Chapter 17

Elle stayed behind, telling Nadia to go get ready and that she would see her later. The girl left, following a trail of whispering chorus girls, and eventually Elle was the only person left in the theater. She sat quietly in her seat, pondering over what had just happened. The chorus girls were not a valid source of information, she never believed most of their gossip, and she could not understand why they were blaming the Opera Ghost for every little accident that happened there. It was not unreasonable to assume that what happened to Estelle was either an accident or the product of someone's anger towards her. The woman had many enemies, and it was not hard to understand why. Elle simply could not believe that her teacher, her instructor of music who taught her how to sing properly and himself could sing like an angel, would do something like that.

Then she remembered the letter. Yes, he obviously did not like the prima donna either, but that does not mean that he would play tricks on her. Even if he were responsible, who could honestly say that she did not have it coming? The whole thing would have been simply a humorous incident if the repercussions were not so harsh. Elle was sympathetic towards the people who were unjustly injured by this occurrence. The directors had no right to treat everyone the way they did that morning, but the person most responsible for their behavior was Estelle. She threatened the success of their opera house and it was understandable that the directors would want to do everything possible to keep everything running smoothly so that the show would go on as scheduled. The only thing was that now all of the stagehands were fired they were going to have to go and hire new ones. If only Elle's father knew what was going on in his opera house he would probably be pulling out his hair.

The only thing that really surprised Elle was the fact that many of the theatre people seemed to know about the Opera Ghost. She thought that he had only contacted certain people, including her father, Estelle, and herself, but apparently some of them knew he existed. The stagehand that had spoken out as a representative of the opera rats stated that the ghost had been haunting this particular building for years, which in a way was not too surprising. In the first letter that he left for her he referred to the opera house as his own, and if he had resided there for some time then it made sense that he thought of the place as his own. It was, however, the first time that she ever heard him called the Phantom of the Opera. That title made him sound sort of intimidating, yet the Opera Ghost that she knew no longer frightened her in any way. Although she was not scared of him, she still would not attempt to break her boundaries and outright ask him about if he was indeed behind what happened to Estelle or about his past. Instead Elle would ask her friend Nadia, or if she does not know then there was always Meg Giry, about it. Of course her own connection with him would remain a secret, but she did not see how it would hurt to try and find out what the others know.

Since she was in such a deep train of thought, Elle did not notice when people began filling up the stage, preparing for the rehearsal. The directors decided to start off again with the beginning of act four and the duet between Romeo and Juliette. For this reason people were scurrying around, finding spots to wait backstage and eventually leaving the stage empty for Maximilien and Estelle. No one was looking forward to seeing Estelle; actually the majority of the cast would probably have celebrated the prima donna's departure. Elle was finally snapped back to reality when she heard the directors enter and take seats near her. For once in several weeks they were on time for a rehearsal, but that was most likely due to their attempt in pacifying Estelle. Mister Bolster was not smiling, nor was he sweating; oddly the usual redness in his cheeks was gone, instead his face was pallid and wan, like he had seen a ghost. Mister Tremaine had just situated his spectacles on his pointy nose, and his somber expression was nothing abnormal considering the past couple days.

Maximilien had been waiting on stage for a bit, and finally Estelle chose to make her entrance. She strode onto the platform, shaking her long red hair behind her similar to how a horse shakes its tail, and nodded to the maestro to begin the music. The orchestra began playing while she took her spot opposite her partner. This time the soprano stood the whole time and when she was not singing it was impossible to miss the large grin that pulled at the sides of her face. The haughty smirk seemed to announce that, although everyone hated her, she got her way and therefore won the battle, so to speak. Elle felt sick to her stomach just looking at her, knowing that soon Isabel would be kicked out and Estelle would be practically calling the shots, threatening the directors in order to get them to do what she wanted them to do.

Elle soon grew tired of watching Estelle perform. She enjoyed attending rehearsals and being a part of the production, but the prima donna was not at all pleasant to watch. Not only did Elle not take pleasure in listening to her sing, now there was the irritating expression on the woman's face that made her angry. Estelle did not deserve the lead role; she did not deserve to be treated like some sort of queen. Sometime around the scene where Gertrude enters the stage and joins in on the singing, Elle decided to leave the rehearsal early. No one really seemed to notice as she got up from her seat and silently made her way up the aisle. The carpet dulled the sound of her heels against the ground and the swooshing of her skirts was barely audible above the music that was being played.

Without even considering where to go, Elle quietly proceeded on as if guided by some higher power. When she stopped walking she found herself once again in the small chapel at the back of the building. The room was completely still; the only sounds that were present came from her. The chapel was a place that she was likely to be found when she was not at the theatre or in her room. After her mother died that room seemed the most suitable place for her to go and pray. She would sing to her mother, occasionally talk to her and every time light a candle. The place some hopeful feelings for her, and it always reminded her of the strange yet wonderful dream that she had on the day of her mother's funeral. Secretly she wished each time she visited there that her dream would actually happen and that she would be taken to the 'world of music', as that apparition had called it.

The young woman took her place before the candles, kneeling down and striking a match. With one hand she lit a white candle and watched the flame slowly grow brighter. Soon it filled that part of the room, aiding the poor light that emanated from the stained glass window at the side of the room. After staring at the flame for a bit, Elle carefully laid out her skirts so that her legs would not touch the cold stone floor and she sat down. Her eyes closed as she began to pray. She prayed for her mother in heaven, her father who was spending his time in solitude, and Isabel who would not have a career in opera after the current production ended.

Several minutes later her eyelids fluttered open like butterfly wings, and her round eyes seemed to stare off into space. Her eyes did that often when she thought about her mother. Only when she sang did Elle appear to have the vitality that she used to have. When she was not singing her skin was pale, her eyes glossy, and her expression dream-like. That was how she was at that particular moment, as she sat there for some time. She did not notice how long she sat in that state; it was as if she was not in full possession of her mind. Then her mind stirred, her thoughts still on her mother, and Elle began to sing. Her voice was quiet at first, slowly gaining volume. She sang a hymn that would have been an appropriate selection for an actual funeral.

"Thine be the glory, risen, conqu'ring Son;
Endless is the victory, Thou o'er death hast won;
Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away,
Kept the folded grave clothes where Thy body lay."

A piece of her dirty blonde hair fell out of the bun that was pinned on the back of her head. She absentmindedly pushed the strands of hair back behind her left ear and out of her way, while singing the entire time. Her eyes began to water up, but not enough to cry. Each note that left her mouth was beautiful yet tragic, carrying the sadness that is brought on by the loss of a loved one. The melancholy carried by the hymn was enough to bring tears to the eyes of anyone listening. When Elle sang she brought forth all of her stored up emotions, which made her singing even the more bittersweet.

"Lo! Jesus meets us, risen from the tomb;
Lovingly He greets us, scatters fear and gloom;
Let the church with gladness, hymns of triumph sing;
For her Lord now liveth, death hath lost its sting.

No more we doubt Thee, glorious Prince of life;
Life is naught without Thee; aid us in our strife;
Make us more than conqu'rors, through Thy deathless love:
Bring us safe through Jordan to Thy home above."

The hymn came to an end and the room was once again quiet. Then Elle heard a noise behind her and instinctively she shot her head around to look. Someone had entered the room while she was singing, and she had been so caught up in the music that she had not even noticed their presence. He stood near the doorway, leaning against the wall, watching her interestedly. When she saw who it was she gathered her skirts and drew herself up from the floor, brushing the dust off of her dress. Now that she knew someone was there she wondered how long and, in a strange way, felt like she had been violated. It tends to be that way when people think that they are alone and then find that there was someone else there looking at them. Privacy is comforting and when it is infringed upon then it is like being spied on, all of the comfort and safety is gone.

"Hector!" Elle exclaimed when she recognized him, startled overall by his presence. She regained her composure, pushing all of her emotions back behind a wall of a stoic expression. Her green eyes glanced down at her hands and then back up at him, feeling uncomfortable. They had not seen each other in some time, every time that he came to visit her she would refuse to see him. That made this confrontation awkward. She did not know how he knew where to find her or why he was there in the first place. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he honestly answered, straightening himself up to look presentable. He had his hair brushed back and he was wearing a suit, the same way that he usually dressed. Moving his hands to his pockets, he took a couple steps closer towards her, entering further into the room. His blue eyes searched Elle's. "I ran into your friend while I was looking for you and she said that I would probably find you here."

"Well, here I am," Elle replied, not quite sure what to say to him. She felt exposed due to the fact that he overheard her singing for her mother, yet she did not have the courage to inquire as to how long he had been standing there.

"You sang beautifully," Hector commented sincerely. "I did not know that you could sing."

This compliment made Elle uneasy. The only people who have ever heard her sing were her mother and the Opera Ghost. It was enough that now Hector heard her, but the fact that she did not know he was listening while she was singing bothered her even more. She knew that he did not mean any harm, yet she still odd being around him. "Thank you," she responded in a low tone. Her eyes moved up and unexpectedly met his.

"How have you been?" he asked her, fiddling with something that was in his coat pocket. With his free hand he ran his fingers through his light brown hair. His eyes never left hers, like he was scared that if his eyes roamed away from her for even one second that she would be gone when he looked back. After not being able to see her for weeks it was understandable that he would be concerned that she would leave. "I have been worried about you."

"Fine," she answered. "You do not have to worry about me."

Hector attempted a smile, flashing his white teeth hesitantly, and he stepped closer to her. He offered out his right arm to her, almost doubting that she would accept it. "Have you eaten lunch yet? I am famished."

Elle looked at his arm and then back up at him. Like her father she had become reclusive to a certain point, and for that reason she was hesitant to accept his offer. She did feel bad that she had not seen him all that time, for they had been friends before. "I am not hungry, but I will join you if you want company," she replied, taking his arm. Together they left the gloomy dim lit chapel.

A/N: The song that Elle sings was written by Edmond Budry. Sorry about the wait, everything has been hectic. Tomorrow is the prom and I am a procrastinator so I waited until the last minute to do everything. Anyway, at least I got up the chapter before the weekend. I will not make you wait as long for the next chapter because I feel bad about taking so long with this one. So please review and thank you for reading.

popcornshrimp- Thank you so much.

Anri- Thanks.

TheWyldeWestWynd- Yes, I agree with you. Thanks.

Kate- Actually I do make a sort of outline before I write any story. Anyway, thank you for the compliment and I am glad that you like the story so far.

Galasriniel- lol, yes it was. I am a junior in high school and now we are down to nine weeks. When does your school year start? We started on the 2nd of September I believe and our last day is the 21st of June but no one really goes after they finish their finals.