Amoret LeRoux glanced in the backstage mirror quickly. A young girl of almost but not quite nineteen looked back at her. She had long red hair which was currently curled and piled on top of her head, a gently upturned nose, a Cupid's bow mouth of pale rose, creamy white skin and slightly tilted gray-green eyes.
She was a lovely girl, but she was often made to forget this. "Out of my way, little toad! *I* am the Diva!" Carlotta Guidicelli snapped impatiently at poor Amoret, who moved as quickly as her costume would allow. "Some people give themselves such airs, Ubaldo! And simply because they somehow managed to get a place in the chorus!" the diva snapped at Ubaldo Piangi, the lead baritone. Carlotta said "chorus" as one might say "prison".
Amoret turned away, near tears, and went to wait backstage. It was true, she was proud that she had gotten into the chorus of the Opera Populaire, but....
"I don't give myself airs, do I, Meg?" she asked of young Meg Giry, her friend who was also in the chorus and the daughter of the boxkeeper of Box Five, Madame Giry. Meg raised her eyebrows.
"Non! Of course not, Amoret. Carlotta is just jealous of you," Meg said loyally. Amoret gasped and shook her head, in near horror.
"No...why would the Prima Donna be jealous of me?" Amoret asked in disbelief.
"Because you're younger, prettier and far more talented that she," a voice behind them said. Both girls turned to see the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny coming up to them.
"Mercí, Monsieur le Vicomte, but surely you cannot actually mean that," Amoret murmured.
"Oh, but I do, ma chere mademoiselle," Raoul replied with a smile. He had become rather fond of the chorus girl since his family began its patronage of the Opera.
"Meg! Amoret! Your places!" the harried stage manager gasped to them as he dashed by. Meg and Amoret both laughed.
"Poor dear," Meg said fondly.
"I will be watching, mademoiselles..." Raoul said as he left them to take a seat. He had convinced Poligny and Debienne to let him watch the rehearsal.
***
"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try. When you find that once again, you long to take... AHHHH!" Carlotta screamed suddenly. She was pointing up at Box Five, her eyes wide with panic. Sitting there was the Opera Ghost, as the soon-to-retire managers referred to him.
"The Phantom of the Opera!" Amoret said softly. She had heard the rumors of the mysterious patron, but she had not seen him before this moment.
"Good Heavens, would you show a little courtesy?!" Poligny exclaimed in exasperation.
"Mademoiselle, please!" Debienne put in, soothingly. "These things do happen..." Carlotta glared at him.
"Sí! These things do 'appen! Well, I tell you, stop these things 'appening! *This* thing does *not* 'appen!!" she shrieked at the hapless men who were gathered on the stage.
"Amoret LeRoux could sing it, messieurs!" Meg called to the managers. Amoret turned quickly to stare at her friend. "Meg, what are you..." Amoret asked in a low whisper.
"A chorus girl?" André asked with some condescension. Madame Giry spoke up from the wings, where she was watching her daughter.
"Let her sing for you, messieurs...she has been well taught!" the woman told the managers. Firmin paused in thought, looked over at André, then finally nodded. He gestured Amoret forward from the chorus girls.
Amoret was very nervous, but when she glanced up at the Phantom, her nerves were mysteriously settled. She sang the piece perfectly. As André and Firmin nodded their approval of the young chorus girl, Amoret did not feel Carlotta's eyes burning with hatred for her. What she did feel was the Phantom's strangely proud gaze.
"Who the Devil is that?" Monsieur André asked of Debienne and Poligny. He jerked his head in the direction of Box Five. The Phantom had disappeared.
"Oh, that was the Opera Ghost. He owns the opera," Poligny told him nonchalantly.
"Opera Ghost?!" Firmin burst out. He looked close to laughing...or having a fit. Carlotta looked up at the mention of the Ghost.
"Sí! The Ghost who is always meddling in our business! He is a joke!" she said lightly, her flushed face bearing a look of contempt. Madame Giry stepped out from the wings, an envelope in her hands, her face pale.
"You should not speak like that, signora! If the fantôme hears you..." the good woman hissed with anxiety, forgetting for the moment her errand. Carlotta sniffed but somehow managed to hold her tongue. ~No small task for Carlotta Guidecelli...~
To prevent a melee, Poligny gestured Madame Giry forward. "You had something to say Madame?" he prompted.
"Oui...a note for the messieurs..." she handed the envelope to Firmin. It was labeled "MM. Firmin et André". Firmin opened the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of paper. He read the note aloud.
" 'My dear Messieurs,
It is with deepest regret that I must say I cannot greet you personally and congratulate you on your procurement of my splendid Opera. I believe my staff will perform quite admirably. I also shall remind you, although MM. Poligny and Debienne have of course already informed you, that a salary of 20,000 F is due to me the last of every month. Perhaps with the Comte et Vicomte de Chagny as your patrons, however, you will be able to afford a larger sum. I look forward to your work with my Opera.
Your Obedient Servant,
O.G.'
"A crock! Who does this Ghost think he is?!" Firmin exclaimed, incensed. He handed the note to his partner. André read it and scowled. He tore the paper into pieces and threw them upon the stage.
"20,000 F a month, indeed!" he muttered angrily.
She was a lovely girl, but she was often made to forget this. "Out of my way, little toad! *I* am the Diva!" Carlotta Guidicelli snapped impatiently at poor Amoret, who moved as quickly as her costume would allow. "Some people give themselves such airs, Ubaldo! And simply because they somehow managed to get a place in the chorus!" the diva snapped at Ubaldo Piangi, the lead baritone. Carlotta said "chorus" as one might say "prison".
Amoret turned away, near tears, and went to wait backstage. It was true, she was proud that she had gotten into the chorus of the Opera Populaire, but....
"I don't give myself airs, do I, Meg?" she asked of young Meg Giry, her friend who was also in the chorus and the daughter of the boxkeeper of Box Five, Madame Giry. Meg raised her eyebrows.
"Non! Of course not, Amoret. Carlotta is just jealous of you," Meg said loyally. Amoret gasped and shook her head, in near horror.
"No...why would the Prima Donna be jealous of me?" Amoret asked in disbelief.
"Because you're younger, prettier and far more talented that she," a voice behind them said. Both girls turned to see the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny coming up to them.
"Mercí, Monsieur le Vicomte, but surely you cannot actually mean that," Amoret murmured.
"Oh, but I do, ma chere mademoiselle," Raoul replied with a smile. He had become rather fond of the chorus girl since his family began its patronage of the Opera.
"Meg! Amoret! Your places!" the harried stage manager gasped to them as he dashed by. Meg and Amoret both laughed.
"Poor dear," Meg said fondly.
"I will be watching, mademoiselles..." Raoul said as he left them to take a seat. He had convinced Poligny and Debienne to let him watch the rehearsal.
***
"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try. When you find that once again, you long to take... AHHHH!" Carlotta screamed suddenly. She was pointing up at Box Five, her eyes wide with panic. Sitting there was the Opera Ghost, as the soon-to-retire managers referred to him.
"The Phantom of the Opera!" Amoret said softly. She had heard the rumors of the mysterious patron, but she had not seen him before this moment.
"Good Heavens, would you show a little courtesy?!" Poligny exclaimed in exasperation.
"Mademoiselle, please!" Debienne put in, soothingly. "These things do happen..." Carlotta glared at him.
"Sí! These things do 'appen! Well, I tell you, stop these things 'appening! *This* thing does *not* 'appen!!" she shrieked at the hapless men who were gathered on the stage.
"Amoret LeRoux could sing it, messieurs!" Meg called to the managers. Amoret turned quickly to stare at her friend. "Meg, what are you..." Amoret asked in a low whisper.
"A chorus girl?" André asked with some condescension. Madame Giry spoke up from the wings, where she was watching her daughter.
"Let her sing for you, messieurs...she has been well taught!" the woman told the managers. Firmin paused in thought, looked over at André, then finally nodded. He gestured Amoret forward from the chorus girls.
Amoret was very nervous, but when she glanced up at the Phantom, her nerves were mysteriously settled. She sang the piece perfectly. As André and Firmin nodded their approval of the young chorus girl, Amoret did not feel Carlotta's eyes burning with hatred for her. What she did feel was the Phantom's strangely proud gaze.
"Who the Devil is that?" Monsieur André asked of Debienne and Poligny. He jerked his head in the direction of Box Five. The Phantom had disappeared.
"Oh, that was the Opera Ghost. He owns the opera," Poligny told him nonchalantly.
"Opera Ghost?!" Firmin burst out. He looked close to laughing...or having a fit. Carlotta looked up at the mention of the Ghost.
"Sí! The Ghost who is always meddling in our business! He is a joke!" she said lightly, her flushed face bearing a look of contempt. Madame Giry stepped out from the wings, an envelope in her hands, her face pale.
"You should not speak like that, signora! If the fantôme hears you..." the good woman hissed with anxiety, forgetting for the moment her errand. Carlotta sniffed but somehow managed to hold her tongue. ~No small task for Carlotta Guidecelli...~
To prevent a melee, Poligny gestured Madame Giry forward. "You had something to say Madame?" he prompted.
"Oui...a note for the messieurs..." she handed the envelope to Firmin. It was labeled "MM. Firmin et André". Firmin opened the envelope and withdrew a single sheet of paper. He read the note aloud.
" 'My dear Messieurs,
It is with deepest regret that I must say I cannot greet you personally and congratulate you on your procurement of my splendid Opera. I believe my staff will perform quite admirably. I also shall remind you, although MM. Poligny and Debienne have of course already informed you, that a salary of 20,000 F is due to me the last of every month. Perhaps with the Comte et Vicomte de Chagny as your patrons, however, you will be able to afford a larger sum. I look forward to your work with my Opera.
Your Obedient Servant,
O.G.'
"A crock! Who does this Ghost think he is?!" Firmin exclaimed, incensed. He handed the note to his partner. André read it and scowled. He tore the paper into pieces and threw them upon the stage.
"20,000 F a month, indeed!" he muttered angrily.