"Ah, you must be new here."
Madame Giry's heels clicked briskly upon the polished floor, her long black dress flowing elegantly behind her as she strode towards the two gaping girls, who in her opinion looked quite distressed. Well, that was usually how it went. Most of the new staff was quite flustered at the gorgeous Opera House, built by none other than Monsieur Garnier. It was quite a work of art, and it dazzled most who stepped through the large double doors, stunning most who had never seen it before.
"Come, come, do not stand there with your mouth agape." Tapping her foot impatiently against the smooth surface, folding her arms loosely across her chest as she approached. They didn't seem to be the smartest pair in the world.
The eldest blinked twice, pausing from her stare to look over at Giry, amber eyes widening ever more. French? This woman was speaking French? For what reason? What the heck had happened? Where in the world were they! And how did they get here?
The younger also did something quite similar, only her astonishment was slightly different. As her eyes traveled to the dance instructor before her, her face broke into a large smile, followed by a light squeal of delight, which to be honest startled the older sister from her thoughts.
"Giry!"
It was now the Madame's turn to blink, head tilting slightly to the side in a confused, questioning look. Did she know these girls? No. She had never seen them before in her life. And yet, this rather tall girl seemed to know her… The other one, the shorter of the two, however, did not seem amused.
"You must be joking. Now why would she be Madame Giry?"
"I am she."
Both girls turned again to face the rather tall woman, both in awe and a bit bewildered. Of course they knew who Giry was, they had only seen the movie and loved every minute of it, but the fact that they were meeting the REAL Giry blew their minds. It was impossible, all of it, it didn't make sense. Phantom of the Opera took place in 1800's.
"We must have gone back in time…" The taller girl whispered, breathtaken.
The good Madame had had enough of this whispering and confusion. She was a dance instructor, not a tour guide! She was not up to explaining everything in the opera, (for this is what she thought the girls wanted) and this foolishness had gone on far enough, in her view. She had had quite enough of this whispering behind her back. And in right in front of her too! Rude…
"No more of this nonsense. What are your names? Quickly, we have things to do."
The two sisters stared at her for a few moments, trying to think of something to say. Their real names would not pass in this era, if they really were in this era, and they needed to think up something to tell the impatient woman. Both seemed to be stumbling over words, until the youngest came up with a name she really liked.
"Charlotte. My name is Charlotte."
"And what about you?"
Unfortunately, it seemed the smaller girl couldn't think of one. French names were difficult to think of, at least a good one, and the fact that her sister's name had had a French origin was merely a fluke. Biting her lip, she stared up at the woman with a slight smile, about to shrug when 'Charlotte' interrupted.
"Demi."
Madame Giry quirked an eyebrow, looking between the two for a moment before dismissing it, waving her hand before turning on her heel with a slight flick of her long braid. She was not about to question it. She had wasted far too much time with these silly girls already. Without another glance at the girls she began heading for a door to the boarding part of the opera house, obviously expecting the two to follow.
"Alright then. Come with me. Which one of you is to be in the orchestra? Flute, is it? I must take you to the Maestro."
The two scampered after her, both having very different expressions.
"Demi! You do realize Demi means HALF or SHORT!" 'Demi' whispered, sounding very annoyed, Charlotte smiling lightly down at her.
"I couldn't think of anything else. Besides, it suits you."
"Ha ha, very funny. You're the only one who can play the flute. You're going in the orchestra."
"But I thought… don't we need to get out of here?"
Demi thought for a moment, eyeing the wooden frame and people with whom they passed as she did so. She had long since noticed both of their garb had been changed dramatically; her own turning to a white tunic and black breaches, her sister's being a long peach colored dress, both also wearing a pair of black boots. She had found this strange at first, however, she didn't make much comment. Why question these bizarre events?
"We'll have to stay until we figure out what is going on. Until then, you're going to have to pose for a master flute player."
"This is where you, Demi, shall be sleeping. You are to be in the ballet, correct?" Giry paused in front of a small cot by a window, surrounded completely by other small beds, obviously the other girls'. Demi's mouth widened slightly.
"Uh… but…"
"Yeah, that's right." Charlotte interrupted, nodding. Demi looked horrified.
"But I don't…"
"Alright then, come with me Charlotte. We shall take you to the Maestro. He shall set you up with a place to sleep."
With that, Giry was already off again, Charlotte quickening her pace to follow her, leaving the horrified Demi to ponder her fate as a ballet girl.