Chapter Five
"L'Opera Populaire!"
Claire sat at her Vanity the next morning, her cheek leaning against the palm of her hand. She was counting away the minutes until noon and her lesson with Erik. She gave a great start when someone knocked hard on her door.
"Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle!" it was on of the maids.
"Come in." Called Claire. The door opened and a rather harassed looking maid ran in holding a newspaper clipping.
"Mademoiselle, oh it's wonderful! They said I shouldn't tell you—but I know how you love music!" Exclaimed the maid.
"Emma!" Cried Claire for 'Emma' was the name of the maid, Claire knew her very well. "Calm down and just tell me what this all about."
Emma pushed the newspaper clipping under Claire's nose. "See? L'Opera Populaire is going to be reopened!"
Claire snatched the newspaper clipping and read it and then read it again to make sure her eyes weren't fooling her. It clearly stated that Mademoiselle Meg Giry had bought L'Opera Populaire and was beginning renovations! "My God!" Claire felt as though her dreams were coming true. A real Opera House! She could sneak out and see Operas when her father and the staff weren't looking! A real Opera House! —But wait, if the Opera House was being renovated then how could she get to her lessons with Erik?
"You should sign up right away!" Beamed Emma.
Claire snapped out of her thoughts. "What?"
"Read the bottom of the page." Said Emma giggling.
Claire read: Auditions for the corps de ballet, and chorus will be held January 11th at L'Opera Populaire.
"I know you will make it in, Mademoiselle." Said Emma winking and taking back the paper. She curtsied and left the room with another wink.
Claire nearly collapsed onto the floor. Auditions! Auditions for L'Opera Populaire! She could be on stage! Her dream, she could almost see it. But Erik…
"I thought I would find you here, Mademoiselle."
Claire nearly shrieked. She spun around then sighed in relief. "Erik! I was just thinking about how we would continue our lessons what with L'Opera being bought and all..." She trailed off. She had just remembered that Erik referred to that Opera House as 'his'. "How did you get in here?" Asked Claire suddenly feeling a draft and shivering.
"Why the doors of course." Erik waved at the glass doors, one of which was still a crack open.
"Oh!" Claire crossed to the doors and closed them.
"Now, Mademoiselle, we have two weeks 'til those auditions of yours. We'd best get busy." Said Erik seriously.
The two weeks that followed were filled with nothing but music, music, and music. Erik taught Claire in her room, it was in the East Wing away from most of the household making it perfect for lessons. The lessons themselves were long and hard and tired Claire out. But still it seemed to her that all too soon the day of the auditions arrived.
She sat at her dressing table pulling back parts of her hair in golden clips. She wore a very plane black dress with no fringes or frills, the skirt wasn't even very full. She wanted to look proper but not particularly rich. Since she had signed in under her mother's maiden of Daaé and since her father wasn't all that well known (despite his title) with any luck she might be able to go unrecognized as a Vicomtess. Meaning she would get in (if she did indeed get into the Opera) by means of talent not title. Little did she know that the name of "Daaé" carried more with it then the title of Vicomtess de Chagny when it came to L'Opera.
Claire finally finished with her hair, stood and walked quickly out of her room and down the stairs. She gathered her cape and left the house heading for L'Opera Populaire and her future! She walked through the snowy streets clutching her sheet music to her chest. She could not loose one sheet of the precious music Erik gave her. She finally reached L'Opera House. She went inside and was taken a back by the crowds of men, women, young girls and boys all crowding into the Entrance alone. Claire found herself being pushed and shoved this way and that by the crowd. The noise from the crowd alone was overwhelming, everyone talking at once creating waves of never ending noise. So many people…there's no way I'm getting in to even audition.
"Miss Daaé!"
Claire looked around she thought she'd hear her name among the endless babble.
"Miss Daaé! Has anyone seen Miss Daaé?"
And then Claire saw a very stern-looking woman pushing her way through the crowd. Her red hair was pulled into a tight bun; she stood very straight and had an air of importance.
"Miss Daaé!"
Claire worked her way to the woman.
"I am Miss Daaé." She said loudly over the noise of the crowd.
"Ah," Said the woman. "Of course. The family resemblance is striking."
Claire was taken aback by this. How could this woman know her mother's side of the family? Claire didn't even know anyone on her mother's side!
"De Opera Ghost has ordered for you to audition at once. Come with me."
Claire had no time to react for the woman was walking away. Claire hurried after her trying to put together what all was happening. She did not—or could not—understand what was going on. Who was "the Opera Ghost"? And how did he know her? After a long time of pushing through the crowds they suddenly emerged on the stage. Claire was blinded for a moment by the stage lights before her eyes adjusted. She was on the far edge of stage right of the huge proscenium stage; there was a piano at the far end of stage left with an old female pianist. And in the front row of the audience sat a very old woman (she looked to be father's age at least) she held an envelop in her hand and she starred fixedly at Claire. And as Claire looked up she gasped. There was a huge, crystal, Chandelier hanging from the high ceiling over the audience! And it shown with the new 'Electric Light'! Claire could feel her very insides flutter. She gulped. This was it. This was the moment she'd waited for her whole life.
"Give me your sheet music." Said the grave woman who had brought her to the stage.
Claire started but handed her music to the woman. The woman took the music to the pianist.
Claire's heart was pounding wildly in her chest as she timidly took center stage. The piano hit the first note, Claire waited for her cue, and her hands were icy and shook. Then it was her cue; she opened her mouth and,
"You have brought me
To that moment when words run dry
To that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence"Her voice rang out clear and crisp despite her paleness and trimmers. She took a breath.
"I have come here
Hardly knowing the reason why
In my mind I've already imagined
Our bodies entwining
Defenseless and silent"Claire could not help the slight blush that always came to her cheeks every time she sang those lines. She had to concentrate on singing and not on the images flooding her mind.
"And now I am here with you
No second thoughts
I've decided, decided"Claire was expecting someone to stop her. In auditions they stop you after about 30 seconds. But no one said anything and the piano kept playing so she went on. Strength and confidence were finally beginning to ebb their way into her body and voice.
"Past the point of no return
No going back now
Our Passion play has now at last begun"Claire was beginning to be lost in the music and the words. A passion that she had never felt before was filling every last fiber of her being.
"Past the thought of "right" or "wrong"
One final question
How long should we two wait before we're one
When will the blood begin to race?
The sleeping bud burst into bloom
When will the flames at last consume us?"
Claire no longer saw the stage, the woman in the audience, or the stage lights. She was singing her heart out as if to someone, she could feel the presence of that someone all around her. She could almost hear another voice singing with her.
"Past the point of no return
The final threshold
The bridge is crossed
So stand and watch it burn!
We've passed the point of no return"Claire came back to herself as the piano played its final note. She was out of breath and felt very faint. And then she heard it; the woman in the audience was standing on her feet and…clapping! Claire did not know what to do now so she made a small curtsy.
"I have never," said the old woman that Claire assumed to be Madam Meg Giry. "Heard such a beautiful voice such as yours since your mother left us."
"How do you all know my mother?" Blurted Claire before she could stop herself.
"Do you not know?" Asked Madam Giry. "You're mother was the star of L'Opera Populaire for a short time and my dear friend."
"My-my mother was?" Stuttered Claire.
"Indeed." Said the stern woman giving her back her sheet music. "We'll make arrangements with de property master. He'll find a room for you. In other words: you're in."
Claire nearly fainted again. "Oh, thank you!" But a red flag suddenly went up in her mind. "Wait, I won't be staying here will I? I mean, my father will never agree."
"Oh, de Vicomte," said the stern woman. "I can understand that he wouldn't want you here. We will take care of that. You needn't worry. Now go."
Claire made one last curtsy and left the stage fighting her way back through the crowd. She was still doubtful that her father would let her live at L'Opera Populaire. Her once happy, shining moment was now darkened. Claire reached her home—or rather house it had never really been a home to her—and let herself in. She took off her cape and went to her room before Emma could found her or her father for the matter of that. She closed her door leaning against it for support. She took deep breaths trying to steady herself. There was no way her father would willing let her be in an Opera House. She might have made it in but it didn't matter now, her dreams were still beyond her reach. She sighed when she heard a soft voice whisper,
"Brava, Brava!"
"Erik…" But when she opened her eyes there was no one in the room with her. She opened her mouth to say something but a sharp knock at the door made her stop short. She opened the door. "Yes?"
The nurse was standing in the doorway. "There is a visitor for you, miss. He's in the drawing room." She curtsied (if you could call it that, it was so small and slight one might not know it for what it was) and left.
"Let me guess," Said Claire frowning. "The Comte de Gabriel." She left her room, went down the stairs and into the drawing room. And, sure enough, waiting there was the Comte de Gabriel.
"My lady." He bowed deeply.
"Comte." Claire merely gave a curt curtsy. "What brings you here?"
"I know I am without your favor," said the Comte giving another bow. "But I came in hopes that we might at the least be friends."
"In other words," Said Claire coolly. "My father asked you to come in order to try and win my affections."
"No," said the Comte almost bowing again. "Your father has nothing to do with my visit."
Claire did not believe it for a moment. "Indeed, Monsieur." She sat in one of the armchairs. She let the silence stretch out wanting to make the Comte uncomfortable. And indeed he did look rather nervous, he wiped his brow as he sat in a chair opposite Claire.
"So…" Said the Comte obviously searching for something to say. "Did you hear about that old Opera House reopening? L'Opera something or other."
"L'Opera Populaire." Corrected Claire.
"Ah, yes, that's it L'Opera Populaire!"
"Yes, I heard about it. Why? Do you have a care for Opera, Comte?" Asked Claire less then interested in the answer. She couldn't care less what the Comte's opinion about Opera was.
"Yes, I am rather fond of Opera. And actually I had heard that at the opening of L'Opera Populaire there will be a performance of Hannibal and a Masquerade Ball afterwards. And, well, I had hoped you would do me the honor of coming with me to it."
Claire was taken aback for a moment. She was not sure she wanted to go to Hannibal since she would have been in it if it were not for her insufferable father who would surely squash her dreams. But then she had always wanted to see an Opera! And she had never been to a Masquerade—but to have to go with the Comte…
"Well? Will you come?" Asked the Comte looking a bit more then nervous.
"Yes, I think I will." Said Claire a bit too stiffly to sound truly happy about it. "Now, if you don't mind, Monsieur, I most take my leave."
"Oh, of course!" The Comte jumped up and bowed as Claire left.
Claire felt faint for the fourth time that day. She barely made it to her room before collapsing onto the floor. She did not cry but she trembled as though she was, she felt her dreams slipping away. She had wanted to be in L'Opera but she had not stopped to think if it were even possible with her father still living. Why did not her father die instead of her mother? At that thought Claire really did cry. But then two warm arms closed around her and a familiar voice whispered,
"Tears do not suit you, Mademoiselle."
"Erik…" Sighed Claire leaning back into his embrace. "What am I to do?" She had only known Erik for barely over two weeks yet she trusted him completely and even she herself did not know why.
Erik did not reply but helped her to her feet still standing behind her. His arms fell from her.
Claire turned around and gazed into his half-covered face. What was behind that white mask? What was it he hid from her? "Erik…let me see your face."
Erik silently shook his head.
"Why? What is it you hide?" She asked almost pleading. "I've given you my voice, I hid nothing from you. Why do you hide from me?" For a brief moment Claire thought Erik was about to cry, all the sadness of the world showing itself in his eyes those deep centers of emotion.
"Claire," Said Erik just above a whisper. "There are some things best left in the darkness." He reached out a hand and touched Claire's cheek. "Some things you should not have to bare. I wish only to teach you music I do not wish to harm you." His hand dropped from Claire's cheek.
Claire stood there unable to speak a word. This Angel—no, this man—that stood before her seemed the carrier of every hurt the world held. What could have happened to him to make him this way?
"Come," Said Erik seeming normal once again. "We are late for our lesson."