The Opera Populaire 1870

Meg Giry gave an exaggerated sigh as she leaned against the door to the dancers' dressing room. She eyed her friend Christine Daae in the mirror, her annoyed expression only too obvious to her feelings.

"We shall be late for rehearsal, Christine…again! Mother will have our heads!" Meg exclaimed.

Despite her friend's annoyance, Christine smiled as she fixed the earring into her left ear. "I'm coming!"

As she stood, she adjusted the rather provocative top to slave costume she wore. Her entire midriff was bare, and although the bottom piece of her costume allowed a ballet dancer all the movement in the world, she couldn't help but feel somewhat naked. "Did I ever tell you how much I hate this production?" Christine frowned as she looked at her reflection.

Meg sighed again and grabbed Christine's wrist, pulling her out the door. "Only since Monsieur Lefevre announced we would be performing it. Dear God! Mother will kill us both!"

"Oh Meg, you exaggerate."

Meg stopped in her place and turned to face Christine. "You didn't have to answer to her the last time we were late for rehearsal! I'm fortunate I'm still dancing in the lead tonight!"

She hadn't meant to speak so sharply to her, but the memory of her mother publicly scolding her was still fresh in her mind.

Meg saw the sudden flush that appeared on her friend's cheeks. "You're right, Meg. I didn't mean to get you into trouble. I'm sorry."

It was hard to remain angry with Christine. Her heart was in the right place, but sometimes she still acted like a child instead of the young woman she was becoming. Meg smiled at her and hugged her gently.

"It's all right, I've put it behind me. Now come!"

They raced to the end of the hall and down the spiral staircase to where the other ballet girls were assembled. Madame Giry cast them a stern look, but they waved it off and continued with their exercises. As soon as she had passed by them, Meg leaned forward and whispered into Christine's ear.

"I saw you leave before dawn, Christine."

"What?"

Meg furrowed her brow. She could not determine if she was just playing stupid or if the noise of the opera's diva, La Carlotta, was drowning out her words.

"Where did you go this morning, Christine? Did you have another nightmare?"

But before Christine could answer, the manager of the Opera Populaire, Monsieur Lefevre, and three other gentlemen who were well dressed passed by. Lefevre was waving his arms excitedly and pointing out the more distinguished members of the opera.

"And as you can see, gentlemen, rehearsals are under way for a new production of Chalumeau's Hannibal." Lefevre said.

All rehearsals stopped as the stagehands and cast turned to see their guests. The elderly conductor, Reyer, was at his wits end with the intrusion.

"For heaven's sake! Monsieur Lefevre, I am rehearsing!" he cried.

Lefevre raised his hands in defense. "I am quite aware of that, but ladies and gentlemen, if I could have you attention for a moment, I have an announcement to make. As I'm sure you all know, their have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can now confirm these rumors and would like to introduce to you your new managers, Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre."

The two men seemed almost a comical display. One was quite tall and the other coming only to the other's shoulder. By their appearance and dress, it was obvious their baptism into aristocracy was recent. Their knowledge of theater was, no doubt, minimal.

"And it is our pleasure to introduce our new patron…" Firmin added.

"The Vicomte de Chagny." Andre finished.

A young man, no more than twenty, walked onto the stage. He was tall, with shoulder length brownish blonde hair, blue eyes, and high cheek bones.

Christine gasped suddenly. Meg turned in time to see her face flush and a slight smile appear on her face.

"It's Raoul!" Christine said in an excited whisper. "The little boy who fetched my scarf when it blew into the sea. I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts."

Meg looked back at the Vicomte. "He's very handsome."

"Do you think he'll remember me?" She sounded worried.

"Of course he will."

The Vicomte made his short debut, receiving a polite applause from the gathered crowd, before being introduced to Carlotta and Piangi and making his exit.

"Thank you Monsieur le Vicomte! And now, once more if you please, Signor Piangi!" Reyer shouted as the managers walked off stage.

Christine held her head up high, hoping to catch the attention of the Vicomte as he passed, but to no avail. Meg saw the evident hurt in her eyes.

"He wouldn't recognize me." Christine whispered.

"He didn't see you." Meg corrected her before parting to take her place for the ballet.

Off to the side, her mother was showing the new managers the finer points of the most excellent ballet corps in Paris. However, their words and gazes of curiosity vanished as the music began. Her love and life was dance. She was born and raised in this opera house with nothing but music and dance to shape her earliest childhood memories. At first she was a bit clumsy on her feet, but nothing a few extra hours of practice couldn't handle.

And now, at the prime age of nineteen, Meg Giry was well on her way to be the next prima ballerina. The only thing that stood in her way was the all too conceited Cosette. She was five years her senior and showed no sign of retiring her head role. Only Madame Giry was able to put her in her place when fame got the best of her. Oh, but it would only take a slight twist of the ankle and Meg would be in the spotlight…

As the scene came to a close, Carlotta nearly screamed out the last few notes, aggravation written plainly on her face. As usual, the men were staring at the naked midriffs and bare legs of the young dancers.

"All they want is dancing!" She shouted as the music ended. The managers were too amused with their conversations to notice.

"Well the Vicomte is very excited about tonight's gala!" Lefevre said excitedly before noticing the apprehensive expression on Andre's face. Carlotta was approaching and Meg could tell that the new managers would finally see the true side of La Carlotta.

"Meg,"

Meg turned at the sound of her name to see Christine approaching her. The dark curls of her hair were slightly out of place from the dance and a soft sheen of perspiration covered her forehead. Meg could only guess that she looked no better.

"What's wrong?" Meg asked.

"It's nothing really, but, will you please tell your mother that I won't be joining you for lunch? There is something I must do."

"But what…"

Meg was cut off by the insistent shushing of the arrogant Italian diva. "That woman is the devil." Meg whispered.

Reyer took his place, and breathed deeply. "Signora?"

"Maestro."

The piano began the first few notes of Carlotta's aria. She placed her hands in their exaggerated positions and took a deep breath before she sang…

"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye…"

Christine rolled her eyes. "Really, she murders the words before making anything sound like music…"

Meg suppressed a giggle, but a sudden movement from above caught her attention. A black shadow moved along the catwalks where the scene shifters should have been. She looked back at Carlotta and let out a scream as the backdrop plummeted downward onto the diva.

"You idiots!" Piangi shouted furiously, glaring up to where the scene shifters raced along the catwalk. "Signora! Lift it up you fools! Lift it up!"

"The Phantom of the Opera…" Meg whispered to Christine. Christine returned her frightened gaze.

"Signora, are you alright?" Lefevre asked as the managers rushed to her side.

"My ankle!" Carlotta screamed, pounding on the floor like a spoiled child.

"Buquet! For God's sake man, what's going on up there?" Lefevre screamed angrily.

A short, burly man with tangled gray hair and a red face struggled to lift the backdrop from the outraged diva. Joseph Buquet was known more as a superstitious, perverted drunk then the head scene shifter at the Opera Populaire. "Please monsieur, don't look at me! I wasn't at my post! There's no one there, monsieur!" Buquet shouted, and then added more sarcastically, "Or if there is, well then…it must be a ghost.'

Piangi and Lefevre helped Carlotta to her feet.

Andre gave a nervous laugh. "Signora, these things do happen."

"For the past three years 'these things do happen'!" She pointed an accusing finger at Lefevre. "And do you stop these things from happening? No! And you two, you are as bad as him! And until you stop these things from happening, this thing does not happen!"

Carlotta turned on her heel and stormed off stage. "Ubaldo! Andiamo!"

Piangi followed like an obedient dog along with her seamstress, hairdresser, and maid.

"He's cursed us," Christine whispered. "We'll never be able to carry on with the performance tonight."

"Christine, I never knew you were so superstitious." Meg laughed.

"I'm not…"

Lefevre gave his final adieu to Firmin and Andre, ready to wash his hands of the outcome of the godforsaken opera house. The new managers soon found themselves in a rather awkward predicament as the entire company gazed at them. Madame Giry broke the silence.

"I have a message, messieurs, from the Opera Ghost." She revealed a black bordered envelope with the seal of a red skull.

The ballet girls whispered hushed fears.

Oh, do stop it… Meg thought silently.

"God in Heaven! You're all obsessed!" Firmin shouted angrily.

Madame Giry gave him a crude look before summarizing the Ghost's welcoming note.

"He's mad, Andre! Where does he think we'll get twenty thousand francs from?" Firmin exclaimed, tearing the note from Madame Giry's hands.

Andre's face had paled. He was speechless.

"In all actuality, messieurs, it is a mere trifle that he asks of you. But perhaps you can afford more, with the Vicomte as your patron." Madame Giry replied.

Firmin glared at her. "Madame, I had hoped to make that announcement public tonight, when the Vicomte was to join us for the gala. But obviously, we shall now have to cancel, as it appears we have lost our star!"

Meg and Christine exchanged anxious glances.

"They wouldn't!" Meg felt her heart nearly stop.

Andre shook his head in aggravation. "But surely there must be a, um, a…"

"An understudy!" shouted a singer.

"Yes! An…"

"There is no understudy for La Carlotta!" Reyer fumed.

Firmin again turned to Andre. "A full house, Andre! We shall have to refund a full house!"

The company burst into a frenzied buzzing. "This is mad!" someone cried.

Meg looked at Christine and then addressed the managers. "Christine Daae could sing it, messieurs." Everyone became silent again and focused their attention on the young brunette.

Christine gave her a wide-eyed look. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Saving this production…"

"A chorus girl? Don't be silly…"Andre brushed her off.

Meg looked pleadingly at her mother.

"She has been taking lessons from a great teacher." Madame Giry walked over to Christine and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Meg held back a frown. A great teacher, indeed.

"Who?" Andre seemed curious.

Christine looked to Madame Giry and then back at Andre. "I don't know his name, monsieur."

"Let her sing for you. She has been well taught." Madame Giry encouraged.

"Well…all right." Andre ushered Christine forward. "Come along, don't be shy."

Reyer took his place yet again. He was now indifferent to the matter. "From the beginning of the aria then please, mam'selle."

Meg gave her a slight push and Christine took center stage. She looked so frightened. She gazed above her as if waiting for an encouraging sign from heaven before she began the aria:

"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye.

Remember me once in a while – please promise me you'll try."

As she continued her song, Meg saw the stage fright dissolve from Christine's face as she became one with the music. Much like her dancing, Christine's world always relied on song, even before she was brought to the opera house. But it was here that her voice matured. However, the opportunities to show her skill were minimal.

Meg looked from Christine to the faces of the managers. Awe replaced their earlier fears as they listened intently to the young diva. The surrounding stagehands and dancers also seemed hypnotized. Never could they have imagined that such a beautiful sound could come from such a small earthly being.

When Christine had finished her piece, there was a moment of stunned silence. Christine looked to her friend with a look of distress, but Meg only smiled and applauded. Everyone else soon followed. Christine breathed a sigh of relief.

"My God, child, you have the loveliest voice!" Firmin exclaimed.

"This tutor of yours must be one of a kind! A genius!" Andre added.

Meg arched her brow, but said not a word. She looked to her mother, but she was smiling affectionately at her adopted daughter.

"It's settled then! Miss Daae, would you do us the honor of taking the lead in tonight's opera?" Firmin asked.

"It would be my pleasure, monsieur. Thank you." Christine replied with quiet humbleness.

"Wonderful! Well then Richard, we must away! There is a rehearsal to practice!" Andre ushered Firmin off the stage.

"Of course, of course. Good luck to you all!" Firmin said.

As the managers left, everyone looked at one another questionably. Where were they to start? Meg knew her mother was never one to delay and immediately she began to give orders.

"Well don't just stand there! From the beginning, if you please Monsieur Reyer! Everyone to there places!"

The company bustled about as everyone again set up for rehearsal, this time with Christine taking the lead. Meg smiled to herself. Another job well done. Of course, she knew she wouldn't be acknowledged for it, but it didn't matter. As long as Christine finally got her chance to shine and she was able to dance. Life could go on as it always did…

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