I had been instructing Christine for over three months now and her
accomplishments were simply astounding. As I had known it would, her voice
had grown upward and onward under my tutelage. When she'd come each
morning into her dressing room, she would gaze somewhere towards the
ceiling and smile shyly. Oddly, she always sensed when I was there behind
her mirror. Her perception made me disconcerted. Hesitantly, she would
lay down her cloak and whisper "Angel?" And then my heart would begin to
beat once more and I felt as though I could finally breathe. Hours between
her lessons lagged with an eternal sluggishness. At times, we would
briefly talk about various subjects - her father, her childhood, happenings
in Paris and such. One morning, I made a sarcastic comment about the new
dancer who truly jumped around like a frightened rat in rehearsals. I was
rewarded with her bell-like laughter before she self-consciously silenced
her mirth. Standing behind the mirror, I stared at her in wonder while she
blushed demurely. Forgetting myself, I softly whispered, "You have a
beautiful, lyrical laugh, my Dear." At this her head came up and she
looked partially confused. I was much more careful with my veneration of
her after that. It would not do for her to think me a mere mortal.
Tonight would be her debut onstage in 'Hannibal' and I waited for her anxiously. Suddenly, she came into her dressing room and I closed my eyes in relief and smiled. True to habit, she murmured "Angel?" as she lay down her cloak and fluffed her hair in an unconscious, extremely attractive, feminine gesture.
"I am here, Christine." My voice floated in the air around her, caressing her as my hands so longed to do.
Christine smiled tightly and began to wring her hands nervously. Observant of her distress, I asked her tenderly, "What is it, child?"
To my surprise, she burst into sudden tears. Sitting down at her dressing table, she wiped her eyes and apologized. "I am sorry, Angel. But I am so scared. I do not think I can do this." She stared down at her hands looking so forlorn that I wished I could rush into the room and take her in my arms.
Thinking how I could best soothe her stage fright, I reminded her gently "My Dear, you have practiced the role many times here in this dressing room. You will exceed all expectations. Do you think I would allow you to take the stage if you were not yet ready?"
Looking up trembling, she smiled slightly and sighed. "No. No, you would not. I am sorry, Angel. I do not doubt you. I only doubt myself." So softly I had to strain to hear her, she whispered "I hope I do not fail you."
Prior to this moment, I'd thought it impossible to love her more. My heart aching with love, I assured her "You will not fail me, Christine. You will triumph. I am certain of it." I continued silently in my mind to say the words I so wanted to speak 'You have been so dedicated. I love you so very much.' Instead, I found myself leaning up against the mirror with both hands trying to get as physically close to her as possible.
She wiped her tears away and looked up with more confidence than she felt. "Yes, I trust you."
Unable to speak, I simply overflowed with love for her. 'Oh, Christine!', I thought desperately while closing my eyes against the unexpected pain.
Christine stood bravely and smoothed her dress. "Shall we begin, Maestro?"
Jolted from my reverie, I answered, "No, my Dear. Today you shall rest your voice for the performance this evening. I'd like for you to lie on the divan to quiet your voice and your mind. You must prepare yourself."
She looked around in engaging confusion. God, I had completely lost my heart to her. "We will not practice today?"
My smile was evident in my voice. "No, not today, child. It is just as important for you to learn when to rest your voice as when to practice. This task will require as much, if not more, discipline from you. I believe it will be rather difficult for you to relax your body and mind but it is quite essential. Do not fear. I will be with you before, during and after your performance. You will astound Paris, Christine.
Tremulously, she smiled in acknowledgment. Sitting back on the divan, she asked with childlike fear "You won't leave me, will you?"
Answering her honestly, I whole-heartedly promised, "I will never leave you, Christine. Never. Not unless you wish it."
"That is not likely, my Angel." She lay back against the divan, closing her eyes and unknowingly, smiled like a seductress. In her innocence, she had no idea how alluring she was. I watched over her the remainder of the afternoon while she slept until it was time for her to prepare for the performance. Blowing her a silent kiss, I retreated to Box Five.
Christine had been studying the part for two months and I knew she would make a sensation. The entire audience had risen to their feet in praise of her when she took the first of many bows. She was superb and I'd never been more proud in my entire life. So astounded was I that I could not even join in the enthusiastic applause. I merely sat and stared at her, buried in flowers on the stage, while I cried silent, loving tears. Eventually, after her final bow and when most of the patrons were gone, I made my way to her dressing room to congratulate her. It was a good thing that I knew the route by memory, since I was quite overcome. As I stole behind her mirror, she was talking with Meg and her dresser. After they left, I watched as she brushed her luxurious curls at her dressing table. Slowly, she set the brush down and whispered "Angel?"
About to answer her, I was rudely interrupted by a loud, obnoxious knock at her door. Waltzing in with shocking familiarity was a young, blonde boy with a bottle of champagne under one arm. I was quite prepared to open the mirror and defend Christine against this arrogant intruder, if need be. How dare he! Finally, it became clear that Christine and this boy had been childhood acquaintances. He presumed upon her to escort her to dinner which she very wisely refused. The audacity of this fashion-obsessed, young nobleman stunned me into an action I'd only dreamt of but never thought of seriously attempted. When he finally left Christine alone again, I began to sing to her utilizing every hypnotic nuance and vocal persuasion I'd ever learned. The need to keep her to myself - all to myself - would not be ignored anymore.
Her body stood from her chair as a rudimentary, instinctual awareness grew within her. When she turned to look towards my voice, her expression revealed dazed, rapturous recognition. With shaking hands, I opened the mirror and she slowly came to me. My breath halted as I offered her my trembling hand, all the while continuing to sing to her.
When I first touched her skin, my hand tingled with electricity and my soul indelibly became hers.
I wove the musical enchantment around the both of us as we stood close to each other for the first time. The moment transcended normal human comprehension and time stood still as we gazed upon one another. I could not speak for Christine, but for me, it was as though my entire life had been orchestrated to bring me to that precise second. Her beauty was amplified ten-fold as I finally adored at her up close. Leading her down towards my lair, I kept surrounding her with the warm power of my voice, even as my legs felt weak beneath me.
Tonight would be her debut onstage in 'Hannibal' and I waited for her anxiously. Suddenly, she came into her dressing room and I closed my eyes in relief and smiled. True to habit, she murmured "Angel?" as she lay down her cloak and fluffed her hair in an unconscious, extremely attractive, feminine gesture.
"I am here, Christine." My voice floated in the air around her, caressing her as my hands so longed to do.
Christine smiled tightly and began to wring her hands nervously. Observant of her distress, I asked her tenderly, "What is it, child?"
To my surprise, she burst into sudden tears. Sitting down at her dressing table, she wiped her eyes and apologized. "I am sorry, Angel. But I am so scared. I do not think I can do this." She stared down at her hands looking so forlorn that I wished I could rush into the room and take her in my arms.
Thinking how I could best soothe her stage fright, I reminded her gently "My Dear, you have practiced the role many times here in this dressing room. You will exceed all expectations. Do you think I would allow you to take the stage if you were not yet ready?"
Looking up trembling, she smiled slightly and sighed. "No. No, you would not. I am sorry, Angel. I do not doubt you. I only doubt myself." So softly I had to strain to hear her, she whispered "I hope I do not fail you."
Prior to this moment, I'd thought it impossible to love her more. My heart aching with love, I assured her "You will not fail me, Christine. You will triumph. I am certain of it." I continued silently in my mind to say the words I so wanted to speak 'You have been so dedicated. I love you so very much.' Instead, I found myself leaning up against the mirror with both hands trying to get as physically close to her as possible.
She wiped her tears away and looked up with more confidence than she felt. "Yes, I trust you."
Unable to speak, I simply overflowed with love for her. 'Oh, Christine!', I thought desperately while closing my eyes against the unexpected pain.
Christine stood bravely and smoothed her dress. "Shall we begin, Maestro?"
Jolted from my reverie, I answered, "No, my Dear. Today you shall rest your voice for the performance this evening. I'd like for you to lie on the divan to quiet your voice and your mind. You must prepare yourself."
She looked around in engaging confusion. God, I had completely lost my heart to her. "We will not practice today?"
My smile was evident in my voice. "No, not today, child. It is just as important for you to learn when to rest your voice as when to practice. This task will require as much, if not more, discipline from you. I believe it will be rather difficult for you to relax your body and mind but it is quite essential. Do not fear. I will be with you before, during and after your performance. You will astound Paris, Christine.
Tremulously, she smiled in acknowledgment. Sitting back on the divan, she asked with childlike fear "You won't leave me, will you?"
Answering her honestly, I whole-heartedly promised, "I will never leave you, Christine. Never. Not unless you wish it."
"That is not likely, my Angel." She lay back against the divan, closing her eyes and unknowingly, smiled like a seductress. In her innocence, she had no idea how alluring she was. I watched over her the remainder of the afternoon while she slept until it was time for her to prepare for the performance. Blowing her a silent kiss, I retreated to Box Five.
Christine had been studying the part for two months and I knew she would make a sensation. The entire audience had risen to their feet in praise of her when she took the first of many bows. She was superb and I'd never been more proud in my entire life. So astounded was I that I could not even join in the enthusiastic applause. I merely sat and stared at her, buried in flowers on the stage, while I cried silent, loving tears. Eventually, after her final bow and when most of the patrons were gone, I made my way to her dressing room to congratulate her. It was a good thing that I knew the route by memory, since I was quite overcome. As I stole behind her mirror, she was talking with Meg and her dresser. After they left, I watched as she brushed her luxurious curls at her dressing table. Slowly, she set the brush down and whispered "Angel?"
About to answer her, I was rudely interrupted by a loud, obnoxious knock at her door. Waltzing in with shocking familiarity was a young, blonde boy with a bottle of champagne under one arm. I was quite prepared to open the mirror and defend Christine against this arrogant intruder, if need be. How dare he! Finally, it became clear that Christine and this boy had been childhood acquaintances. He presumed upon her to escort her to dinner which she very wisely refused. The audacity of this fashion-obsessed, young nobleman stunned me into an action I'd only dreamt of but never thought of seriously attempted. When he finally left Christine alone again, I began to sing to her utilizing every hypnotic nuance and vocal persuasion I'd ever learned. The need to keep her to myself - all to myself - would not be ignored anymore.
Her body stood from her chair as a rudimentary, instinctual awareness grew within her. When she turned to look towards my voice, her expression revealed dazed, rapturous recognition. With shaking hands, I opened the mirror and she slowly came to me. My breath halted as I offered her my trembling hand, all the while continuing to sing to her.
When I first touched her skin, my hand tingled with electricity and my soul indelibly became hers.
I wove the musical enchantment around the both of us as we stood close to each other for the first time. The moment transcended normal human comprehension and time stood still as we gazed upon one another. I could not speak for Christine, but for me, it was as though my entire life had been orchestrated to bring me to that precise second. Her beauty was amplified ten-fold as I finally adored at her up close. Leading her down towards my lair, I kept surrounding her with the warm power of my voice, even as my legs felt weak beneath me.