Chapter I:
Mary POV:
Mary gazed up at the theater looming above her. So this is the great Paris Opera. She thought, mildly intimidated. Taking small shaky steps, she slowly advanced upon the opera house.
The first side door she could locate was the door from the stables. As she stepped under the spread, she heard, for the first time on this long journey, something vaguely familiar. 'Clink, clink, clink' Knitting needles clinking together. "Hello?" Mary called, "Hello?" "Boss! I was not slacking, no never! A boy leapt up, throwing something (yeah, I know you can guess what it is) over his shoulder.
Upon seeing Mary, he strained himself up, "Oh... ello. I thought you were somebody else." "I guessed that much." Mary said, raising here eyebrows. "Why are you here?" the boy asked. "I'm the new stage hand." Mary admitted. "Oh! Alright," the boy walked to the door and opened, Mary followed, "follow the left corridor. When you see the door marked 'Ballet Corps', knock and ask for Jammas."
Mary thanked the boy and continued through the doorway. When she reached the door marked 'Ballet Corps' she knocked as the boy had instructed. Inside, she heard giggles, screams and the thuds of pillows being thrown at one another. She also heard one voice above the others shouting: "Don't touch the evil pillows! Christine, there's someone at the door!... Open it!" "Fine, fine! No need to shout."
The door opened. A thin, pale girl about the age of seventeen poked her head around the door. Several other curious faces peered past her. "Can I help you monsieur?" She said, almost laughing. Mary was just about to object to being called 'monsieur' but quickly remembered she was disguised as a boy. "Ummmm... I'm looking for Jammas." Mary said. "I'm right here! What about me?" At first, Mary did not know where the voice was coming from. Then she noticed an either undersized or very young girl standing directly in front of Christine. She was wearing a high collared black coat with tails and silver buttons going all the way up. "Well I'm new here you see and the stable boy told me to ask for you."
At this, Jammas snorted. "Oh...fine. Christine! Check my schedule... do I have time?" Christine whipped out a handbook at the command, flipped through and gave a sign of relief: "You do." "Very well." Jammas sighed, stepping out and grabbing Mary roughly by the elbow, dragging her down another corridor at a ridiculous pace. "Take it all in now so I don't have to come find you later." Jammas muttered in a monotone. "I can't at this speed!" Mary snarled. Jammas turned and glared, "You must just be slow then." and cackled maniacally. Seeing the conversation was going nowhere, Mary began to take in her surroundings as well as she could at the ridiculous speed. Down the torch lit halls, people constantly scurried, caring masks and other props as well as exotic fabrics and costumes.
Mary tried to count the turns; two rights, one left, another right but she soon lost track. After about four or five more rights and ten more lefts, Jammas stopped. They had reached a dead end. Mary gazed around for the next passageway but could find none. Mary turned to ask Jammas where they where only to find nobody beside her. Puzzled, Mary called for her but there was no answer. In a slight panic, Mary stumbled back don the corridor until she knocked into a short plump woman who scolded her, telling her to use her eyes instead of her 'thick head'. Mary soon realized that the woman was part of the entourage of a tall slender woman, dressed in all red and who spoke with a Spanish accent.
Deciding to follow the entourage, Mary tried to make since of the past events. First of all, there was that whacked stable hand who, as far as Mary could tell, was a... dramatic pause... a KNITTER! Second, there was that ballet girl Jammas. She was obviously the person in charge around here. When she passed in the corridors, everybody seemed to step aside and nod to her respectfully. Third, there was that other ballet girl Christine. She was letting Jammas boss her around when Christine was obviously somewhere around ten years older.
Immersed in thought, Mary had not grasped where she was going. Suddenly, she found herself standing on centre stage of a massive theater. Her breath was taken away. (Enter description here) Mary ducked. A bucket attached to a rope, filled with red paint narrowly missed her head. "DRAT!" a voice boomed across the theater, "No wait... Score!" Mary turned to see Christine covered in red paint, blinking like an owl.
An old lady in an elaborate black dress, pushed pass Christine (taking great care not to get red paint on herself) and held out a hand to Mary, "Are you alright?" Mary nodded, rather dumbfounded by the voice. "Glad to hear it," the lady said, "that was the Phantom wannabe, it has some... issues, particularly with newcomers." "Phantom... wannabe?" Mary croaked, still dazed. "PHANTOM'S ACCOMPLICE!... wait... what do you mean by 'it'?" the voice boomed through the theater again. Mary twitched. "Believe me," the old lady said knowingly, "that one is not the one to be afraid of."
"Let me introduce myself, Madam Giry, Ballet Director." Mary smiled. Finally, somebody was being nice. "I am to become a stage hand. Who do I need to see?" Mary asked, completely trusting of this woman. "Joseph Bouquet," Madam Giry stated, "I'll have Jammas... wait... where is Jammas?" "I'm right here!" Jammas sounded stepping out from behind a curtain. She was pulling off here black coat and tossing aside a black hat. "What's with the cape?" one of the ballet girls asked. "What cape?" Jammas' voice cracked slightly as she tossed aside a stupendous cloak. "Wow..." Mary barely heard a new voice echoed throughout the theater.