The performance had been a great success. The singing was spectacular, the dancing was flawless, and every thing went perfect. After the performance Meg and the other ballerinas went to straight to there dressing room to change for tonight's gala, but that wasn't the case for Little Meg Giry. She would be going to the roof at midnight to meet her Angel of Music. As the girls chatted about who was the handsomest patron at the opera house, Madame Giry slipped in.
"Meg where is Christine? All the patrons would like to meet her," Madame Giry asked her daughter.
"I don't know, Mama. I haven't seen her since the curtains closed," Meg said innocently.
"Well go find her for me and hurry." Her mother barked. Meg sighed and ran out the door to go look for everyone's precious Christine. Meg, knowing Christine better than anyone else, went straight to the opera's little chapel, where Christine always lit a candle for her father. Meg sang very softly:
Christine, Christine
Angel of Music:
Christine
Meg smiled at the thought that the Angel of Music was near by. Meg stopped at the threshold of the chapel to find Christine praying. Meg sang in the sweetest voice she could sound:
Where in the world have you been hiding?
Really you were perfect
I only wished I knew your secret
Who is your great tutor?
Christine began to retell the story of how her father promised her to send her the Angel of Music. When her father had died and Christine had moved into Opera Populaire, Christine began to hear voices. Meg had never believed Christine until today, but still Meg was suspicious of this strange angel even if he had comfort her.
"Christine do you believe, do you believe that the spirit of your father's is coaching you?"
"Who else Meg, who?" Christine asked in a whisper. Christine began to sing about how she always dreamed of the Angel of Music appearing. Meg needed to hurry and get Christine back down to her dressing room; otherwise she would have to deal with her mother. Meg began to sing:
Christine, you must have been dreaming, stories like this can't come true
Christine, you're talking in riddles, and it's not like you!
Meg began to pull Christine out of the chapel trying to hurry her along. Christine sang boldly:
Angel
of Music!
Guide and guardian!
Grant to me your glory!
Meg
question this Angel of Music. Was he really an angel or only a man
who was as lonely as Meg?
Meg (to herself):
Who
is this angel? This...
Both:
Angel
of Music!
Hide no longer!
Secret and strange angel
CHRISTINE:
He's with me, even now...
Meg looked down at Christine's hands to see that they were shaking. Meg took hold of them, they felt like ice.
Meg:
Your
hands are cold...
CHRISTINE:
All around me...
Meg took hold of Christine's chin to see her face sickly pale. She looked like a ghost; Meg was worried about her friend.
Meg:
Your
face, Christine, its white...
CHRISTINE
It
frightens me...
Meg had never thought that this Angel of Music that Christine had always spoken fondly of could frighten her. She had to reassure her everything would be ok.
Meg:
Don't
be frightened...
Meg walked Christine back to her dressing room where Madame Giry quickly snatched her wrist and pulled her into the dressing room. Meg sighed heavily her mother would never go crazy over like she did with Christine. Meg lumbered back to her room. A few people had complimented her on her performance which Meg said thanks to. Some of the ballerinas asked her if she would like to go celebrate with them, but she declined. It wasn't that Meg couldn't make friends for she could easily, but all she really wanted was her mother's notice. Meg laid in her bed for what seemed hours, remembering the happy times that she had spent with her mother. Before Christine came to Opera Populaire, before her father had died. Meg's father had told her to always be strong, to take care of her mother and to never abandon and always listen to what her mother told her to do. Meg had done all that he had asked her to do. Even during these hard years of even getting praised from her mother. Meg looked at the clock. It was almost 10, still no sign of Christine.
Being a good friend that Meg was, Meg went looking for Christine. She went straight to the chapel thinking that maybe Christine had sneaked away after she had finished meeting her fans. As Meg tip-toed to the chapel she stopped suddenly to find her mother praying. Knowing that Meg would get into trouble if her mother caught her Meg silently, but quickly sneaked away from the chapel. Meg decided to search Christine's dressing room. She walked towards the dressing room fearless of the darkness, not even caring if the Phantom of the Opera was close by. Meg had always felt guilty about telling horrible stories of the Opera Ghost, but it was the only way to fit in with the rest of the ballerinas and chorus girls. Meg knocked on the oak door. No answer. She tried the door knob, it was locked. Meg put her hands on her hips and started to tap her foot. Maybe Christine went out with the Vicomte De Chagny? Going with her instinct, Meg ran to her mother's bed room to get the spare key that Madame Giry had always kept for an unknown reason.
Meg peaked into her mother's bedroom to find her still out of bed. She quickly snatched the key and ran as fast as she could to the dressing room. Meg calmly opened the door. "Christine," she whispered. No answer. The moon was Meg's only light, but there also seemed to be another light coming from the mirror. Mirrors didn't produce light, Meg told herself. Meg walked carefully towards the mirror. The mirror seemed to be open. Meg hesitantly opened the mirror more so she could slip through. She gave one backward glance, before crossing over the threshold of light and darkness.
Meg began to walk down the dusky catacomb concentrating only on finding Christine. As she continued to walk in the labyrinth she felt something touching her feet. She gave a shriek. Rats! Meg hated them. She was about to continue on when she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She jumped and turned around to find her mother giving her an angry look. Madame Giry grabbed her hand and led her back to the ballet dormitories. "Meg how many times must I tell you to stay in your room at night? It isn't safe, what if the opera ghost comes and gets you?"
"Mama I am not scared of the Opera Ghost. I was only looking for Christine she hadn't returned and I was worried," Meg whined.
"I don't ever want you to leave your bedroom after 10:00 is that understood," Madame Giry firmly.
"Yes, Mama," Meg sighed.
Once they reached the ballet dormitories, they heard Joseph Buquet telling a story about the Opera Ghost. Meg rolled her eyes and sat down next a girl named, Lisa, not even listening to this drunken bastard's tale:
Like
yellow parchment is his skin,
a great black hole serves as the
nose that never grew,
you must be always on your guard,
or he
will catch you with his magical lasso!
Meg watched as Joseph pulled out a lasso and wrapped it around a ballet tart, named, Roberta.
Roberta:
Oh
my...
Buquet:
Gnahh!
Meg
watched as her mother walked over furiously to Roberta and Joseph and
threw off the rope. She sang very coldly:
Those
who speak of what they know,
Find too late that prudent silence
is wise,
Joseph Buquet hold your tongue!
Madame
Giry slapped Joseph Buquet hard on the face. Then she took the rope
and tied it around his neck:
Keep
your hand at the level of your eyes!
She chokes him.
"I do not want to find you ever in the girl's rooms ever again. And if you do you will pay the price terribly. As for you girls if I find out that any of you let him in you will have to deal with me." She said coldly. Once the girls were sound asleep and she knew her mother must be in bed Meg sneaked out of bed. She grabbed her cloak and looked at the clock to see it was five minutes to midnight. She quickly climbed up the stairs to the roof thinking of what she had seen behind the mirror. Who created this passageway? She wondered. Who created this mirror?
Meg opened the door and slipped outside. The cold air made her shiver. If only she had someone to hold her in their arms she thought. She looked across the roof to find someone just standing there with their back facing her. Was it the Phantom of the Opera, she asked herself? She walked towards the figure without a second thought, she decided. If this was the infamous Phantom of the Opera then she would face him without any fear. But as she came closer she could make out a slender body with long, curly, hair.
"Christine," Meg whispered. Christine slowly turned around. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face pale, she looked like a ghost.
"Meg I…" Christine fainted right before Meg's eyes. Meg quickly tried to help her up, but Meg was too small to carry her. Meg ran as fast as she could to her mother, not caring if her mother would yell out her later.
