Disclaimer: This is the property of Leroux, Kay, Webber, and Schumacher. Not Moffett. In other words, not me.
To my lovely reviewers, of which there are four:
XxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx: Thank you so very much! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Amanda17: Well, I'd be talking to him on the phone inviting him over for "dinner"…lol…
Raoul's secret lover: Hello, poppet! Yes, of course I'm writing more…you know I'm addicted to those virtual parties! Go Erik, w00t!
andersm: Muchas gracias! Hope you enjoy this one!
Ok, sorry this took so long...my teachers are breathing down my neck for the work I owe them, and I can barely get on the computer. Happy St. Patrick's Day to everyone, and don't mind the extreme crappiness which is this chapter. Better things shall come soon.
Chapter 2 - An Arrival and An Occupation
July 11 was the hottest day Paris had had in 13 years. Modesty was thrown to the winds by most; men went about in just their shirtsleeves, and women went out in the skimpiest things they owned. However, some suffered through the normal amount of layers, for fashion or for modesty.
Erik was looking around for likely partners-in-crime in the cool shadow of a sculpture in the gleaming gold lobby. The chubby, red-faced maids were sweating like mad as they scrubbed the steps, and Antoinette Giry was carrying on a conversation with Chantal Laroque, the lead alto. Chantal was one of the few pleasant divas in the world. However, she was playing the evil Morgan le Fay in the upcoming opera.
Erik heard a carriage pull up outside, and the door opened and closed. Footsteps treaded the stone steps outside, and he tried to guess who it could be. It couldn't be a man, for the footstep was too light. It couldn't be Carlotta, who was always late, because at least 5 of her attendants would be with her, and that infernal dog would be yapping like there was no tomorrow…and plus, he remembered, she had come in early today for a consultation of the decoration of her dressing room. He was pretty sure everyone else was at work today…who could it be?
The door slowly opened, with a blast of scorching air invading the lobby. A tall girl quickly walked in and shut the door behind her. Slowly, she turned around and gaped at the huge entrance hall. Erik could swear her jaw was almost brushing the floor.
Her dress was off the shoulder, but decently modest with its long sleeves. It was dark blue, with a full skirt trailing behind. It showed off her full figure well. Black hair was gathered into a messy bun, with a few strands hanging out. She held a slightly battered suitcase in one of her small hands, and in the other, she held an envelope.
Erik was intrigued. He knew every dancer, singer, and staff member in this place, and this girl was definitely not one of them. She was too tall to be a dancer, and too young to be replacing the head maid, who had been run over by Carlotta's carriage. That left him with two options: either she was going to join the group of demons, more commonly known as chorus girls, or she was going to be an assistant to someone. Still rather interested, he got closer to the scene.
The girl, after having gotten a full view of the glinting foyer, called out timidly, "Antoinette? Is that you?"
Mme. Giry turned around to see the girl standing there. A look of absolute delight broke out on her face. "Nadia! Nadia Laurent! Oh, dearest child, is it really you?" The older woman enveloped the girl in a huge embrace, which the girl happily returned.
The name was familiar to Erik. Where had he heard that name, seen that face? "Of course!" he thought, virtually slapping his forehead with his palm. That was the girl from the photograph he'd seen last night! "Idiot." He grumbled to himself. "You're worse than an old man…you just saw the girl last night, and you've already forgotten her."
While Erik was berating himself for his forgetfulness, the happy reunion was going along just fine. Nadia had been introduced to Chantal, who gave her a warm smile, then excused herself. She was just about to start telling Antoinette about how her family was doing when a look of confusion came on Antoinette's face. "Um…Nadia, not that I'm not delighted to see you, but…why are you here?"
"Oh…forgot about that." Nadia gave a sheepish grin. "Well, as you know, I've always been a decent singer. So, Mother finally let me come here to be a chorus girl! Of course, if that's all right with you, Antoinette." She said hastily, handing the letter to Mme. Giry. The woman took the note, read it through quickly, and then glanced at Nadia.
"It's fine with me, Nadia, but we'll have to consult the managers. If they think you're good enough, then you may stay." She said in a practical tone. "Come, I'll bring you to their office." The two women stepped lightly up the stairs, the younger one telling all about life at the Laurent manor.
Erik was just about to follow when the piercing notes of Carlotta's voice reached his ears. He winced. It looked like he was going to have to ruin yet another of the diva's rehearsals. Glancing regretfully after the two ladies, he quietly slipped through the theater's doors.
As Nadia was led through the halls of the Opera Populaire, she could hardly keep from jumping up and down for joy. She was finally here! She was finally at the place she'd always dreamed of living in! Of course, she'd never be a star, but making a career of singing was good enough for her. Of course, anything was better than having a line of eligible bachelors paraded past her at every social event she went to. Twenty-two was, in her parents' eyes, a perfect age to get married.
Also, her best friend, Meg Giry, worked here as a ballet dancer. Her friend Christine Daaé had worked here too, but she was married, with a baby girl. Besides that, that whole incident with the Opera Ghost had occurred. That was probably very traumatizing. Yet, in a way, it was pretty flattering to have a madman obsess over you.
At last, they reached the manager's office. An overwhelming odor of smoke filled the hallway outside, and Nadia coughed. When Antoinette opened the door, a cloud of cigar smoke emptied into the corridor. Nadia almost choked, but controlled herself as she walked inside after the ballet director.
The room was incredibly dingy compared to the grandeur outside. The curtains, which Nadia was guessing had once been white, were stained yellow, and tattered. The windows were grimy and streaked, as if someone had tried to clean them and given up. As for the room itself, papers were everywhere. Scattered on desks, chairs, the floor, anything with a flat surface. She also thought she saw a few wine bottles sticking out of drawers.
The managers themselves were nice enough; well-groomed and polite, even though they were partially hidden in a cloud of cigar smoke. They greeted the women cordially, than bade Nadia take a seat, which she politely declined.
"All right, Mademoiselle." Monsieur Ambler took a piece of paper out of a drawer. "We just have to conduct a little job interview first, and then you can be off. Name?"
"Nadia Adrienne Mallory Laurent." Nadia promptly replied, brushing the few dark strands of hair out of her face.
"Age?" Ambler's pen was scribbling furiously at the paper.
"Twenty-two."
"Former occupation?"
"None, sir."
"And you want to become a chorus girl, correct?" Ambler eyed the obviously nervous girl.
"Yes, sir."
"Well, let's hear you sing a bit, and you'll be all set." The other manager, Follett, took a long drag from his cigar and stared at her expectantly.
Nadia sang a few lines from the opera The Magic Flute. Mme. Giry looked approvingly as the girl sang, a smile on her lips. The girl's voice matched her appearance; it wasn't flashy, or overdone, but pretty in a modest sort of way. Her voice was an alto, but at times it leaned towards mezzo-soprano. She finished and looked timidly at the managers.
Follett and Ambler looked at each other briefly. Then Follett stood up and shook Nadia's hand. "Congratulatons, Mademoiselle." he said politely. "You're hired."
Nadia smiled, thanked the men politely, and exited. The managers had just settled down again when they heard a shriek.
"YES! DidyouhearAntoinetteIgotitIgotit! FINALLY!"
The managers glanced at each other again and smirked.
"Wait till she sees what she works with. Then we'll hear a different shriek." Follett chuckled.
A/N: Yes, I know it was crappy, but it'll get better. I promise. In the next chapter, our friend Nadia will be meeting a few people, some friends, some...well, not. Once again, happy St. Patrick's Day! Farewell!