Chapter 15

Days passed by, taking with them the week of mourning. People began living their lives as if nothing had happened, continuing on with their work with as much rigor as before. Monsieur D'aubigne began to play a less active role in the productivity of the opera house as he took to spending hours alone in his office, exhibiting the common characteristics of a recluse. Since the death of his wife he had no re-entered her room or parlor and, although he was never a particularly garrulous man to begin with, he became reticent in all of his relations. The directors understood the reasons behind the sudden change in his occupational and social behaviors and gladly took on the extra responsibilities that he had once held. He was rarely seen outside of the sanctuary of his office, except to join his daughter for breakfast and an occasional dinner during which he would sit and stare at his plate, sometimes attempting a sparse conversation.

Elle, on the other hand, did not completely cease all human interaction. During the week of grieving she too isolated herself, frequently refusing to see Nadia and Hector. The only person she would speak to was the Opera Ghost when he visited her, which he began to do more often. It did not take her long to realize that the only way that could stop the loss she felt was through singing, and it made her feel better to think that wherever her mother was she was watching down on her, listening to the music she produced. It was a hopeful thought that aided in bringing her through the rough trials of bereavement for the woman who raised her.

Her instructor could not be more pleased with his pupil. Yes, she had suffered a great tragedy, but it did wonders to her voice. This abrupt alteration thrilled him; Elle had never before sung with such open emotion and tenderness. The night that he had first introduced her to his lair, even though he was aware that she was convinced it had been a fanciful dream, she had sang without any apprehension or reservations. Now she sang like that, except on a higher level. It was like Elle was attempting to sing to the angels themselves, meanwhile subconsciously using every bit of advice that he ever gave her. He was excited that his efforts had not gone to waste. For some reason he was not surprised that an event so tragic could reveal something so beautiful. Even so, the mournful tones with which she often sang made her a perfect candidate for his music, if he so wished to invite her to do so. Understandably he still held uncertainties due to experiences with his previous student.

When the next week began, Elle found something else to immerse herself in. She continued on with her music, but also dedicated herself to the new production. Her father had mostly given up on his work, yet his daughter took an active role in the opera house in his stead. The young woman decided that it would be a good thing to take up her time during the day, for her teacher mostly visited her at night. She began to attend every single meeting. Elle had not auditioned for a part in the performance, but she knew more about what was going on than any of the people who did. The directors allowed her to watch and give aid when needed; they thought that participation in anything would be the cure for her woe so that she would not end up becoming withdrawn like her father.

The directors had decided on their cast list before the funeral, but they had to hold off on presenting it to anyone. Elle was the first outsider, so to speak, to see it. Her intelligent eyes scanned the parchment while her mind carefully cast its judgment on the men's decisions. They did not notice the expression of disapproval in her eyes, nor did they care. The rehearsals were to begin promptly the next day, with a focus on the main two characters. Meanwhile Madame Giry was set to begin teaching the dances to the chorus girls. Everyone there was already familiar with the opera, the choice had been announced before the death of Madame D'aubigne and therefore those who did not know it had a week to learn.

The role of Juliette, predictably, was handed over to Estelle. She was their prima donna, and they seemed convinced that if she remained in the spotlight that the money would continue to roll in. Isabel, whose voice was more deserving of the lead female role, was given the part of Romeo's page Stephano. The character was male, but it was created for a soprano and had a solo, so she was simply to dress as a man. The part of Romeo went to Maximilien, not for the same reasons as with Estelle but because he was the best tenor available and already under contract.

There were new people that got distinguished roles as well, and some Elle recognized. The woman who was to play Gertrude, Juliette's nurse, was the hefty mezzo-soprano. That was a smart match, for not only was her voice proper for the part, she physically fit the role. Also another person that had made an impression on Elle while she watched the auditions from the audience quietly was given a role, the young man with blond curls. He secured himself the part of Mercutio, who had a solo and several appearances in the opera. These roles were a privilege to those who had yet to make themselves a name in the business of theatre, but Elle knew that they deserved it.

The first several rehearsals went surprisingly well. There were as of yet no conflicts between the performers and everyone seemed to be preparing faster than it took last time for the performance of Carmen. Elle was early to each rehearsal, silently studying the directors and other participants as they worked. She soon learned if not everyone by name, then by face, and became accustomed to the habits and preferences of the directors. They rarely noticed her observing glance and when they did they thought nothing of it. The two men were easily distracted, always seemed to be preoccupied by something to notice the little things taking place around them.

One morning Elle slipped from her room automatically, walking with a purpose with the theatre as her destination. She was headed there for another ordinary rehearsal. Only a few stagehands that were setting up the stage for that day's practice beat her there, and none of them looked up as she took dainty steps towards the front of the room, the small heels of her shoes making soft patters on the carpeted floor. Everyone had become used to her daily presence, so if she had not shown then it would have been considered odd. Her eyes scanned the area, and then she took a seat in the first row, quiet except for the adjustments that she was making to her skirts. When she looked up again she saw that people were beginning to stir on stage and slowly replace the stagehands.

As usual the performers emerged from the wings of the stage, ready to take their places and begin the end of act three. Nadia amiably waved to Elle from the back of the chorus before returning her attention to the girls around her. They whispered to each other until they heard a harsh word from Madame Giry, which would cause them to stop talking and giggle behind her back in defiance. Maximilien entered the stage with Isabel; his leading lady was always the last to arrive. The blond man, Elle soon found that his name was Jacob and that he was Scandinavian, hurried onto the platform behind them. He would not have much to contribute to this rehearsal, because his character dies where they were supposed to be starting at, but he was dedicated to the production so he took it seriously. Several more people followed his lead, and soon the stage was almost full.

Then the prima donna chose to make her entrance. She stepped onto the stage, standing still until everyone cleared a path for her. Her presence was not yet necessary, she was not needed until the next scene, but she probably wanted to see the directors before they began. Elle saw disappointment in the woman's face when she saw that only Elle was sitting out in the audience, which was exaggerated due to the excess of make-up that was applied to her skin. Without saying a word to her, Estelle turned around and strutted her way over to Maximilien. They exchanged words, which never turned out pleasant for they did not get along off stage, and then she started her way back to the right wing, scuffing her heels on the boards as she went.

It was obvious that the directors were late, yet no one seemed to complain. They took this tardiness as a chance to socialize with their fellow performers. Right as Estelle was stepping out of Elle's view, the doors to the theatre flung open. Tremaine and Bolster stepped through the doorway, carelessly letting the doors to slam closed behind them as they proceeded up the aisle. At that moment everyone's eyes turned to watch them ascend up to where Elle was sitting. Estelle stopped walking and turned to see them, glancing for a second before continuing off the stage. The directors sat down without a word, Mister Bolster wiping his forehead with a white handkerchief that Elle saw him pull out of his coat pocket. Mister Tremaine's lips were drawn tight at his mouth, and they both seemed strangely out of sorts. The girl could not help noticing that they seemed a bit annoyed about something, but they obviously were not about to voice their concerns.

Instead they sat there for a moment, gaining back their equanimity, before Bolster slipped the piece of fabric back in his pocket and looked at his partner as a signal to begin. With one word accompanied by a gesture, Tremaine ordered the maestro to start up the music as Jacob took out his sword and began fighting with the man who played Tybalt. Then he 'died' and exited the stage, leaving Maximilien to take center stage. The directors watched on near Elle, but they did not have the same level of concentration on the scene as they normally had. Elle's eyes, on the contrary, were lively as they observed the dramatic turning point in the opera.

When the scene ended with the chorus crying out, many people began clearing off of the stage to make way for the beginning of the next act. Act four began with a duet between Romeo and Juliette, one that Elle knew very well through her lessons with the Opera Ghost, so everyone else was not needed there at the moment. Not only was Elle well-versed with those duets, but from attending each rehearsal she grew to know the entire opera by heart. Sometimes while getting dressed or taking a walk around the building, she would mindlessly began singing lines from Romeo Et Juliette under her breath, although it was only when she was alone.

Estelle clunked her way onto the stage, taking place opposite Maximilien. The stagehands had set part of the scene up as Juliette's bedroom during the short break; of course everything did not need to be set, only the props that were necessary for the scene. The prima donna took a seat in a lavish armchair, waiting for her queue to begin. When it was given she began to sing, constantly turning her gaze back and forth from Maximilien and the directors. Not once did she look at Elle. The leading man responded with his part, and Elle had to listen through the duet. Their recital was anything but sublime; Estelle may be able to sing, but she was definitely no actress. The duet demanded emotion and there simply was no chemistry between the two performers, even when they sang. The directors did not seem to notice, their response was a dull statement of approval.

For the next scene the woman playing Gertrude entered, and Estelle made a motion to get off of the chair that she had been sitting in. Everyone watched impatiently, waiting for the woman to respond with her lines, but instead she sat there struggling to get up. A couple minutes later Francesca, the hefty woman, tried to lend her aid by grabbing her arm, but she soon found that Estelle's arm was as stuck to the chair as her body was. Soon Estelle's face turned a bright shade of red under the heavy rogue that she already had on, and she turned an accusatory eye around the area. People began to come onto the stage to see what was going on, including Isabel and Jacob. No matter what anyone did, Estelle remained firmly fixed on the seating.

This caused the prima donna to fly into an unruly rage. Since she was attached to a chair as she pointed her finger angrily, whipping her red hair about, she created quite a sight. The situation was quite humorous to those around her. Only the directors remained stiff while many others could no longer contain their laughter. That incensed Estelle even more. Her fuming eyes looked searchingly about her, momentarily over Elle, and then finally landing on Isabel. The innocent young woman was only trying to help her fellow performer, but in return she was snapped at. "It was you! You did this to me, you conniving wench!"

Isabel backed up cautiously at this unwarranted remark, realizing that it was not a good idea to go near the woman while she was in such frenzy. Anyone could tell by looking at her natural surprise that she had nothing to do with the incident. As Estelle continued hollering unladylike, Maximilien and Jacob grabbed hold of both sides of the chair at Mister Tremaine's suggestion, and began to carry her off to her dressing room. Once there other women helped Estelle get out of the elaborate dress she was wearing, which was the only way that she could get free of the armchair. Rehearsals were cancelled for the rest of the day.

The directors returned to their office, in a worse mood than they entered with, and waited for the inevitable. When Estelle changed she stormed over to their office, still furious. Those she passed immediately moved out of her way, not wanting to be attacked by someone with such an out of control temper. She banged the door closed behind her and her voice could be heard screeching at them from down the hall. What the men said went unheard, but one could almost picture the horror on their hopeless faces.

A/N: Thanks again to my reviewers, I am glad to be able to get this chapter out considering the swarm of work that my teachers threw at me the moment I returned from break. Hope you liked it and I am also hoping to be able to update within the next several days. Please review!

Galasriniel- I love Lord of the Rings; it's a great movie. Anyway, there is only one marking period left to go until summer, I'm sure we will make it. Glad you liked the chapter.

TheWyldeWestWynd- Hello new reviewer, and don't worry, I love Erik's character too much to do that.

Anri- You should do that, sounds like fun. Ty for the compliment.