DISCLAIMER: PoTO belongs to ALW, Leroux, Kay, et al. Gabrielle belongs to me. Psh. What a trade, huh?
Nice little review replies at the bottom, if it's of any interest, but for now, ON WITH THE SHOW!
The next day, whereupon Meg came across Gabrielle in the hallways, she noticed an odd limp in her friend's step. She walked cautiously up to her. "Why are you walking so slowly?"
"I…I slipped in the bath," she said quickly. "Silly me, slipping all the time."
"Poor dear," she said, offering her shoulder for Gabrielle to lean on, "Here, let me help you. They want to see us at the main stage." Gabrielle refused the help and forced herself to walk more normally. When they reached the doorway to the theatre, they heard what sounded like a high pitched shrieked…nearly like someone was in pain.
"Dear god," Gabrielle said with a wince as the sound echoed through the concave walls of the grand theatre. "What in the world is that noise?"
"Signora Carlotta!" Meg exclaimed in surprise. Gabrielle looked up and saw a slightly older woman, standing akimbo on the stage. Obviously, that noise had been her singing. Gabrielle looked at Madame Giry, searching for clarification.
"We need a more experienced woman to play our lead roles," Giry explained. "A more confident woman. You attracted a new audience's attention, now we must do all that's within our power to keep it. That's why I have recommended La Carlotta's return."
Carlotta had a very arrogant smile on her overly-painted face, and she looked at Gabrielle with very obvious disregard. Though she discreetly took offense to this, Gabrielle kept up her pleasant attitude. "Good for you!" she said, passing quite well as sincere. "I knew you'd see sooner or later that I wasn't exactly the best girl to thrust into the limelight."
"Good 'eavens…" Carlotta said in an Italian accent that had not at all been missed in the theatre. "This is the girl you've 'a replace'a me with? She doesn't look'a like a soprano. Too bulky!"
"Because I'm not," she said matter-of-factly.
"Then run along, little girl," Carlotta said snidely. "Mame Giry will fetch you when'a we need a chorus girl or something."
Gabrielle smiled snidely and stormed off as well as she could back to her room. Not bothering to close the door behind her, she picked up one of the pillows on her bed and threw it on the floor, screeching loudly, "That wench!"
"Something the matter, prima donna?" someone asked from the doorway. She turned around and saw Anton resting his elbow on her doorjamb and looking inside. "You seem a bit off."
"Not prima donna anymore," she sighed, sitting down on her bed. "It seems as though I've been replaced by someone with a bit more…expertise."
"What?" Anton snapped, genuinely caught by surprise. "By who?"
"Signora Carlotta."
"What?" Anton said loudly. "God, that horrible Italian woman? You're joking, aren't you? But…why?"
"Like I said," Gabrielle said calmly, though she relished the fact that Anton was acting as upset as she wished she could. "They wanted someone who had experience, and I don't fit the description."
"This place is going to close down without you," Anton said drearily.
"I wouldn't go that far—"
"I would." Anton interrupted. "They'll see where they've gone wrong eventually. Don't get used to lurking around backstage." He smiled, and left, shutting her door behind him.
For about ten seconds, Gabrielle stared at the closed door, smiling rather airily at where Anton last stood, only phased back into reality when a voice spoke from behind her.
"Are you enjoying playing games, mademoiselle?" Erik asked in annoyance. She turned around and stared at him questioningly. "H'oh, those doe eyes again! Did you think it would be that easy?"
"What are you talking about?" she asked, narrowing her brown eyes so that tiny lines of frustration bunched slightly at the top of her nose.
"You actually think you can have two men fooled, then?" he snapped. "And before you come of age, nonetheless!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she repeated adamantly.
"You little siren!" he hissed, grabbing her wrist and making her stand so that she was situated right in front of him. "You think that if you use your dirty little tricks, you can romance the Phantom of the Opera, and you get to see what's under the mask—"
Gabrielle looked scandalized as she pulled her wrist away, cradling it slightly. "I would never—"
"I would never!" He mimicked mockingly. "You already have! You've made your little attempts to solve the mystery of what lies beneath this!" he gestured emphatically at the white mask on his face.
"Never again, then." she said adamantly. "Never."
"Oh, really?" he hissed, grabbing her wrist again, but this time, he placed her palm over his mask and stared fiercely at her, his eyes two shallow pools of darkness, like the deepest ocean. "Do it!" he said furiously. "Go on, you know you're dying to!"
"I won't." she said stonily, drawing herself up defiantly.
"You're afraid." he said in a low tone.
"I respect you." she replied simply. At first, he seemed unable to respond to this, but after regaining his composure, he also regained his threatening attitude.
"You think I'll kill you if you see. Is that it?" he growled in a low voice.
"I won't do it." she repeated, as though it had become her mantra.
"Why?" he yelled in inexplicable fury. "What do you think you have to gain? What do you want from this carcass? I suppose when you kissed me out of pity—"
"Is that the point of all this?" she asked calmly, gently pulling her hand away from his face now. "If that's it, I wasn't thinking clearly. I apologize for it, if I offended you."
"What man on earth is offended by a kiss?" he scoffed.
"What man on earth isn't disgusted by an undesirable woman…" she muttered. Erik looked at her, but deigned it wisest not to reply, though he felt so strongly that he ought have. Instead, in the fashion that Gabrielle had grown so accustomed to, he merely disappeared.
Meanwhile, Madame Giry walked into the room and saw Gabrielle standing idly, staring intently at one spot which was at the moment unoccupied.
"What are you doing?" she asked. Gabrielle turned and looked at her.
"Nothing." she replied vaguely. 'I'm not doing anything." She cleared her throat, and focused her gaze. "Besides, even if I had been, it would hardly be of any concern to you, would it?"
"Do you have any objections to us bringing Carlotta back?" she asked, trying to sound unconcerned with what Gabrielle's answer would be. "I realize it was an abrupt decision."
"No, not at all," Gabrielle said. "Besides, what would it matter? I thought you…what did you say? Oh yes, washed your hands of the entire affair."
"What's the matter?" Giry asked, cockin her head to the side.
"You ought to know," Gabrielle said disdainfully. "You're the ring leader in this little circus. You, my darling uncle, Christine…You wanted to send me here, drive me mad, didn't you? Well, I'm miserable and irredeemably crazy. Are you quite satisfied?"
"I haven't planned anything." Giry defended.
"Oh, so I suppose everything just feel so perfectly into place?" she said sardonically. "How much did you pay monsieur le fantome to pretend that he wanted me?"
Giry was speechless. Two or three times, she made to speak, but could not articulate herself in quite the correct words.
"Get out." Gabrielle said quietly, turning her back on the older woman. Giry obliged, once again closing the door behind her. "You were a fool to believe…" Gabrielle said to herself. "A damn fool."
Later in the day, Giry requested that Gabrielle come down for a meeting with herself and Messieurs Firmin and Andre. Gabrielle, not wanting to let herself appear more of a diva than she was, obliged. When she arrived, she sat at the opposite end of a table from Giry, the managers, and, to her disdain, Carlotta. The room seemed to have obtained an ethereal glow from the lights in the center of the table, possibly foretelling the unexpected message which was to come.
Firmin began reading a letter in his hands out loud, occasionally looking up to weigh his companions' reactions.
Fondest greetings to all,
Let us exempt ourselves from the usual niceties and proceed to business, shall we? Your next opera will be Don Juan Triumphant. Mademoiselle Clairmont will be cast as Aminta, despite your blatant denial of her capability as the leading lady. The part of Don Juan will be sung by yours truly, as my last attempt in casting another in the role resulted in an utter disaster. Failure to comply will be…highly unappreciated.
O.G.
Post Script: Your first rehearsal will be tomorrow. Attached is the remainder of my casting, and all decisions are final unless passed through the proper channels. Be sure that all actors are prepared to sing without scripts for rehearsal
"Me?" Gabrielle said, once they had finished reading the letter. "That won't be possible. I think he's made a mistake."
"Apparently not." Andre said, handing her a copy of the script. "I suggest you get to work." He, Firmin, and Carlotta stood, prepared to leave the room.
"We won't get through the entire thing," Carlotta said scathingly. "We never have."
Gabrielle sat there for minutes, reading over her part in the script. When she looked up, she saw that Giry was still there. "Madame, this is too much." she said simply.
"You wanted it," Giry pointed out.
"No, I didn't!"
"You will learn your lines, no questions asked." she replied, and with that, she swept out of the room. Then, having heard everything, Anton stepped inside.
"I'll help you," he suggested. "Give me the script, and I'll help you remember the lines."
"Oh, Anton, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said ecstatically. "You saved my life!"
Suddenly, the task seemed far less daunting with someone else's help...though it was quite clear that Monsieur Fouinard was not the one who the role was intended for.
To my uber awesome reviewers...
Ophira Holmes, confidence boosts are always good! hugs. You're cool!
LoneWolf2005, Haha, Gabrielle definitely is stubborn, but it's fun writing characters that way.
Beautiful Screams of Heartacheyou saw it in San Francisco? I'm from there! Aw, I wish I could have seen it! Anyhoo, I'm glad you like my characterization of Erik. I was a bit iffy about it myself, because...i dunno, does Erik seem too nice in this story? Be brutal! And I'll try to be more descriptive, but it's just so much fun writing the dialogue, sometimes it slips my mind. Must concentrate!
Angeloftheoperahouse, yes, Giry was definitely off, and she might still be portrayed sort of...funky. I definitely have to delve into her character more, but I've never been too fond of her...le sigh.