Okay, I'm really behind – sorry for the late update! But I had a play competition and a choir competition and a piano competition and an academic competition is coming up and late homework that I'm still not done with… Hey, the school year's ending and all the stuff is packed in.
ElfLover: Is it really a rowboat in the book? I've read it four times and I don't remember that…hm… Anyway, I go by a weird mixture of both – I use mainly stuff from the book, but the managers' names, Erik's apparel – including mask, and some other things come from the musical. One of these things is the gondola – which I shall continue to call simply 'the boat' because I don't like the word 'gondola.' It makes me think of Italy, not the lake under the Opera. Oh – another thing – my Christine is BLOND. All the physical appearances of my characters are as they are in the book. So Christine is blond and Erik's eyes are golden. And so on.
MetaChi: I swear I thought I gave you one – you're in my white spiral notebook – but I checked the story and you're right, you're not in it. Sorry! I'll be sure to give you an appearance in this. And thank you – I just think she'd make an interesting addition to a few chapters.
EriksIngenue: Wow, thanks! Such high praise! Your review made me want to update. So you all have EriksIngenue to thank for this chappie.
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Hana awoke early the next morning in a small room. It didn't look like it was made for living in. A green velvet couch was squeezed into the corner – that was where Hana was laying. On the other side of the small, square, white room, there was a wooden white vanity, with one drawer and a polished surface. Beside the vanity was a large mirror in an ornate gold frame, reaching from the floor almost to the ceiling. Hana rubbed her eyes and squealed at the sight of the mirror. Scrambling out of the couch, she dashed up to it. Hana pushed all her weight against the glass, but it didn't give. Apparently this mirror wasn't going to let her through from this side.
Hana folded her arms sulkily. She turned to see the rest of the room. There wasn't much else. There was a small closet by the couch, with a few dresses that managed to be both uncomfortable-looking and incredibly simple at the same time. There were also two pairs of flat shoes and…Lord in heaven, there was a corset.
She checked the drawer of the vanity and found only a brush, comb, hand mirror, and some generic makeup.
She sighed. Hana looked at the digital watch on her wrist. It was nearly six…a.m. She must have fainted pretty early last night. And Erik had carried her to her room.
Hana gasped. Erik had carried her to her room! She had been in Erik's arms, and she'd missed it because she'd been unconscious! She slapped herself in the face. Couldn't she have pretended to faint, so she'd remember it?
Grumbling, she looked down at her clothes. Her jeans and T-shirt were rumpled and dirty, after having been dragged through the cellars and then slept in. She'd have to change.
She found her luggage next to the door…but her clothes weren't in it. All the food she'd brought, and her accessories were there, but the clothes had been removed.
"Am I supposed to wear the dresses?" she wondered aloud. Hana wasn't really in the mood to put on period clothes. It was too early for corsets. She was hungry.
She sat down at the vanity for some melted vanilla soup for breakfast. What did a girl have to do for a refrigerator?
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Erik awoke rather late that day. Normally, he rose at six or so to do some work on his music, or maybe just bother the managers a bit. But that day, he didn't wake until eight. He supposed it was the trip catching up to him. The phans had exhausted him. It felt good to get even a little sleep. After Hana had fainted, he'd taken her up to Christine's room (six floors above his house) and deposited her on the couch. He had then returned and crashed right away in his coffin.
Ah, his beloved coffin. He'd missed it so.
Although he was using a pillow now that he'd taken from Christine's room in the cellar. He was accustomed now to them.
He climbed out of the coffin and stretched, still in the clothes he'd worn last night. He scowled at the wrinkled red shirt and jeans. He quickly stripped them off, replacing them with a fresh tuxedo from his closet. He washed his face for the sake of waking himself up – not like anyone would see it – and put on a shiny pair of shoes, an ironed cape, and his fedora. He caught his imposing reflection in the lid of his coffin.
The Phantom of the Opera was back.
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After an hour of ice cream soup and another hour of playing around in the dressing room – which she could find no key for and was therefore locked in – Hana was very bored. She couldn't get out by the mirror or the door, and so she was forced to wait until someone came for her.
Which they eventually would. Right?
Hana jumped to her feet with the intention of screaming for help.
But the book said that Christine's dressing room was far removed from the others. And who was at the Opera at eight a.m.? No one, according to Mama Valerius in the book.
And screaming was bad for her voice anyway.
There came a knock at the door.
"Finally!" Hana cried, and she threw herself at the door. "Let me out!"
There came a fumbling and scratching noise. The lock turned, and the door swung open to reveal a very shocked Hilary.
"Thank God!" gasped Hana, falling against her fellow phan. Hilary pushed her up and placed the bronze key in her hand.
"Okay…" murmured Hilary, more than a little confused. "Um…you have a rehearsal in a few minutes onstage."
"What?" wondered Hana.
"You're going to be a chorus girl, right? Well, rehearsal is in ten minutes. You have to hurry and get dressed." She looked her up and down. "And you have to wear the stuff in the closet."
Hana turned to stare at the dresses. "Why?"
"Aislin says so." Hilary walked into the room and shut the door.
"NO!" Hana threw it open. "I've been in here for two hours, and I think I'm scarred for life. I don't ever want to close that thing again."
"But you have to change!"
"Don't care. I'll do it with the door open." Hilary shrugged and helped her into the corset ("OW! How did women manage with these things! Don't singers have to breathe?") and a pink dress.
"M. Lefevre will give you details on the show, and um…" She scratched her head. "That's all I know. Go, hurry." She pushed Hana, and followed her down the hall to the auditorium.
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For lack of anything better to do, Erik decided to head on down to the stage to see what was going on. He wouldn't alert Hana to his presence just yet – might as well see how things would go for her without him. He smirked a little. This could be very entertaining.
He suddenly remembered that he had said he was going to give lessons to this girl. His shoulders sagged. That could cause some problems. Was he supposed to go to her room…or take her down to the cellars? Aislin had said she wasn't allowed in the music room – thank heaven.
What the heck was he going to teach her? Opera? Maybe she was pretty good, but she was no opera singer.
Erik was so lost in his thoughts that he arrived at the auditorium before he was aware of where his feet were carrying him. Narrowly avoiding walking into the great front doors, he slipped around, up a small staircase, and into Box Five. No one would be able to see him up here unless he decided to show himself. If the Phantom of the Opera did not want to be seen, then he was invisible. Erik took a seat in the shadowed corner of the box to observe the rehearsal.
Hana stood at the back of a small crowd performers onstage, being instructed by M. Lefevre.
Some changes had occurred at the Opera since the end of the story. As Christine had left with Raoul, she no longer worked at the Opera. Thus leaving Carlotta to sing leads whether the managers wanted her to or not. Which they did. Tasteless tone-deaf idiots. Erik had been desperately but secretly listening to every chorus girl individually, looking for one with at least a smidgeon of talent, to push into the diva's place. Not that the Angel of Music was looking for another client – he just wanted someone else – anyone else – to sing…instead of Carlotta.
The leading tenor was Carolus Fonta. Thank the Lord that Piangi was gone. Fonta was at least tolerable. And he wasn't overweight – that at least weighed in his favor, no pun intended. (A/N: Carolus Fonta being Piangi's replacement is my happy medium between book and musical canon. Piangi's dead anyway.)
Meg still danced with the other ballet rats, and Mme. Giry still taught them. That was something that didn't look like it was ever going to change.
"And so our upcoming opera will be Cinderella. Mademoiselle Hana will be our leading lady, due to…certain requests made by a devoted patron." Hana knew it was Aislin. She scowled. So did Carlotta. "La Carlotta will be one stepsister, and Madame Isabelle will be the other." He pointed out another singer, who had joined the Opera not too long ago. A voice like a washboard, Erik thought in his box. "Monsieur Fonta shall be the prince."
Hana half listened as Lefevre assigned the roles of the Tutor – this opera's equivalent of the fairy godmother, the stepfather – no mother in this one, and the others. There was a chorus of men that sang in some scenes, and they received their roles as well. The other members of the cast were to stay for rehearsal. "Mademoiselle Hana," said Lefevre. "You have a previous appointment."
"I do?" she said.
"A private lesson. You may go."
Hana realized what this meant, and ran out of the auditorium.
Erik realized as well. He was supposed to give her a lesson! He dashed out of the box and down to the entrance hall where she was waiting.
Hana dashed up to him. "Hi Erik! Are we going to your place?"
Erik was about to refuse. Then he realized there was no way to play music in Hana's room, and he had no violin with him. Caught between the hammer and the anvil. "Yes," he sighed.
Once more, he led Hana through the twisting labyrinth to his home in the cellars. He retrieved his violin from the music room – where Hana was not allowed to go, you recall – and played a simple note.
"I know you can sing Broadway, but let's get a feel for your operatic voice. You're lucky – the role of Cinderella is somewhere between alto one and soprano two, so you shouldn't have any deathly high notes to hold out. And the whole thing is in English. I think this show was chosen especially for you." Erik played an arpeggio, and Hana began to sing.
Erik stopped her after two notes.
"You think you'll be able to be heard with air flow like that? Breathe deeper, fill all of your lungs, and don't let half of your air out on the first note. Remember, there's no microphone." Hana started again. Erik stopped again.
"You're not paying attention to the breath." He angrily stood behind her, placing her hands on her lower abdomen. Hana blushed.
"Take a breath, and push here to help the force of the air." Hana did so. She felt a considerable difference. "Again." She repeated the exercise several more times.
"Now let's try the vocalization again."
Again, she hadn't sung three notes when Erik stopped her.
"Watch your vowel formation. The 'ah' sound is farther back in the throat. You don't want to block the passage of the sound. Sing 'ah ee eh oh oo' for me." She did so. "Your 'eh' sound is too nasal. You want to keep the sound in the throat, not the nose. Try another arpeggio now."
Hana sighed. This was going to be a long day.
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I took the vocal exercises from my own vocal lesson. And my school once hosted a professional performance of this version of Cinderella – everything about it is true. Oh, and has anyone else noticed that the website now allows fics in Punjabi? Just thought it was interesting. Hope you enjoyed this nice long chappie. Review!
