A/N: The beginning is going to start off kind of slow, but the juicy parts would come soon enough depending on you guys. So please if you're reading this could you leave a comment. It can be short, I don't care, but I would truly appreciate the feedback. Thanks again to my lovely beta Megan. Read and review please!
Chapter 1- The Arrival"Shit, shit! I'm late," muttered Meg Garrison. The twenty-seven-year-old blonde hopped into her silver Megane and sped off towards the Charles de Gaulle airport.
She brushed back her bangs and checked her make-up once more in the rearview mirror before returning her eyes back to the road. "The messenger and deliverer lives again," she said aloud, rolling her eyes.
Meg was on her way to pick up the American—Christine Dawson. Normally one of the interns will do this kind of chore, but Dawson was also bunking with Meg during her stay as Faust runs through. She wasn't at all thrilled with the sudden arrangement and already began to loathe the girl. I hope she doesn't expect me to baby-sit her, she thought bitterly and if she did, then Dawson would find herself on the next plane back to New York.
Meg found out about her new roommate not from her mother (who did the arranging), but from one of the dancers Jamie. How she knew before Meg, she didn't know but was glad that someone told her.
Meg was in the costume room having her costume for Sibel fitted when little Jamie came flying in.
"Meg! I heard the owner found a replacement for Maria!"
"I know."
"You do? How?" the girl demanded. If there was one thing about Jamie it was gossip and if anyone else knew the news before her, well, she would like to think all Hell would break loose.
Meg winked. "My mother. Who else?"
"Oh. Then you probably know about her living with you."
Meg's jaw dropped ungracefully. "WHAT!"
"You didn't know?" Jamie replied, grinning at her luck with something Meg didn't know. "Madame Garrison was the one who volunteered you to house Christine Dawson. I can't believe she didn't tell you."
"That makes both of us," Meg grumbled unhappily. It wasn't that she wanted a roommate; in fact, she was just starting to get use living alone once her cousin left for London. But it was so like her mother to plan something and leave her in the dark until the last minute.
"And she wants you to pick her up from Charles de Gaulle this Friday at one-thirty."
"WHAT!"
"Relax Meg! It's not that bad. At least you have some free time instead of practicing your lines or steps," Jamie pointed out.
"I suppose." Meg sighed. "I hope she's good. I don't think I can stand another Maria."
Jamie laughed. "I don't think anyone can. I wonder where they picked this one from?"
Meg smirked. Aha! Something she doesn't know. Oh this will be good, she thought devilishly. "Well, remember the business trip the owner went on to New York? I heard he went to some musical and heard her. She was signed up right there immediately."
It was Jamie's turn for her jaw to drop. "Really? Then she must be terribly good for that to happen!" she exclaimed excitingly. "After all she has Maria's shoes to fill. And I mean big shoes."
"I think anyone who can sing could." The girls laughed at their little joke before becoming serious.
"Meg, do you know what happened to her?"
"No." And it was the truth. Her mother wouldn't speak of it no matter how hard Meg pressed. She was good at keeping secrets, a trait that extremely annoyed Meg as much as her lack of news reporting.
"Stacey says it was the Ghost!"
Meg rolled her eyes. Unlike most of the performers and workers, Meg never believed in the legend of the Phantom of the Opera. Growing up she did but when you reached a certain age in your life, all your childish fears and beliefs vanishes into thin air. And that's what happened to Meg. She outgrew the Phantom, yet Jamie and the others especially Maria were firm believers.
"So what did your 'Ghost' do?"
All the color on Jamie's face drained leaving her ghastly pale. "Meg if he should hear you…"
"It," Meg corrected. "Besides, Jamie I've been saying it doesn't exist for years and you don't see me disappearing."
"Whatever. Stacey says that the first time Maria came in contact with the Ghost was a few months ago and even then she thought it was a practical joke done by us or Joseph Brolin."
"Joseph Brolin wouldn't waste his time scaring Maria. He was probably out buying drugs or drinking, his favorite pastimes," she retorted.
"Anyways, after the casting was set Maria went to her dressing room and found Carlotta, you know her bird—"
"Oh yes I do." Carlotta was the perfect name for Maria's parrot. She never shuts up.
"Someone broke Carlotta's little neck and twisted her head around!" Jamie gasped. "Imagine finding your pet like that! I thought of The Godfather right away. And it didn't stop there. A few times Maria's belongings would go missing and turn up somewhere else, but it never stopped her. The night she left, something horrible happened. While she was sleeping at her apartment a pair of cold hands wrapped around her throat cutting off her air tube! Maria woke up right away but there was no one there! The next morning she found these purplish bruises on her throat!"
"Jamie…"
"Meg I'm dead serious! Maria almost died! Someone was trying to strangle her but she didn't see anyone. And the markings! It was why she wore those scarves all the time. It was the Phantom!"
"You ever thought that maybe Maria imagined it? Do you know how crazy that sounds?"
"To anyone, yes! But it was him! He wanted Maria out of the Garnier. And he almost killed her!"
"Jamie, honey, ghosts don't exist and therefore can't kill the living. Stacey might be pulling your chain…"
"No! It's true Meg Garrison! And one day you will upset him and he'll come after you!" warned the ballet rat.
Meg snorted with laughter furthering infuriating little Jamie. She glared daggers at her and was about to tell her more when a cold draft settled in the room. It sent chills down the girls' spines and they looked around for what caused the sudden drop in temperature. A low, maniacal laugh echoed through the walls and ceiling as both quickly rushed out with frightened faces.
It still gave Meg goose bumps at the thought of what happened that Tuesday. She told herself it was some intern trying to be cute and it somewhat put her at eased. Ghosts. Such nonsense.
But it didn't stop the nervous chuckle that arose. Her mother, Adele Garrison, always told her to be on guard in her surroundings and be careful what she says in the corridors. The menacing tone Adele used often terrified Meg as a child and she would always made sure she was obeying her mother.
Meg checked the time. One thirty-two. So she was a little late. The flight probably didn't come in on time anyways and Christine Dawson might still be in the air. She leaned back in her seat and started humming. No song in particular.
Dawson was aware of the arrangement but it wasn't Meg who informed her. That was Adele's doing as always. She didn't know anything about her except her background in musicals.
Meg pulled into the parking lot and head off running towards Gate 21 flight 421. After getting lost a few times, she finally was able to find it. Glancing around, Meg couldn't find any candidate that might match Dawson. Sighing, she dug through her purse looking for the sign Adele made her make. "Sometimes she still thinks I'm a child," Meg mumbled under her breath, taking hold of the little white poster board and held it out.
Some people like to get creative when it comes to welcoming someone, but Meg didn't bother. It was white with Christine Dawson written in black marker. She scanned the mass of people coming out, calling out the said name. A few looked in her direction but weren't her.
She held the sign up higher in case she was short. A few minutes passed until a soft-spoken voice called out, "I'm Christine Dawson."
Meg lowered the sign to see a young woman around her early twenties standing in front of her. She was pleasant looking with soft raven curls tied up in a neat ponytail, a few strands framing her petite porcelain face and her friendly hazel eyes gazing at Meg. She was a little shorter than Meg around 5'2" she estimated from the looks. The girl gave her a bright smile and held out her hand.
"I take it you must be my roommate Meg Garrison."
xxXXxx
Christine wasn't sure what to expect when she arrived in Paris. She couldn't get over the shock that she was hired to sing at none other than the Garnier! When her agent, Doris Williams, told her the owner of the theatre personally asked if she would come to play Marguerite in the upcoming production of Faust, she couldn't say no!
All her life she wanted to sing opera. It was natural since her mother was the Metropolitan's star and her father was the leading violinist in the orchestra. She grew up surrounded by the classics and started off in the chorus. She loved singing by her mother and one day aspired to follow in her footsteps.
But all those hopes and dreams came to an end when at the age of eleven, her mother died of a brain hemorrhage. It was very sudden without any warnings. Her death devastated Christine and her father, Charles. After the funeral, the Dawsons moved to Detroit to San Francisco and then back to New York. Her return back to her home city at fifteen was to live with an old friend of her mother's Valerie Harper after Charles died of a heart attack.
She hated to admit it, but she knew his death would come eventually. Charles and Matilda Dawson were very much in love and her mother's death was extremely hard for him. She watched her father fade away each day and he never picked up his violin anymore. There were moments when the old Charles would return and they would have fun, but for the most part he kept to himself until he died of a broken heart. Christine was lost when her father died and vowed never to sing again. She couldn't handle the old memories it brought of the better days when both were alive and well.
Ms. Harper, or Mama Val she preferred (she was bit of a kook but sweet), took in Christine. She remembered Mama Val well from her childhood and did her best to ensure Christine's happiness. She wasn't just a guardian to the girl, but a dear friend who helped her through the tough times whenever she needed it. She didn't like her giving up singing, but she didn't pressure her. It was Christine's decision to make, though Mama Val hoped the child would reconsider. If not for herself than for her parents' memory.
At eighteen, she attended Juilliard to study ballet. She made a mistake (no regrets now) by singing to herself and after some encouragement from teachers and friends; she took up singing once more. Christine especially had to give her thanks to her best friend, Heather Kane. If it hadn't been for her constant nagging, Christine wouldn't be in this position.
She took up singing part-time at the Swing 44, a dance club and restaurant where she met Doris. After graduating, Christine went on to work as understudy for the show Momma Mia! and later was granted the lead as Sarah Brown in Guys and Dolls. Recently she was playing Cosette in Les Miserables for the past couple of seasons until this job offer popped up.
Christine always wanted to travel to Paris and this was the perfect opportunity! Though, when Doris informed her of this, she wasn't just excited but also had this feeling she couldn't describe. It was like… part of her yearned to go to the city, almost a thrill after returning home from a long trip. But she shrugged it off as the preparations were being made.
Christine corresponded with the head ballet mistress, Adele Garrison, about what to expect and her living arrangements. She was informed she would stay with Adele's daughter for the time being. Christine didn't want to intrude on such short notice, but Adele (she preferred Christine calling her by first name) claimed it was no intrusion and that Meg would be delighted. So it was set.
When Doris told her of the news, she never met the owner. Doris assured her he was charming and that he knew the best when he sees it. The thought flattered Christine and before she knew it she was flying over the Atlantic. Looking out below, the city was breathtaking and Christine couldn't wait to explore her adopted new home. During the trip, she wondered what Meg was like and her mother and the owner. Would she like her boss? Would she enjoy working here? Would she make some friends? These were some of the thoughts that were racing through her mind as the plane touched down.
One of her worries was whether or not Meg was waiting. Adele didn't give her much of a description for her to go by, just that she was a few years older with shoulder-length blonde with honey-brown highlights. To Christine that could mean anything, but Adele told her that Meg would find her.
When she disembarked, she checked to make sure her backpack was secured and then pushed her way through to look for her pickup. She peered through the crowds, looking for a blonde with highlights.
Christine was about to give up (as she saw many possibilities and none of them were Meg) until she heard her name being shouted out.
People were shoving her and she tried to go in the direction of her name, but was having no luck in tracking it. Thank God she happened to see a sign being hoisted up with her name in dark print.
Exhaling the air she was holding, Christine headed towards it to find a woman with the little description Adele told her. She was pretty; Christine noted when she said it was she. Meg was about a few inches taller than her and built with a small figure. Adele said once that her daughter been dancing ballet her whole life and it was evident. Her arms were slender, long, and muscular as dancers are and she was thin, not anorexic but good for her stature. Her blonde and brown mix tresses were slightly wavy, framing her oval-shaped face and big ocean blue eyes.
Christine held out her hand and after a brief second, Meg shook it. She smiled widely at her. "Oui, I'm Megara Garrison, well Meg if you like. Welcome to France!"
"I'm really thrilled to be here. I can't believe I'm in Paris."
"I hope you like it here. Let's get your stuff and drop them at my place before heading to the opera house. Then later I'll take you around. I'm sure you would love walking down the Champs-Elysees." She doesn't seem to be that bad. Maybe I was wrong to judge her so quick, Meg thought.
Christine grinned happily and nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."
xxXXxx
The ride to Meg's apartment was pleasant for both girls. They had plenty to talk about, mostly about their careers and the Garnier.
"You have to admit everyone's surprise when the owner did what he did. Do you know how hard it is to find someone to replace a name big as Maria Giovanni?" Meg laughed.
"I guess so. I was completely stunned to be asked to come here in her place. I follow opera and I never heard her sing before. Supposedly, she's a big shot in Europe huh?"
"You have no idea. Though consider yourself lucky. She has a nice voice, but it's nothing to make a big deal about. At times she sounded like she was shrieking instead of singing. And she was such a joy to work with," Meg muttered. "Constant complaining, bitchy attitude, queen of the universe, you know the usual Prima Donna rants."
"Oh yeah she sounds great," Christine chuckled. "So why did she leave then?"
Meg grew silent. Licking her lips, she smiled timidly. "She was always making threats in leaving if something wasn't done. Like a bigger room, more pay, etc. It could have been the last straw, probably an argument over her contract or something. Who knows?"
"Oh. Then wouldn't the understudy take over?"
The girl let out a sound between a nervous laugh and a sigh. Christine couldn't decide which.
"She would have, but Cat left with Maria. They were cousins, close family."
"I see." Christine didn't press it further. It was apparent this was one topic Meg did not wish to discuss.
After a few moments, Meg pulled up and stopped. "We're here. Home sweet home."
Meg helped Christine with her luggage and together they shuffled into the elevator. Getting off, the blonde had to introduce Christine to some of her neighbors before going to her place, 313.
"My mother says the only way to counteract bad luck is to use bad luck," Meg explained. "To me, it's just the number thirteen. Nothing special."
"I take it then she's superstitious," commented the brunette.
Meg rolled her eyes. "You have no idea. Oh and by the way, so are the rest of the cast and crew. You'll get use to it quick. But if you pretend to show an interest they'll love you forever."
"Gotcha."
Meg grinned and opened the door. "Come and enter my humble abode." Christine followed her in and gaped in awe.
The apartment was quaint, but stylish. Stepping inside was the living room/den and all the rooms (bathroom and two bedrooms) were on the right. A coffee brown couch faced the left wall with an oval-shaped glass table held up by black legs curving upwards. Up against the cream-colored walls and maple wood border was a maple entertainment center with a 32" TV inside. A rack was placed next to it filled with an assortment of DVDs. The carpet was beige and soft underneath Christine's shoes and different posters of movies and musicals were hanging up all over. Straight ahead were a couple of tan recliners with a brass lamp on top of a wooden nightstand. Meg had a couple of bookshelves containing some books, but it was mostly used to place flower pots and little figurines of dancers for decorations.
A cutout wall that looked through separated the kitchen from the living room. From what Christine could see, the walls were painted a light peach color with a fold up card table to eat from.
Meg went over to the far room, gesturing to it. "That's your room and the bathroom is in between us. Kitchen's there though you're not going to find much. I didn't go shopping yesterday like I was supposed to. And here," she paused until she was standing by the coffee table with her arms stretched out. "This is where you have access to hot actors galore. I hope you like Johnny Depp and Gerard Butler. They're my favorite homeboys."
"Both are my favorites too." Christine looked around and grinned. She was definitely going to love it here. She could already tell.
"Great. If you want you can start unpacking before we head over to the slave gallery."
Christine shook her head, chuckling. "All right. I'm looking forward to seeing the Garnier. I've only saw it in pictures."
"Well, I'm not much into the whole architecture biz but it is one of the most beautiful buildings I've ever seen. I practically grew up there."
"Wow."
Meg shrugged. "Yeah, well, not many people can appreciate the simple things these days. It's historical but amazing. Trust me, after seeing it you will have a hard time comparing it to anything else. While you get settle in I'm going to call my mother. I promised her I would call once you got here."
"Okay." Christine lugged her suitcases into the room Meg directed her to.
It wasn't super big but enough room for her. The walls were a pale baby blue with matching carpet. In the middle was her bed with a transition of blues, starting with a deep hue to a lighter color. Three pillows were propped up against the headboard with a sketch of an Angel above. On the bed's left side was white and brown wood nightstand with a white lamp. The room's left side was a small window with blue drapes and a white wood dresser pressed against the corner of the bed's right side. By the door was a mirrored closet.
Christine took the largest suitcase and lay on the bed. Taking out her clothes, she danced around while singing her favorite Kelly Clarkson song, "Behind These Hazel Eyes". She knew she would be doing some shopping for her other needs, but for now the things she packed would do for the time being. She tossed in her socks in one of the drawers, while catching a glimpse of outside. She peered out and right away loved the view she got.
On the streets were a bunch of little shops and a café at the corner, but from staring out in a distance she could make out what had to be the Opera l'Garnier. Christine estimated about a fifteen to twenty minute drive, give or take a few depending on traffic. She had to give Meg a lot of credit. Her residence was completely different from the apartment Christine had back home. The only view she got in the morning was her neighbor from across big hairy belly when he wakes. Not something you want to see first thing in the morning.
She went back to her unpacking and went through two of her four luggage pieces until Meg came knocking in.
"I just got done talking to my mother. She says for us to go over now."
"I'm practically done so I'll do the rest later then. I can't wait to see the opera house!" Christine squealed like a schoolgirl.
Meg laughed. "Well, I won't keep you in suspense any longer."
xxXXxx
The drive took a bit longer than it was expected due to the wondrous rush hour. Meg cursed under her breath as another pedestrian bolted out in front of her.
"You got to love Parisian traffic and people," she drawled. "At least you're getting a look at life in the city."
Christine nodded. "You think this is bad you need to spend a day in New York. But from experience, it's not as bad as it there."
"I've been wanting to go there. Think about it, Fifth Avenue and Macy's. A girl can lose a lot of money there."
Christine laughed. "True."
"So do you think you can pull this off? I mean playing Marguerite in French?"
"Of course. My mother did Faust long ago and I know I can handle this. That's how I first was exposed to the language. That and I took it in high school. I remember when my mom had a hard time pronouncing some of the words and knowing what they meant. I was seven at the time and I just looked through the lines and started translating them without any trouble."
"Really?" Meg asked, astounded.
"Yeah. She asked me how did I know and the funny thing was… I just did. The same when the words were repeated back to me aloud. I knew what was being said without knowing beforehand. You can imagine how I did in class."
Meg whistled low. "That's something all right. Did you have any relatives from here then?"
Christine shook her head. "Nope. I had some family from England and Italy. But not from France."
"Oh. Well, just to let you know Monsieur Roberts is going to work on your voice. He probably will be strict with you."
"No problem. When I'm dedicated I'm dedicated to my work. I shouldn't disappoint anyone, if that's the case."
"I doubt it. But that kind of perseverance is going make you come on top. Don't forget that. Hey, we're here."
Christine looked out the window and gasped. The Garnier stood out proudly as cars came flying by. The pictures she seen couldn't have done it justice in person. The sunlight hit the golden statues at the right angle, illuminating the beauty of the building. She couldn't wait to get inside to see the interior.
Home sweet home is right, she thought. Little did she know what waited for her beyond the doors.
TBC…
Christine's in Paris finally. I just also want to say I never been to Paris or the Opera Garnier so basically I'm going by from what I seen in pictures and stuff. So don't sue me. Now hit that button and review!