Unlike the French in the last chapter, I do know Italian, so enjoy. PLEASE R&R, this is so depressing, writing to no audience. Even if it sucks, tell me it sucks.
Chapter 5: It's All a Ploy
As the music cued up for Hannibal, Christine gently led her daughter to the side of the stage. She tapped Madame Giry's shoulder. The ballet master turned and bestowed her with a dazzling smile. She picked up her cane and nodded.
"It is good to see you. Both of you." She took Clarissa's hand and led her to the back of the stage, where the sets were absent, still being created by stage hands. The back of the stage was empty, where Clarissa could watch, learn, and imitate the other dancers. Madame Giry led them both to just behind Meg and a few other girls. None of the singing chorus, nor Carlotta, were present.
"Ladies!" Madame Giry clapped her hands together and walked to the front. There she stood and barked out orders rapidly The girls lined up on the sides of the stage and raised their hands above their heads. The choreography had begun.
Christine whispered to Clarissa, "Stay back here and watch me. Maybe you can mimic too, no?" Christine, still standing in the back, began to follow Madame Giry's movements.
When the other ballerinas had time, they would glance back at her and either sneer or shake their heads. Meg only smiled at her, or little Clarissa. Apparently the rumor mills had started, and Christine was in danger of being shut out of the circle. The only card she had now, was little Clarissa.
Suddenly, in the middle of the frantic movements, Carlotta burst in the room shouting in Italian.
"Non mi piace! No, no, no!" Piangi followed behind her and they stopped in front of Christine. Christine snatched Clarissa up when they glared at her.
"La Carlotta non canto con una puttana!" The message was clear enough. Christine was wanted to go. She held Clarissa close, who was now whimpering.
Monsieur Firmin came in and held up his hands.
"Signora, why must you constantly interrupt every rehearsal. Let's not begin this all over again."
"Or begin something else, right Christine?" Carlotta waved a little piece of parchment at her. Christine's heart slumped.
"We won't have anymore of these will we?" It was an old note. Christine sighed in relief.
"Carlotta," Firmin started, "she is only here for lessons for her daughter." Carlotta huffed.
"Then why is she dancing too?"
"I'm sorry Madame, but I was just practicing. I haven't had real practice since…"
"Since this place BURNED DOWN! O mio Dio!" Carlotta put a hand to her head. Firmin held up his hands again.
"Madame Daae is not coming back to sing! She is here for her daughter. A respectably married woman does not sing on stage anyway.." He turned red because he remembered Carlotta was married to Piangi.
"That's it! I'm going back to Rome! Arrivaderci, signore! ArrivaderLa, signorina Daae, with the nowhere husband." Carlotta stormed out with Firmin and Piangi on her heels.
All the ballerinas glared at Christine. Clarissa burst out crying after the little snaffoo. Madame Giry came out and shushed the girls.
"Back to your places." She came to Christine.
"I'm so sorry, my dear." Clarissa's face and hands were buried in Christine's shoulder. She shook her head numbly.
"It's all our fault. I know that I shouldn't have comeback. I just miss the stage. Erik told me to try again and…oh Erik, why did I try again?" Christine searched the room with her eyes, in the darkness of the rafters and caught a glimpse of white. She shook her head in that direction.
"Perhaps now with the diva gone, you can. For now, you should go."
Christine nodded and moved out of the room with her crying child. She shook her head along the way. When she reached the pathway leading to the catacombs where Erik met them. She took one look at the half-face she loved so dearly and burst into tears. He took Clarissa with him and put his arm around Christine's shoulders.
"Now you'll be able to sing…aren't you happy?" Chrisitne threw his arm off and shook her head.
"You act as if it's good news that she called me a whore. She denied your existence as my husband, and now the whole of the opera hates me. I'm not happy."
She ran off down the hallway and into the dressing room halls. With his calls for her echoing behind her, she rushed into the old dressing room she use to call home. She shut the door and locked it, only to be faced with someone she hadn't seen in almost four years.
"Raoul!"
