Chapter One- The Opera Populaire
Rene had heard the stories of the Phantom of the Opera. She new that it had been only 5 years sense the building had been rebuilt after the terrible fire. She knew that most people blamed the fire on the 'Opera Ghost'. She didn't believe them. She didn't believe in ghosts. She was far too rational for that, but still, standing in front of the Opera Populaire on that cold night, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She had heard of the girl that was pulled by the phantom down into the labyrinth below the opera house, but there was no way she believed it. "No… of course not." she thought to herself.
She looked up to the roof of the theater. She thought she almost saw the outline of a man standing atop the building, but she blinked and it was gone. "Stop it!" she scolding herself within her head. "Such foolish things are children's games. I'm almost 19-years-old. I'm too old for this sort of silliness."
Rene rubbed the back of her neck. She willed the hair back there to lay flat.
It all ignored her.
Rene began humming a song that her mother had once hummed to her a child. Her
voice seemed to want to join the melody, but she couldn't remember all of the words,
so as she began walking up the stairs she hummed lightly to herself.
A girl who seemed to Rene to be in her mid-twenties came out of the front doors of the Opera. The girl held a lamp in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. The girl walked over to Rene. She looked up at her, as Rene was almost 2 inches taller than the other girl. They both stopped and stared at each other, neither wanting to be the first to speak.
The girl had blonde hair and soft eyes. She seemed bored with the silence and finally spoke. Her voice was also soft and she spoke with much propriety. "Are you mademoiselle Delacour?" She asked. Rene Nodded. The girl shifted the paper to the hand with a lamp and held her hand out. Rene shook it and was surprised to find that the girl had a very firm grip. "My mane is Meg Giry. I will be your guide for your first week here at the Opera Populaire."
Although Meg's words were meant to be extremely formal, Meg could not help but automatically like the new dancer, and she found there was something in the girls face that reminded her of a friend she used to have. Her green eyes were the only difference. Her dark hair and soft features were almost eerily like unto Meg's dearest friend. A friend she missed dearly. A friend who could not return to the Opera Populaire for the fear of the spirit that lived far beneath it.
