Author's notes: We get to the good stuff in the next chapter. Now is the time to go through Hannibal… fast.
Nota Lone – too true, too true. This should be fun…
lady kathrin – thanks! Here's the next chapter.
Enrinye – (maniacal grin)
X X X
Chapter 3 – InstinctX X X X
Ballet practice wasn't exactly exciting. Meg wanted to snap something at her "mother", but unfortunately, the Meg part of her controlled the reflex. Amanda wouldn't have hesitated. Amanda thought that while the whole thing of her and Gin being in the Opera was cool, hopping around in a revealing slave girl outfit wasn't much better than hopping around in a tutu. She knew the moves mechanically and it was obvious that she was a more prominent dancer. It was also obvious why that was – Madame Giry never trained anyone harder than her own daughter.
Christine spent most of the time wondering what she would do when things meant to happen would happen, praying that her voice would be at least as good as the dancing and frowning at the new managers. The costume she wore wasn't much to her liking – the top was alright, but the "skirt" was not. She would have never, ever worn something like that, if it had been up to her. It was one of the reasons why she had never in her wildest dreams even considered the career of a ballerina. Even the "real" Christine part of her wasn't completely and utterly happy about it.
The two girls had made plans before going to sleep, for the rehearsal and the first production of the year. Knowing what to expect from the last rehearsal where they would have to suffer Carlotta's presence, they were fully prepared. Meg, knowing that not that much was required of her, assumed the role of "the ingénue coach". She knew that they would have to work on the deer-in-highlights expressions, because Christine always burst out laughing when she tried that for more than ten seconds.
Christine kept hiding behind Meg from the moment the Vicomte de Chagny came into view. The later he would notice her, the better, they reasoned, so until Meg signaled he was gone, the brunette kept her head bowed, trying her best to be invisible. Inwardly, she was repeating the Think Of Me lyrics and melody. It troubled her that there were several versions of the lyrics, but she decided to go for the movie style, since everything around her was movie style.
They took extra care when avoiding the (predictably) falling backdrop and Meg kept glancing up even before that happened, hoping to get a glimpse of their "target". It appeared, much to her disappointment, that he had earned the title of Opera Ghost by right. Not even his shadow came into view. It was the first time Meg got to practice her surprised shrieking – and, narrowly avoiding laughter when Carlotta hit the floor. Well, her dress was so large that she had probably not hurt herself at all, but she and Christine were still suppressing giggles and saving the imitating and mocking her voice for later.
It took extreme willpower not to laugh at the managers´ faces when Madame Giry brought forth a piece of paper with a neatly written message and an envelope with a skull-like red seal. And then, the moment Christine had been bracing herself against for the whole morning had come. Her back was turned to the debate, Meg was trying to calm her one last time, in a very Amanda-ish way.
"Christine Daaé could sing it, sir." Madame Giry stated, without the slightest doubts. With the timid expression that mirrored her mood, Christine turned to the managers and the ballet instructor. She knew what would follow.
"What, a chorus girl?" Andre voiced, shaking his head. "Don't be silly."
"She has been taking lessons from a great teacher."
"By who?"
Oh, you know, an angel visited me, sent by the spirit of my dead father, Christine thought sarcastically, and he kinda seems like the Phantom of the Opera, but that's just a coincidence. "I don't know his name, Monsieur."
"Let her sing for you. She has been well taught." Madame Giry persisted.
Predictably, the managers complied. Christine felt like she was going to throw up. She always felt like that when she was tense – her stomach suddenly became a complete knot, and she couldn't help it. It would be over only if she would finish the damned song or quit. And judging by the glint in Meg´s eyes, she would be dead before she would say she couldn't do it.
So she tried it.
Think of me
Think of me fondly
when we've said goodbye
Remember me
once in a while
please promise me you'll try
She kept casting the managers nervous glances, but they seemed to be very surprised. Actually, she was surprised as well. She wasn't a bad singer, but this was like with the ballet – an instinct. Like someone else was telling her what to do, how to stand, breathe, how to hold her head in position, everything. And the song sounded much better once she became more confident that she could do it.
When you find
that once again you long
to take your heart back and be free
If you ever find a moment
spare a thought for me
Behind her, Meg was forcing herself not to grin like a maniac. They had done it! They had passed the first checkpoint! The new Elissa was secured. She remained in the hyper mood until the night of the gala. The house was indeed full, as Firmin had said, and she had her own part to play, though, as Christine had said, if one slave girl would dance badly, it wouldn't be such a tragedy, but if the lead would mess up… Meg almost wanted to slap her. Goddamit, they had nothing to worry about! She knew the steps, Christine knew the songs. It would be fine.
And it was, naturally – her instinct had never failed her.
She was more concerned about what would happen after the gala, when Fopman would rush straight into Christine's dressing room. They had a debate about this and eventually decided to let him do that. It was a risk, they knew, but it was the only way to bait Erik out of his batcave and make him show up without having to throw heavy objects at a perfectly good mirror. Not even Phantoms were immune to jealousy.
Meg felt almost like the Phantom herself, really – she was now the presence in the background that was guiding someone through the events. It was fun, actually. Backstage, she watched Christine in the Sissi hand-me-down, singing the third act of Hannibal, now completely relaxed. She could tell who her friend was thinking of at that exact moment, and it definitely wasn't Piangi!Hannibal.
And it was really true – Meg´s instinct seemed infallible. Christine, back in the future renown for her ability to recite poetry, had stood before large crowds before. She wasn't that afraid of them. She wasn't singing for them. Once or twice she would glance up at the boxes, searching for number 5, but knew already that even if he would be there, she wouldn't be able to notice. Besides, she was fully aware of the fact that he currently was several floors beneath her – she adored that camera dive in the movie.
When Christine had almost finished, Meg noticed the small, stubby man nearby, who was watching the gala. She smirked. Yes, Carlotta's lapdog was there. Oh, she would pay a fortune to see Carlotta faint when she would hear the news that her days were numbered. Well, she would have to wait for the "Notes" scene tomorrow. That would be entertaining.
Applause surrounded Christine when she finished. Inwardly, her mind screamed: "Wow! You did it! You did it! You did it!" The smile was genuine, but she hurried offstage quickly. She knew the next location she would have to get to – the chapel. They had one last "coded" strategy meeting planned there with Meg before she would go to her dressing room. Her smile widened, turning into a maniacal grin not so different from Meg´s.
The real party hadn't even begun yet.
