Dresses, orchestrations, dancing, jewels, alcohol, and masks, all swirling around the floor of the grand staircase like butterflies. The famous Opera Masquerade Ball, a vortex of color, candles, men, and women.
Christine sighed from her post behind the column. She and Meg watched the fine ladies and gentlemen enter every year. The other ballet rats and stagehands had a drunken revelry in the backstage area, but she and Meg hid and watched longingly at the beautiful ladies. She wanted to go to a ball so badly! All she did in life was dance, eat, dance, rest, dance, and occasionally a singing lesson with the Voice.
She told the Voice about her desire to be a fine lady and swirl the night away. The Voice which had been abnormally talkative that day grew quiet fairly quickly. The Voice even went as far as to forbid her from going! As if she could! No way would a lowly ballet rat, such as her, be asked to such a ball. No, the only parties that would await her would be the lewd, drunken, and loud parties backstage. Someday, when she was a diva, maybe she could go, and have people look at her in awe.
"Daaé!" came a voice from behind her. Madame Giry had found them again. She finds them every year, no matter where they hide. Madame Giry is dressed up in her finest outfit for the ball, she has enough ranking to merit an invitation.
"Christine, go back to the dormitories, maybe next year you can attend," Madame Giry said kindly as she pointed down the hall that Meg had already scurried down. Next year! Oh, Madame Giry, thought Christine. You have been saying that since I was seven!
I will never wear a beautiful dress and dance with my prince at the Opera Populaire's masquerade ball!
AN: Another random plot bunny when I was thinking about the movie and play. Again, not too much editing, mostly stream of conscious. So, most grammar mistakes will be taken care of, please leave a memo in the in box.