevre continued, "We take great pride in our ballets here at the opera. Our dancers are trained from a young age, and the talented are picked out from the flops. Only the best, you see."
Chapter Three
~Think of Me~
"With feasting and dancing and song, tonight in celebration. We greet the victorious throng, returned to bring salvation! The trumpets of Carthage resound! Hear, Romans, now and tremble! Hark to our step on the ground! Hear the drums - Hannibal comes!"
I waited in the wings for my cue, humming along with the music. Glancing around, I spotted Christine a few feet away, biting her lip nervously. "Christine." She looked over. "You will do fine, don't worry. Just keep your mind on the rehearsal." She tensely smiled. It was her first large role; I could not blame her for being worried.
Suddenly I heard Reyer, the repetiteur, raise his voice. "Signor.if you please. We say "Rome" not "Roma."
I giggled. Poor Piangi, he still had his accent. While the Spanish lilt was charming in his speech, Reyer was appalled at Ubaldo Piangi's pronunciation. Constantly he was fighting over diction with the operatic star. Piangi tried, but he would slip at some words, like 'Rome'".
Piangi replied, "Si, si, Rome, not Roma. Is very hard for me. Rome."
Suddenly Lefevre, the manager of the opera, made his way toward the center of the stage as Reyer began the music again. Dodging stagehands, he and two other men stood in the middle of the stage and gazed about. I could see the manager's mouth moving, but I could not catch what he was saying. Moving closer, I strained to listen.
"This way, gentlemen, this way. Rehearsals, as you can see, are under way, for a new production of Chalumeau's 'Hannibal'." Lefevre cleared his throat and began, "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen. Some of you have already, perhaps, met Monsieur Andre and Monsieur Firmin." Both men politely bowed as Reyer strode over to Lefevre and began whispering with him.
While he was holding conference, the two strangers gazed about. I studied first one, then the other. Firmin looked about 45, with his light hair just graying at the temples. His small mustache and pointy goatee had not yet been affected by age. He had a thin, grim mouth and high cheekbones that gave him the appearance of looking down upon everyone. Steely gray eyes and a smart opera suit completed the man. Andre looked to be younger, perhaps around 30, and of better humor. His brown hair, neatly combed, was slicked back, and his green eyes twinkled slightly as he looked about. His mouth formed a rather lopsided smirk, and he stood very straight, as one does when trying to look as if one wants to make a good impression. I wondered what they were here for. My thoughts were interrupted when Lefevre loudly excused himself and his two guests for disturbing the practice.
"Once again, Signor, please: Sad to return." Reyer tried to direct everyone's attention back to rehearsal.
I saw Lefevre turn away and mutter to Andre and Firmin, "Our chief repetiteur. Wonderful maestro, but rather a tyrant, I'm afraid." I smothered laughter as the music began again. Moving into position, I concentrated on the measures as I waited for the words that prompted me to begin.
"Tomorrow we shall break the chains of Rome. Tonight, rejoice - your army has come home."
Quickly I danced out onto the stage. One by one, the ballet girls pirouetted around the three men, still center stage, performing the simple combination with ease. I tried to keep an eye on Christine, but I began to get dizzy, so I gave up and tried not to bump into the manager.
Mme. Giry angrily stepped up and banged her cane on the ground as she said, "Gentlemen, if you would kindly move to one side! You are in the way, please."
"So sorry." Moving aside, he declared, "Piangi, our principal tenor. He and Carlotta opposite each other so well. And Mme. Giry, ballet mistress."
He confessed, "I shan't be sorry to be rid of this whole blessed business." He rubbed his temples and sighed. "It's a fine life, but the people you put up with."
"I keep asking you, sir, why are you retiring again?" Firmin inquired.
Ignoring the question, Lefevre continued, "We take great pride in our ballets here at the opera. Our dancers are trained from a young age, and the talented are picked out from the flops. Only the best, you see."