Author's Note: Sorry for the week long wait everyone. The site wasn't letting me submit my document in for some reason. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! And thank you to scarletghost13 and the Mouse in the Opera House for those reviews:)
Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, now, who is the fairest one of all?
It was the night of the second showing of Hannibal and Christine stood in the middle of a small room backstage. They had given the cast call about ten minutes before, and she now was surrounded by everyone in full costume.
When someone announced the aria for Christine was about to begin, she stopped just before the door, a wave of neasua overwhelming her. Calm down! My Angel is relying on me, I can not disappoint him now for being nervous! Suddenly, the feeling of the night before came to Christine in full force: the freedom and power she had once on stage. She could do this; she loved being on stage, loved the feel of it, the excitement.
Christine took a deep breath and approached the stage. The curtains were about to open. She could hear Reyer starting the orchestra. The music in the opening aria of Think of Me reached a peak, and the curtains flew open. "This is for you, Angel," Christine whispered as the spotlight shone on her.
Remembering words that her father once spoke, she closed her eyes and found a sort of peace. She used to sing to herself after her father died. When no one else was listening and no one else was near except for her angel, she would sing as best as she could. It was the only connection left that she had with him. Perhaps he could hear her through the angel, even from heaven above. Even now, as a young woman, she found that singing was the only way she could alleviate the fear of being alone without him. The melody suddenly found its way into her words, and she felt her voice move into song.
The opera ran smoothly. Her song continued without incident, and the audience roared their approval as her voice faded with the last word. Up above, she knew an angel beamed down at her with satisfaction.
La Carlotta was seated high above in a balcony, accompanied by three gentlemen, one more noticable then the other two, the Opera Populaire's patron, the Viscomte Raoul de Chagny. He smiled as the young girl sang with that angelic voice of hers...something seemed so familiar about her, but the Viscomte couldn't quite put his finger on it.
Carlotta was trying hard not to pay any attention to the talented young woman performing tonight, but instead insisted on bickering throughout the entire opera. "That girl, I could just strangle her! She took my position as prima donna and these people actually enjoy listening to her!" Carlotta raged with jealousy, as she waved her hand over the audience, all intrigued by the wonderful beauty before them. "Christine Daae will pay for this!" Carlotta said throughgritted teeth.
"Christine..." Raoul whispered the name before he finally realized who she could be. "Christine Daae! Is it she?"
"Don't tell me you actually are in relations with the girl!" Carlotta asked, shocked.
"Why, yes. Yes, I am." Raoul smiled wickedly, an evil glint in his normally cheerful blue eyes. "I guess you can say we were childhood sweethearts. If only I knew one day she was to become a star..."
Carlotta snorted at the regretful man and turned to the other two. "I have a plan that I wish to discuss with you both. We'll leave the Vicomte out of this for now," Carlotta whispered deviously. "Meet me in my dressing room tomorrow morning." The two hit men grinned, already guessing what Carlotta had in store for them.
At the end of the night, the curtain rose one last time, and everyone bowed deeply. Roses were thrown onto the stage, and Christine couldn't help but smile broadly. After what seemed an eternity, the curtains finally closed again. Christine began to walk slowly through the crowds, nodding when she could at people wishing her congratulations. It seemed an effort just to walk and breathe at the same time. But there was one other person she wished to speak to before drifting off to sleep that night...
Meg Giry gracefully walked throughout the hallways, taking a short break from her dance rehearsals. Her mother was being quite ridiculous nowadays, Meg noticed. They had just finished another opera last night, plus celebration and festivites afterwards, and still the ballet mistress expected all her dancers to show up that next morning to practice.
Meg sighed, realizing she had been gone now for awhile and her mother was probably starting to get worried. Well, more angry than anything else. She began to walk her way slowly towards the stage when she heard voices in a nearby room.
Curiousity getting the best of her, Meg wandered over to the door emanating the secretive voices. She pressed her ear against the wooden door, for the voices were speaking very low as for no one else to hear them, when she realized she was leaning against the old soprano's dressing room! Soon enough, Meg's ears met the obnoxious voice of Carlotta as she seemed to be adressing a few men. Once they spoke up, it was two men to be exact. She didn't recognize their voices, but they reminded her a little too much like Joseph Buquet, with greasy voices to match their personalites.
Meg pressed her entire body against the door in hopes of hearing the entire conversation clearly, but almost stumbled back when she heard the name of her best friend, Christine Daae, being said. The next statement actually made her gasp aloud.
"Take her far out of Paris. Find some secluded glade where you will not be seen."
"Yes, Madame."
"And there, my faithful huntsman, you will kill her! You know the penalty if you fail."
"Yes, Madame, it will be done."
"But to make doubly sure you do not fail, bring back her heart in this." Carlotta commanded the men, her voice dripped with malice and jealously boiling up inside of her.
The statement made Meg's blood run cold and she was beginning to feel sick. She was hearing the plan for the murder of her very best friend! Meg backed away slowly, shaking her head, as if she had just seen the Opera Ghost.
"Megan Giry! What in God's name do you think you're doing?" her mother shrieked, coming down the hallway in a whirl of fury. "Were you not supposed to be rehearsing?"
Meg was in such a state of shock she wasn't comprehending anything her mother was screaming at her. "Now, young lady, don't you dare give me that look! You should be ashamed of yourself! Now, get back to practicing!"
The minute her mother was out of sight, Meg spun around and headed in the opposite direction, towards the only place she figured Christine would be...the chapel.
Sorry, momon, but I have more important things to take care of!
Author's Note: This chapter is based off of the scene in Snow White where the Queen is intructing the huntsman to bring Snow White to the forest, kill her and bring her heart back as proof. The conversation I use in my story between Carlotta and the hit men is actually very similiar to the one in the movie. In the movie, no one overheard their conversation like Meg did in my story, but the huntsman does end up saving Snow White by not killing her, and instead telling her to run away. So, in a sense, Meg is playing the good side of the huntsman from Snow White. Of course, I didn't want the hit men in my story to end up being the good guys, so they'll be playing the bad side of the huntsman from Snow White. Wow, I hope I made a bit of sense. ;)