Before I leave I'm putting up this chapter and maybe even chapter ten! Yesterday I found out I was leaving in the afternoon so I decided that I could do more than one just as a sort of apology.

Countess Alana Omg! Thank you sooooo much for reviewing! I'm putting up a chapter ten today partially for your sake because I'm afraid this chapter has something like a cliffy also. :)

Here's chapter nine!

MaskedDreamer

Chapter Nine: The New Job

Sixth months had gone by.

All strange memories were pushed into the farthest corner of Loralee's mind, she still practiced ballet late into the night, and she had made great friends with Madame Giry.

The Opera Populaire had put on four operas in those six months and all had been wonderful. The newest one, Faust, had been decided to perform the first day of spring, and it was now two days after that date.

Loralee went over and got her script and then went back to the stage to do a run through of it with the cast, Monsieur Reyer, and Monsieur André and Firmin.

Upon entering and looking around, Loralee was surprised that she couldn't find Madame Giry any where. Slightly disappointed and curious, she made her way over to the young blonde friend of hers.

"Meg, where's your mother?"

"She's sick. This morning she woke up with a burning fever."

Loralee panicked. Meg noticed her sudden change and put a comforting hand on Loralee's arm.

"It's okay, Beth, my mother's going to be fine even though her age is finally catching up with her. The doctor came and said she'll be better in a couple of days."

"Will I be able to see her?" Loralee asked.

"She's already asked to see you as soon as she gets better. It should be soon. I'll get you when she's ready."

"Thank you."

They read through the script for the next two days and started the basics of the Opera. The ballet was in poor shape because of Madame Giry's absence but the chorus was getting along fine. Three days later, after a day of costume measurements and practice, Loralee was approached by Meg.

"My mother wishes to see you now."

Loralee pushed back the idea she had of going to start practice ballet earlier than usual and instead followed Meg through the hallways happily.

Madame Giry's room was rather small yet full of artistically elegant pieces of furniture and art. The very air was heavily laden with mystical fumes and made the room feel smaller and cozier than it was.

"Meg? Is Beth with you?"

Madame Giry's voice called out from around the corner, surprisingly strong yet still studded with weariness.

"Yes, maman!"

Madame Giry was lounging on her bed, sipping from some tea. He hair was in a lose braid and she was in a dull gray night gown. It was so strange to see the usually uptight and strict Madame Giry tired and so loose. Loralee even had to pinch herself secretly to see if she wasn't dreaming. Indeed, she was not, and luckily Madame Giry nor Meg Giry had seen her foolish act of disbelief.

"Hello, Madame. I hope you are feeling better."

"Oh, much better, thank you." Madame Giry put down her tea. "Meg, my love, please leave us in peace."

Meg nodded and quietly left the room, obviously off to enjoy the evening with some of her other Opera Populaire friends. When they could hear Meg's footsteps safely disappear, they both hugged each other warmly.

"My dear Loralee, I'm sorry to have frightened you so."

Loralee blushed.

"How did you find out?"

"Well, my dear Meg can't keep her mouth shut, can she? The first second she could, she came running to me saying how you were nearly in tears of fright and concern."

"Remind me why I place my trust with Meg?" Loralee asked sarcastically.

"Now, Loralee, to the serious business."

"Yes, please. I've been also dying to know what you wanted to see me for. Meg only said it was important and wouldn't tell me more."

"Well, that's good, because I didn't say anything more to her. I only said I needed to speak to you on secret and future topics."

Loralee's brow furrowed as she sat down at the end of Madame Giry's bed. Madame Giry fingered with the bed sheets while she began the reason of Loralee's comings.

"I've worked at the Opera House for almost all my life, starting off as a ballet student and becoming the ballet mistress. I've never really thought of the future of my job, but my sickness the past few days has forced this detail into my mind. The past few days I've seemed to pass the line of age, and I'm afraid I shall be retiring from my job as soon as I can. In my place as ballet mistress I wish to have you, Loralee."

Loralee was speechless. She opened her mouth to speak but it only seemed to get exceedingly heavy when the lips separated and instead just went into a gape of amazement.

Madame Giry wanted her as the ballet mistress?

"But. . . But Madame, I don't even belong in the corps de ballet!"

Madame waved her hand as if to wave off what Loralee just said.

"What has that got to do with anything? It's the talent that counts and from what I've seen, you want nothing but perfection and are a clear example of perfection, also."

"So it may seem. . ." Loralee muttered under her breath. Madame Giry heard and sighed impatiently.

"I'm asking you to take my place as ballet mistress, Loralee. What's your answer?"

Loralee sat and thought for a moment. She was currently satisfied with her position as a chorus girl and practicing ballet at night. But now she could leave behind her chorus girl job and become the well known ballet mistress. This meant working harder, being more exposed to the public, and having a large piece of the Opera's performance rest on her shoulders. Loralee thought she'd die of stress before she'd even do one ballet move in front of the corps de ballet, but Madame Giry seemed to think otherwise.

Now looking at the elder woman, Loralee was surprised to see how much gray hairs had woven themselves into Madame Giry's fine golden ones. Her eyes seemed more sunken in, and in them shone out a bright ray of tiredness. It was true. Her age really was catching up to her. Also, on Madame Giry's face, was a pure look of need and hope that Loralee might take her place. Hope also that she might finally live a peaceful life she most very much deserved. There was little more than Loralee could have done than say:

"Yes, I will take the job of ballet mistress."

Madame Giry sighed out and closed her eyes, a smile finally breaking out on her aged face.

"Thank you so much, Loralee. You have no idea how much this means to me."

Then she flicked back open her eyes, a serious and secret expression suddenly plastered over her face.

"I. . . I also forgot to mention one duty the ballet mistress has. Promise me that you will have this job and not do so much as give a hint of the job I'm about to tell you of?"

"Of course I won't tell anybody. What is it?"

"The other job, Loralee, is being the box keeper of Box 5."

Loralee became surprised and confused. Surely such a job has no reason to be kept as a secret.

"Why must job be secret?" Loralee said, voicing her thoughts in form of a question outloud.

"Loralee, have you heard the tales of the Opera Ghost, or sometimes known as the Phantom of the Opera."

"Well, of course I have. It's some stupid tale someone made up about a so called ghost that wears a white half mask who was obsessed with Christine Daae and almost stole her away from her fiancé, the Vicomte de Changy. What has that got to do with this, though?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, Loralee, I have to say that the story was no tale and is very much true. The Opera Ghost prowled, and still prowls, the Opera House and lives beneath in the cellars. The love affair did happen with him and Christine Daae, and he has been broken ever since he let her go. He's very much alive, just emotionally dead from the incident a year and a half ago. I've been his box keeper, messenger, and friend for my whole life, and now I pass down this job to you as well. His stubbornness has also gotten to me in my old age."

Loralee was very pale by then. She always believed in Madame Giry, and knew that the story she had just heard from the ballet mistress was completely true.

The memories all came back suddenly and Loralee was laden down with questions.

"That night a long time ago, you know? The one when I was looking throughout the Opera Populaire? Was that man who I saw in the chapel and the man who caught me from hitting the ground. . . him?"

She was slightly afraid to hear the answer and nearly shrieked out with surprise and amazement when Madame Giry nodded.

"It was the first sign I'd seen of him since the night of Don Juan Triumphant. I knew it was him when I saw the black cloak he gave you. It's his. And those notes and roses you got from O.G. are also his doing."

Of course! Loralee thought. O.G. is Opera Ghost!

"But why did he give the signs to me out of all people?"

"I'm not sure," Madame Giry lied. She didn't want to stress Loralee out too much. "Perhaps he just felt sorry for scaring you like that."

"How could he feel sorry, though? I've heard he's a murderer and a monster of spirit. I really could care less about what's underneath the mask, but-"

"You don't!" Madame Giry asked, surprised and amazed. "Why, bless the heavens, I think you're the perfect candidate for the job then. He's very. . . sensitive about his mask and history. The Opera Ghost is a rather picky man."

Loralee breathed in deeply and exhaled through her mouth, eyes closing for a few seconds.

"So, I'm to teach corps de ballet and serve the so called Opera Ghost."

"Correct," Madame Giry said. "I've already told him that he's to be in Box 5 at nine tonight to meet you, so I expect you to be there to introduce yourselves."

Loralee could only nod. Nine was only in two hours.

"I think I may get some rest right now, Loralee. Thank you once again and good luck tonight. You'll need it."

Loralee bid good-bye to Madame Giry and left the room. Only when she had shut her own room door behind her did she let out a long string of rather disgusting words.