A/n: Hi all. I've won our little contest...perhaps I'll post our stories on
Fiction Press sometime. What do you think?
I've just noticed that I've numbered two chapters 'Chapter Three'...I'll go back and fix that soon!
Once again, I would like to thank my reviewers. Next chapter I shall have a list of them.
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own the song Candle on the Water. I do not know who owns Phantom, but Disney, however, owns Candle on the Water. Candle on the Water is from the movie Pete's Dragon.
I do not know how auditions at an Opera house truly work, or anything about French currency, so it's all just guess-work.
Oh, by the way, I've decided to use // for italics. I saw it in a number of fanfics, and decided it would work better then the way I'd been doing it.
Please enjoy.
~
Chapter Five, Auditions
Emily sighed and opened her eyes. Had she ever had a better nights sleep? She pulled the blanket off of her, and sat up. She glanced around he small, humble room and sighed again. From the way the sunlight came through the window, you could almost feel as if you were in heaven. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Emily got up and walked over to a small wooden chair in her room. On it was a small pile of clothes. She pulled out a short-sleeved lavender one, took off her nightgown, and put it on, humming Let Me In. She opened her door after turning off her gas lamp, and went downstairs.
She opened her mouth to greet her guest, only to find he wasn't there.
"Monsieur?" she asked, looking around. She glanced into the kitchen, but he wasn't in there. She went upstairs and searched everywhere, being careful not to wake Emma. He was no where to be found. She searched the extremely small garden in the back and the front, but he was no where to be found.
She finally glanced at the piano after coming back inside. There was a note written in the ink she used to write letters to her sisters. She picked the note up, and found, surprisingly, fifty francs behind it. After marveling over them, she read the note.
/Mademoiselle Lamb,
Please accept this as my payment and thanks for all your help. I hope that one day our paths may cross once again.
And if I may leave you a bit of advice, try searching for work at the Opera.
Erik/
Emily set the note aside. So, her guest was gone. Emma would not be happy.
/The Opera?/ Emily thought. She'd would have never /dreamed/ of trying to work there. Not only was her voice not quite good enough, but there...well, she would most certainly never fit in.
"Em'ly? Where's Erik?" came a sleepy voice.
"I think he went home, Emma."
"Why?"
Emily smiled.
"He probably had a family or someone wanting him back. Besides, Emma, he couldn't stay here forever."
"Why?"
"Because...because he has his own life to lead, his own home. People who counted on him. He needed to go home."
"Why?"
"Okay, Emma, now you're trying to be annoying."
"Yes, I am." Emma said giggling. Emily picked up the money again, and took a piece of pottery from a shelf to put it in.
"Why'd he go without saying goodbye?"
"I don't know, Emma."
"What's that?"
"He gave this to us. It's money. We're going to save it, for just in case."
"Okay." Emma said, coming down the stairs.
"Will we talk to him again?"
"I don't know."
"Alright."
Emma sat on the couch, and Emily went to get a broom to sweep up the remains of the piece of pottery.
"Are you gonna visit Mama soon?"
"Yes, Emily."
"Can I come?"
"Yes."
"Yay!"
Emily began thinking.
/Well...maybe I can get a minor job there. Like cleaning or something. I have rather gotten used to sweeping after breaking so many things in my life./ Emily thought about that for a moment. /And to be near all that music...oh! Yet it would be torture, not to able to sing with them. But perhaps by observing I can learn how to sing correctly. Wouldn't that be wonderful?/
While daydreaming, Emily was not watching what she was doing and bumped into a picture on the wall, and that fell, smashing the glass in the frame. Emily sighed.
At least she was used to this.
***
Emily knocked timidly on the door, after telling Emma not to make a sound and not to disturb anyone in the hallway.
"Come in." came a sharp voice from inside the manager's office.
"Pardon me, Monsieur," Emily said, closing the door behind her, "My name is Emily Lamb and-"
"Yes, Mademoiselle Lamb, we got the letter. What are you auditioning with?" a rather plump man said.
"Pardon me? I didn't-"
"Your song, Mademoiselle?" asked a small, frail looking man.
"Well...I wasn't really expecting-"
"Please, do not waste our time, Mademoiselle Lamb." The plump man said sharply.
"Well...the Candle on the Water." Emily said, confused still, but giving in.
"Begin, then." The plump man said impatiently.
"}I'll be your Candle on the Water.
My love for you will always burn.
I know you're lost, and drifting.
But the clouds are lifting.
Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn.
I'll be you're Candle on the Water.
'Til ev'ry wave is warm and bright.
My soul is there, beside you,
Let this Candle guide you.
Soon you'll see a golden stream of light.
A cold and friendless tide has found you.
Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down.
I'll paint a ray of hope around you,
Circling in the air,
Lighted by a prayer.
I'll be your Candle on the Water.
This flame inside of me will grow.
Keep holding on, you'll make it.
Here's my hand, so take it.
Look for me, reaching out to show,
As sure as rivers flow,
I'll never let you go.
I'll never let you go.
I'll never let you go.{"
The managers paused.
"Alright then, choir ought to do." The plump man said.
The frail man said something, and both looked upset. The frail man took out a piece of paper and handed it to Emily.
"Please sign this." He said.
Emily took the piece of paper and the pen the man had handed her, read the contact, then signed it. As she handed it back, she thought (with wonder)-
/Well, It's official now. I work at the Opera./
"Very good." The plump man said, looking it over. "You begin in tomorrow at seven AM. Go to the stage."
"Yes, Monsieur."
"You are free to leave now, Mademoiselle." The frail man said.
"Yes, Monsieur." She said, and turned to leave.
"Wait, Monsieur?" she asked.
"Yes?" the plump man said, testily.
"I was wondering rather I could see the letter?"
"No, Mademoiselle." The frail one said quickly.
"Oh...alright." Emily said, and walked out.
"Well? Well? Well?" Emma asked.
"I'm in the choir." Emma said, shocked.
"YAY!" Emma shouted.
"Shh, Emma! Honestly, sometimes you are far to energetic for your own good!" Emily said with a smile.
"Mama said that about you."
"Well...yes, she did." Emily said, surprised Emma could remember.
"Can we go see Mama now?"
"Alright." Emily said. "But first let's get some flowers for her."
"Okay." Emma said happily.
They walked outside, got Ivory, and then went shopping for flowers.
They found beautiful tiger lilies. Mama's favorites.
~
Well, yet another short chapter, but I think I'm going to start working on the next one already. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!
Oh, yes, and my friends thought this was Firmin and Andre. They, indeed, are not. They are my own creation. Firmin and Andre have resigned, tired of the Phantom. And who can blame them?
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail
I've just noticed that I've numbered two chapters 'Chapter Three'...I'll go back and fix that soon!
Once again, I would like to thank my reviewers. Next chapter I shall have a list of them.
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own the song Candle on the Water. I do not know who owns Phantom, but Disney, however, owns Candle on the Water. Candle on the Water is from the movie Pete's Dragon.
I do not know how auditions at an Opera house truly work, or anything about French currency, so it's all just guess-work.
Oh, by the way, I've decided to use // for italics. I saw it in a number of fanfics, and decided it would work better then the way I'd been doing it.
Please enjoy.
~
Chapter Five, Auditions
Emily sighed and opened her eyes. Had she ever had a better nights sleep? She pulled the blanket off of her, and sat up. She glanced around he small, humble room and sighed again. From the way the sunlight came through the window, you could almost feel as if you were in heaven. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Emily got up and walked over to a small wooden chair in her room. On it was a small pile of clothes. She pulled out a short-sleeved lavender one, took off her nightgown, and put it on, humming Let Me In. She opened her door after turning off her gas lamp, and went downstairs.
She opened her mouth to greet her guest, only to find he wasn't there.
"Monsieur?" she asked, looking around. She glanced into the kitchen, but he wasn't in there. She went upstairs and searched everywhere, being careful not to wake Emma. He was no where to be found. She searched the extremely small garden in the back and the front, but he was no where to be found.
She finally glanced at the piano after coming back inside. There was a note written in the ink she used to write letters to her sisters. She picked the note up, and found, surprisingly, fifty francs behind it. After marveling over them, she read the note.
/Mademoiselle Lamb,
Please accept this as my payment and thanks for all your help. I hope that one day our paths may cross once again.
And if I may leave you a bit of advice, try searching for work at the Opera.
Erik/
Emily set the note aside. So, her guest was gone. Emma would not be happy.
/The Opera?/ Emily thought. She'd would have never /dreamed/ of trying to work there. Not only was her voice not quite good enough, but there...well, she would most certainly never fit in.
"Em'ly? Where's Erik?" came a sleepy voice.
"I think he went home, Emma."
"Why?"
Emily smiled.
"He probably had a family or someone wanting him back. Besides, Emma, he couldn't stay here forever."
"Why?"
"Because...because he has his own life to lead, his own home. People who counted on him. He needed to go home."
"Why?"
"Okay, Emma, now you're trying to be annoying."
"Yes, I am." Emma said giggling. Emily picked up the money again, and took a piece of pottery from a shelf to put it in.
"Why'd he go without saying goodbye?"
"I don't know, Emma."
"What's that?"
"He gave this to us. It's money. We're going to save it, for just in case."
"Okay." Emma said, coming down the stairs.
"Will we talk to him again?"
"I don't know."
"Alright."
Emma sat on the couch, and Emily went to get a broom to sweep up the remains of the piece of pottery.
"Are you gonna visit Mama soon?"
"Yes, Emily."
"Can I come?"
"Yes."
"Yay!"
Emily began thinking.
/Well...maybe I can get a minor job there. Like cleaning or something. I have rather gotten used to sweeping after breaking so many things in my life./ Emily thought about that for a moment. /And to be near all that music...oh! Yet it would be torture, not to able to sing with them. But perhaps by observing I can learn how to sing correctly. Wouldn't that be wonderful?/
While daydreaming, Emily was not watching what she was doing and bumped into a picture on the wall, and that fell, smashing the glass in the frame. Emily sighed.
At least she was used to this.
***
Emily knocked timidly on the door, after telling Emma not to make a sound and not to disturb anyone in the hallway.
"Come in." came a sharp voice from inside the manager's office.
"Pardon me, Monsieur," Emily said, closing the door behind her, "My name is Emily Lamb and-"
"Yes, Mademoiselle Lamb, we got the letter. What are you auditioning with?" a rather plump man said.
"Pardon me? I didn't-"
"Your song, Mademoiselle?" asked a small, frail looking man.
"Well...I wasn't really expecting-"
"Please, do not waste our time, Mademoiselle Lamb." The plump man said sharply.
"Well...the Candle on the Water." Emily said, confused still, but giving in.
"Begin, then." The plump man said impatiently.
"}I'll be your Candle on the Water.
My love for you will always burn.
I know you're lost, and drifting.
But the clouds are lifting.
Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn.
I'll be you're Candle on the Water.
'Til ev'ry wave is warm and bright.
My soul is there, beside you,
Let this Candle guide you.
Soon you'll see a golden stream of light.
A cold and friendless tide has found you.
Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down.
I'll paint a ray of hope around you,
Circling in the air,
Lighted by a prayer.
I'll be your Candle on the Water.
This flame inside of me will grow.
Keep holding on, you'll make it.
Here's my hand, so take it.
Look for me, reaching out to show,
As sure as rivers flow,
I'll never let you go.
I'll never let you go.
I'll never let you go.{"
The managers paused.
"Alright then, choir ought to do." The plump man said.
The frail man said something, and both looked upset. The frail man took out a piece of paper and handed it to Emily.
"Please sign this." He said.
Emily took the piece of paper and the pen the man had handed her, read the contact, then signed it. As she handed it back, she thought (with wonder)-
/Well, It's official now. I work at the Opera./
"Very good." The plump man said, looking it over. "You begin in tomorrow at seven AM. Go to the stage."
"Yes, Monsieur."
"You are free to leave now, Mademoiselle." The frail man said.
"Yes, Monsieur." She said, and turned to leave.
"Wait, Monsieur?" she asked.
"Yes?" the plump man said, testily.
"I was wondering rather I could see the letter?"
"No, Mademoiselle." The frail one said quickly.
"Oh...alright." Emily said, and walked out.
"Well? Well? Well?" Emma asked.
"I'm in the choir." Emma said, shocked.
"YAY!" Emma shouted.
"Shh, Emma! Honestly, sometimes you are far to energetic for your own good!" Emily said with a smile.
"Mama said that about you."
"Well...yes, she did." Emily said, surprised Emma could remember.
"Can we go see Mama now?"
"Alright." Emily said. "But first let's get some flowers for her."
"Okay." Emma said happily.
They walked outside, got Ivory, and then went shopping for flowers.
They found beautiful tiger lilies. Mama's favorites.
~
Well, yet another short chapter, but I think I'm going to start working on the next one already. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!
Oh, yes, and my friends thought this was Firmin and Andre. They, indeed, are not. They are my own creation. Firmin and Andre have resigned, tired of the Phantom. And who can blame them?
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail