There's also a Clerks reference. If anyone can find it, then maybe it will make me happy enough to get my lazy hads to type faster. I can't guarantee it, but it will make me happy if someone can find it.
Disclaimer-My name is not Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Bonnie Turner, Terry Turner, or Mark Brazil, so I have no chances of owning the things they've made.
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The guys are hanging out backstage at the opera house.They have hit a patch of silence in their conversation when Andre suddenly asks them something.
"Would your view of me lower if I worked in the scrap metal business?"
Firmin stares at him for awhile before responding. "The junk business? Yes, my view of you would somewhat lower. But if it was the rubbish business then maybe you might be seen higher in my eyes." The last phrase was said with much sarcasm.
Philippe chuckles at Firmin's response before asking, "Why are inquiring about work? Are you having a financial problem."
"Yes," interrupts Firmin. "Why do you need to work? Especially when we have Philippe here to help us along."
The viscount glares at his friend. "Maybe he would like to learn financial independence instead of leeching off of his friends."
Firmin simply shrugs at this obvious hint. "Good for him then. Leaves more for me." He then smiles absently into space thinking about the extra money possibly coming his way.
"It is just that," begins Andre, "I need something more to occupy myself with! I cannot spend all day in my room, and as great as it is to just do nothing with you guys, it can be a little boring."
"You just do not want to be the dummy in our little experiments," replies Erik. "Face it. Whenever we have some crazy scheme, you always seem to be the only one that gets harmed."
Andre nods at this statement. "That too. And I guess I do need some more money to come my way faster." He sighs. "Everything just costs money nowadays. "Transportation, activities...enjoying yourself."
"Do not forget women," reminds Philippe. "They can cost quite a handful."
Erik gives a bit of a puzzled look at this. "I thought that only ladies of the night cost money?"
The Persian shakes his head at Erik's question. "No, Erik. That is only prostitution."
Firmin smirks at this correction. "It does not matter if it is a lady of the morning, noon, evening, or night. You still have to spend your money on the lady ,and in most cases you do not get what you pay for." He raises his eyebrows suggestively.
Philippe gives him a strange look. "This coming from the man who somehow gets with women, despite having any money of his own."
"It is advice for all of you, excluding me." The teenager smiles at his fellow companions.
Andre shakes his head in frustration. "How am I supposed to obtain these ladies if I have no money?" asks the youth sadly.
"Is that not why you were searching for a job?" asks Erik with confusion apparent on his face.
Andre's expression brightens up at this question. "Oh yes! Thanks Erik."
All of his friends just roll their eyes at him. "So where do you plan on finding employment?" inquires the Persian.
"I am not too sure. Maybe at a chocolate factory! Then I could have all the chocolate that I desire." Andre gets a far off look in his eyes and drool comes out of one side of his mouth.
"If you react like that when you apply, you will never get the job," points out Philippe. "Why do you not just try to get a job around here? I mean you hang around here everyday, and I am sure that you could increase your chances of peeping on those ballerinas."
He shakes his head dismissively. "No. If you work at places that you frequent for fun than they will no longer be fun! Unless your like Erik, who likes to work where he lives and hangs out with friends.And who also seems to thoroughly enjoy it." He brings a hand up to his chin and strokes it thoughtfully. "How much do you get paid, Erik?"
Erik throws dirty looks at him while he speaks and when asked, mumbles something that closely resembles 'none of your business'.
Philippe places a hand on Andre's shoulder and looks at him reassuringly. "Just get a job here."
The Persian nods in agreement. "Yes, we will all even apply with you," offers the dark skinned teenager.
Andre smiles at this nice gesture. "Tha-"
"Why do bwe/b have to go?" asks Philippe suddenly in a whiny tone. "My family supports this opera house. I do not need to get support from it."
The Persian sighs in agitation. "Fine do not come with us." He turns his head away from the viscount. "I doubt that you could obtain the job even if you truly wanted it."
On hearing this, the Vicomte becomes livid and comes closer to the Persian. "Excuse me! I could get that job if I so desired to. So I will go tomorrow and get it!" He waves at the other boys. "See you tomorrow gentlemen," says Philippe before storming out of the opera house.
The Persian smiles upon his departure. "He is too easy," comments the boy.
Erik laughs in agreement. When he is done, he looks at the his persian friend offhandedly. "At least I already have a job that I thoroughly enjoy, so there is no need for me to accompany you to your interviews."
"Yes, you still do," counters the Persian.
The masked boy immediately gets angry at this. "Why?"
The Persian continues to look at Erik with complete calmness and answers in a cool tone, "Your job consists of frightening these people out of their wits and threatening those who do not do things your way."
"Look at this way," begins Erik, "I just give out constructive criticism and persuasion of a darker kind."
The Persian keeps his unconvinced gaze on Erik. "Even if that is the case, it is not an official job."
Erik responds to this comment by folding his arms stubbornly and holding his head up high. "You cannot force me to go."
His friend rolls his eyes before saying sternly, "Erik, you are going, and that is that."
The younger masked boy gets angry at this command but is at a loss for words. He finally puts both of his arms firmly at his sides and glares at his darker friend. "Fine! I will make my appearances with you, but I will inform you now that I shall loathe every second of it." He then turns on his heel and disappears into some dark unforeseen corner like always.
The Persian stares into the corner that Erik had just vanished into. "As if I actually expected him to enjoy it," murmurs the boy to himself. After he has stared into the corner for a good while, he turns back to Firmin and Andre.
Firmin cocks his head in the direction of where the other two boys had gone. He smiles smugly at the Persian and says, "You may know how to push Philippe's buttons, and have Erik under your thumb for the moment, but I am a completely different case. I have no pride when it comes to working ,and I owe you nothing that you can hang over my head."
The Persian raises an eyebrow at him. "That may be so but consider this..." His confident countenance is soon broken as he realizes something. "You are right." He gives a sad shrug and tries to give him a commanding look. "I guess we can only rely on your loyalty towards your friends can persuade you."
Firmin rolls his eyes at this last attempt. "Nice try ,but you have witnessed many times how I treat them. Isn't that right Andre?" He turns to look at his other friend and is about to say more when he is taken back by what he sees.
There is now an extremely distressed look upon Andre's face. He his head is bowed, and his body is shaking as he tries to suppress his sobs.
Firmin places his hand on Andre's shoulder and tries to look him in the eyes, but Andre's jerks away. "Do not give me that, Gilles Andre!" says the former boy sternly. It is to no avail ,though, as Andre's body still shakes from the sobbing. Firmin looks at him pitifully before saying, "I..I..I did not really mean those things. You didn't really believe me? I will be there like Erik's mask is on his face."
"Do you truly mean that?" asks the sad teen with his head still bowed.
Firmin breathes in harshly and hesitates before answering. "Yes, I truly mean it."
"Merci, Firmin."
"Do not mention it ,Andre." There is an awkward pause that follows. "I think that I shall head home now." The youth then takes his leave.
After he has left Andre lifts his head to reveal a wide grin. He turns to the Persian and says, "That always works."
The Persian chuckles in amusement. "I am just glad to see that you were able to convince him to come."
Andre nods in approval. "I should be thanking you for getting the other two to come along as well."
"It was my pleasure." Nadir then becomes more serious. "Now I think that it is time that you should go and prepare for tomorrow."
"Why?"
"You may want to polish up your speaking skills," suggests the Persian in a friendly manner.
Andre gets offended by his suggestion. "I shall have you know that I am a master of emancipation!" He shakes his head at his mistake. "I mean enunification!" He shakes his head once more at his silly error. "I meant electrocution!"
"Elocution or enunciation?" offers Nadir.
Andre points at him excitedly. "Oui! I am very well when it comes to words." He slumps down in defeat. "Fine. You have won once more. I will go home and brush up on my friction." The teen rolls his eyes in irritation.
The Persian stares at him in confusion. "I think you mean diction."
"That too," replies Andre. He then walks off with what little dignity he thinks he has left.
As the Persian watches him walk off, he rolls his eyes and throws his hands up to the air. "Why do I associate with these people?"
The next day all five of the boys are at the opera house and are seated in a waiting room. Soon a short, stocky, balding man comes to greet them.
The irritated looking man gives them brief glances. He feels skeptical about the over eager Andre, wary about the masked moody Erik , suspicious of the bored Firmin, suprised at Philippe's presence, and sighs at the sight of the Persian. "So you young lads want to be stagehands, eh?" asks the bald adult in a superior voice. "Well you shall have to go through me, Monsieur George Renault, if you want to secure a position in this wonderful atmosphere." He begins to pace in front of the boys. "You must be hardworking, reliable, punctual, strong," (He glances doubtfully at Erik at this word) "take orders well, and be willing to stay as long as neccessary."
Andre looks over at Erik. "That should not be too hard for you since you do live here."
Erik gives him a silencing look that clearly says, "Shut up if you know what is best for you."
Andre gulps nervously and looks down as Monsieur Renault eyes the masked boy with an unamused expression. "I will also not tolerate any tomfoolery," warns their possible future supervisor. He then resumes his superior air and continues to pace. "I shall be interviewing each of you to get a grasp of what you might be like on the job. So will..." Monsieur Renault pauses as he once more looks the five teens over before pointing at the Persian "you come with me first."
The Persian gets up from his seat and dutifully follows the shorter man, who shows him into a plain looking office. He sits down in a chair that has already been placed in front of a normal sized desk.
Monsieur Renault sits behind his desk and finally takes a long look at the youth before him. "So Monsieur.." He starts to move his hands in a circular motion.
"Khan. Nadir Khan," provides the dark skinned teenager.
"Monsieur Khan," continues the stocky man "what has motivated you to becoming a stagehand?"
"Well, I think it would be fortunate of you to have me among one of your various employees because I could help reduce the accident status here. I also would like to know the insi-"
"Accident status?" interrupts Monsieur Renault in amazement. "What makes you think that this opera house is accident prone?" asks the adult nervously.
The Persian stares at him blankly for awhile before responding. "There are reports every now and than in the newspaper. It is a bit too frequent to be considered 'normal' though."
Monsieur Renault nervously waves a hand dismissively at that. "Every place gets bad publicity now and again."
The Persian raises his eyebrows questioningly ,but the stocky man urges him to go on with what he was saying before interrupted. "I was saying that I would also like to know the inside of this opera house in more detail, so that I can keep a closer eye on certain suspicious persons."
"Alright," says the man slowly. "Umm what do you consider is something bad about yourself?"
The Persain thought over this question for awhile before answering. "Some would say that I am too overcautious. Of course I do not count this to be something negative, for it is always a good thing to have your wits about you."
The employer just gives him a strange look and nods slowly. "Alright. So you are someone who is aware of the things around you. That is a very good characteristic. Things like that can help to reduce our accident quota."
"I thought you just denied there being a tendency for accidents to happen here more frequently than other places?" asks the Persian with a bemused expression on his face.
Monsieur Renault stutters at this fact. "Well..well..well that is besides the point! Do you always need to bring out the depressing facts? Could you please tell me something good?"
"I could always tell you what I regard as my best quality," suggests the Persian.
The older man nods eagerly, "Yes, that would be quite nice."
"I think of myself as a voice of reason. One of those people who can keep a nice head in dire situations. The only sad side is that most people tend to ignore me," finished the dark skinned youth in a somber tone.
The stocky man just stares at him with a sad look in his eyes. "That was enlightening," mutters the employer. He shakes off his stare and tries to pull a reluctant smile. "So can you imagine where you will be in the future?"
The Persian thinks over this question longer then when he had thought over his worst quality. "I picture myself still watching over my friend. I mean, I may say that I have given up on him,but I will always still hold what is best for him first. Though because of his mental state I may have to put my life on the line to plead to his saner side." He sighs at this statement. "I basically imagine myself pleading for him not to attempt some murderous or suicidal attempt on a catastrophic level."
Mister Renault just listens to this prediction with widened eyes and a gaping mouth. After a few seconds of silence ,and a struggle to compose himself, he finally spoke. "Your loyalty to your friends ,even if they be a bit on the awkward and dramatic side, is...awe-inspiring. It shows good teamwork." He folded his hands together and straightened his posture. "I shall contemplate our little discussion here ,but meanwhile could you send in the next applicant?" As the Persian rose from his chair and moved to the door, he called out to him with another request. "Ask that anxious looking individual with the strange hair to come next." The foriegner nodds and makes his way out.
Soon a jumpy Andre entered the room and nervously made his way into the chair before the desk. He tried to compose his twitching before bowing his head and introducing himself. "Bonjour Monsieur Renault. I am Gilles Andre, and I would desire a job as a stage hand here."
Monsieur Renault nods and smiles in an attempt to calm the nervous teenager down.
It fails ,and Andre just gets worse. He now picks up the shaking again which makes his chair tremble.
The employer does not try another attempt at calming him down and asks his first question. "What allured you to work here Gilles?"
Andre takes a big gulp of air before answering. "Truth be told, I-I just needed something more to occupy myself with. I am also in serious need of the income." He hiccups after this confession.
The balding man bows his head and gives the teenager a blank stare. "So you are in search for financial backing in your everday life?"
Andre nods excitedly in response to this question. "Oui! If you hire me, you may find that it is very easy to order me about. I seem to do about almost anything that people ask me to do. Some say that it would be a fault, but I do not frown at it." His words had been frequented by hiccups, which caused him to blush a deep shade of red.
"An almost blind willingness to take orders," comments the employer basically annoying the little hiccups. "It is good to find young men who take orders."
The teen smiles at this compliment ,but then frowns as something occurs to him. "But some say that I do not carry out the orders to the satisfaction of the one who issued them."
Monsieur Renault waves his hand dismissively at this honest statement. "I am sure we can overlook a bit of carelessness here and there."
"I do not think others would say it is 'a bit' of carelessness," muttered Andre.
"What was that?"
Andre is stricken pale by this question. "I just...well it is just that..." He sighs deeply before saying, "I am an absolute moron. Very clumsy that is. I cannot help myself!" He points at his eye. "If there is a sharp corner, my eye manages to get poked by it." He points at his feet. "If there is a lump in the carpet, my feet figure out a way to trip over it." He places his hands around his throat. "If there is a temperamental masked person around, my mouth knows just how to make me get choked within a centimeter of my life!" He breathes deeply in and out after this telling rant.
The employer just stared at him curiously after the 'temperamental masked person' remark but said nothing. After a few moments of silence that consisted of Andre attempting to calm himself, he finally spoke. "Do you think this clumsiness of yours may interfere with your future?"
Andre opens his mouth to answer ,but then a hiccup takes the place of the words he might have spoken. He clasps his hands over his mouth and just nods vigorously.
Monsieur Renault motions his hand in a circling motion. "You may elaborate if you wish to. Your little problem does not bother me. Just a case of the nerves, I understand completely."
The possible employee gulps nervously and than answers. "I fear that my buffoonery will cause me to be lean heavily on my friend. He is the only one that can calm me down, and I can only see myself working with him as he handles all the hard things, and I just become the face," he flourishes his hands before his face and gives a forced smile, "for the two of us." He sighs dejectedly and stares fixedly at the floor.
Mister Renault gets up from his chair and pats Andre on the back jerkily. "Dependency on fellow companions is nothing to be ashamed of ,and it is not permanent. You never know what awaits you. You may one day become very independent and laugh at the days where you once believed that you had to rely on others." He gestures to the heavens with a cheerful smile gracing his features.
"Fat chance from a fat man," mutters Andre darkly.
"What was that!" questions the stocky man with an angry little gleam in his eyes.
Andre stares at him horrorstruck. "Um nothing, Sir!" He jumps out of his seat and moves towards the door.
"You had better leave!" threatens the short man. "Send in the next applicant while you are at it!" He shakes his head angrily and puts it in his hand. "Fat! The nerve of that little urchin. I shall have him know that I have a powerful build." He is interrupted in his mutterings by a polite cough from the door. He looks up irritably and is about to say something rude until he sees who is at the door. "Vicomte! Why I did not know that you would be stopping by here today."
"I surely thought that you had seen me and even acknowledged my presence just a few minutes ago," replied the young aristocrat in a light tone.
The employee of the opera house continues to look stunned as he realized what Philippe was referring to. He pointed at the door. "You mean that you have also come here seeking employment?" His face held nothing but astonishment at the mere thought of a patron ,much less a French noble, would be working beneath him.
Philippe releases a small chuckle and shakes his head.
"Than what brings you hear monsieur?"
"As you are well aware of, my family helps to support the arts. Of course I wanted a more in depth look to where our funds were going. So what better way of seeing that than working here for awhile," revealed the viscount.
The short man is even more flustered by this revelation. "Amazing," murmurs the stocky male. He shakes his head a little and gestures toward the chair. "Will you have a seat Monsieur le Vicomte, and then we can begin the interviewing process." He moves back to the chair behind his desk as Philippe seats himself in the chair. "I must comment on how suprised I am that you are here," says Monsieur Renault.
The viscount just gives a small smile. "My parents would be suprised as well if they found out, but I think they will be satisfied when they learn how much this will help our already honourable name."
"That is quite an admirable goal. The honor you hold for your family name is quite inspiring," commented Mister Renault with a wide smile on his face. "Is there anything negative about you, Monsieur?" asked the employer jokingly.
Philippe responded to this question very seriously. "My companions say that I tend to make derogative comments and act condescendingly towards those that have a lower station in life then I do." The young viscount let loose a spirited laugh. "I do not know what they mean though since that would mean that I am just plain rude to everyone! You see, most of the people that I associate myself with are on the same level as me except for my closest friends ,who were unfortunately born in middle or lower classes."
Monsieur Renault's smile was soon replaced with a slight frown. "I see," he muttered to himself. "Well I am sure that if you are hired then the other stagehands will not mind whatsoever working along with someone of your...background."
Philippe nodded happily. "I expect that they will take my orders with much joy."
"Monsieur le Vicomte," started the employer nervously, "I am afraid that there are no management positions open."
The young aristocrat's face momentarily gave way to annoyance but was quickly composed to a more uplifting expression. "Oh well that is perfectly fine," replied the young man in a fake cheery tone.
The short man gulped nervously before asking his next question. "I know that you could not possibly want to do this job forever, so what shall you do in the future?"
This question caused Philippe to suddenly sit up straighter and put on a dignified air. "My father has been training me to be the next Comte de Chagny since I was seven. I plan on living up to that name and taking all the responsibilities that come with it including being the head of my household. I will uphold the sacred duties that come along with it including the prevention of any besmirching, slandering, or scandal that try to tarnish our family name..." He went on with vigorous pride into the description of the duties of being a Comte.
Throughout this dignified explanation Monsieur Renault could feel the color slightly drain from his face. "He is much too good for this position. He seems too serious for it as well. The others will not take too kindly if they have to work side by side an aristocrat." He grimaced slightly at this thought.
Fortunately, the viscount was too absorbed in his speech to notice the employer's facial expression. "...And that is what I will be doing as the future Comte de Chagny," finished Philippe with a little nod of his head.
Monsieur Renault hurriedly stood up and starts to applaud. "Bravo ,Vicomte! Bravo!" He hurried toward the young man's side and ushered him towards the door. "That was a most excellent speech. Now excuse me ,but we must be getting on with the other interviewees." He opened the door and waved him out with a plastered on grin. "It was a pleasure as always to see you." The older man then looked towards the group of teenage boys to see who was left. An alarm went off in his head telling him not to pick the masked boy right now. He pointed a finger at the bored looking youth sitting next to Andre and said, "You may come in now."
The bored looking teenager just cocks his head in another direction. "Must I be next? What about Erik here?" He gestures a hand toward Erik who has choosen to put on a most wicked grin.
Mister Renault gulps nervously. "Young man, I have choosen you and would like it if you woul follow me in right now!" The short man shakes his head in disapproval. "If this is your response to authority, then I must comment that your chances for receiving this job are slim. This is what is wrong with your generati-"
Before he could say anything else, Firmin shoots up and drags his feet into the office. "Fine! I shall come along as you request." He keeps moving towards the door ,and his friends hear him mutter one last thing before the door closes. "I am not even supposed to be here today."
The employer eyes Firmin as the youth slumps into the chair , leans back against it, and looks up at the ceiling. Monsieur Renault goes behind his desk and clears his throat audibly in an attempt to get Firmin to pay attention ,but it is no use as he continues on with staring at the ceiling. "Young man?" asks the older gentleman. There is still no sign of interest in Firmin's body. "Young man!" repeats Monsieur Renault with the same results. "YOUNG MAN!"
There is a slight shifting in Firmin's body as he adjusts his head so that he can look at the employer's face. There is a very cool look in his eyes despite him being yelled at. "My name is Firmin."
"Excuse me?"
"Firmin. My name is Richard Firmin. Not 'young man'. It would make me happy if you get that right." He then goes back to staring at the ceiling.
The older man has now gotten red faced by this display of cheekiness. "Well I would appreciate it if you would actually care about being here today!"
Without facing the older man Firmin delivers his reply. "My dear maman taught me to never lie."
"What do you mean by that?" asks a flabbergasted employer.
"You just said that it would be much appreciated of me to act as if I actually care to be here. That would be a facade since I am in no way or form interested in being present here today."
This response strikes Monsieur Renault dumb for a few seconds. He then finds his tongue and speaks. "Then why in the world are you here today?"
Firmin moves his head so that the older man can see his cocked eyebrow and bemused grin. "Moral support."
The stocky man does not believe this answer. "Now come on! You can be honest with your answers."
The teenager gets out of his slumping position and leans forward with his arms held out. "But I am being honest! Some think that my tendency to being bluntly honest at times is a bad quality. " He then coughs at that instant ,but the cough sounds a lot like the word 'pudgy'.
This cough is heard by the employer who soons turn an even deeper shade of red. "Excuse moi young man! It would do well for you to remember that you should not insult authority figures ,especially when they are right in front of you!"
"So it is alright for me to insult my subordinates when their backs are turned?" questions Firmin. "Because I have heard some foul language pass those fat lips of yours concerning those that are beneath you in this opera house."
This comment causes Monsieur Renault to become white with rage. "That is neither here nor...You should not be list..How did you...We are not going to talk about my past actions right now," says the employer in a dismissive tone. "We are here to discuss you. Do you have any redeeming qualities?"
Firmin crosses his arms and leans back into the chair. "I do not respond to idiotic questions. I find them to be a waste of time."
This new display of cheek causes the stocky man to lean forward on his desk. "May I just say that your attitude will not lead you anywhere positive in the future. You must learn to reign in that tongue of yours!" He wags a finger at the youth. "It may make you end up in-"
"Prison?" finishes Firmin. He smiles as this word produces the effect of silence from the older man that he was hoping for. "To be honest that is the future I envision myself in. Because if I 'reign in my tongue' then I may actually get somewhere in life, but it will probably be a position of being in fear of those with worse tempers. That lifestyle will also entail some horrendous back-bending ,and an occupation of being surrounded by idiots." The teenager shrugs his shoulders in complacency. "After seeing you do it, I just want to avoid it completely."
Monsieur Renault just stares at him angrily. "Just get out and send in the last applicant," commands the older man through clenched teeth. He watches Firmin get up, stick his hands in his pockets, lean back in midair, and walk out of the office. He then slams his head against the desk repeatedly. "They just keep getting worse! First a pessimist, then a nervous wreck, then a pompous aristocrat, who was then followed by a cheeky urchin. Who is next? A crazed homicidal maniac!"
"I tend not to think of myself as 'crazed' or a 'maniac'," replies a silky voice.
The employer looks up to see where this wonderous voice came from. He jumps slightly as he sees the masked boy sitting in the chair set in front of his desk. He is sitting straight up and looks at him with a blank face.
"How did you get in here? When did you get in here?" questions the suddenly apprehensive employer.
"The door was unlocked. Also,according to the young man that just walked out, you very kindly requested for the next applicant." He flashes Monsieur Renault a smile that seems devoid of real cheeriness. "As for when I arrived, it was around the time that you began to bang your head against your own desk while listing off all of the people who have entered your office this day seeking a job." He folds his hands together and places them in his lap and then gives the employer a collected look. "Now may we start this interview so that I may resume my life?"
The employers nods his head shakily. "Certainly," replies the older man in an attempt to sound official. There was something about this boy's no nonsense attitude and cool demeanor that told Monsieur Renault that he should be taken seriously. "So what brings you here today, Monsieur.." He pauses as he realizes that he does not know Erik's last name. "What was your last name again, young man?"
"Erik," replies the masked youth.
The older man looks at him in puzzlement. "So your name is Erik Erik?" He chuckles at this example of alliteration. "It is not conventional ,but it is unique"
The boy seated in front of him is not amused by this mistake. "Non, monsieur. My name is simply Erik. Nothing more, nothing less . Erik prefers not to give out his last name."
Mister Renault seems confused by this third person talk. "Are you not Erik?"
The masked boy seems further irritated by this question. "Oui, I am. Did I not just make that clear a moment ago?"
The older man suddenly feels like he is treading on dangerous ground. "It is just that you threw me off by the way you used your name."
"Are you saying that I am unclear when I speak?" asks the teenager in a threateningly smooth voice with a hint of anger in his eyes.
The short little man gulps in nervousness. "Non, non, non! The misunderstanding was completely my fault! You were as clear as crystal." He then attempts to change the conversation by asking his first question. "Why have you come here today, Monsieur?"
Erik answers the question ,while still keeping the angry glint in his eyes, with another question. "Should not every king check up on his kingdom?"
This throws off the employer even more. "Excuse me? Did you just refer to this place as a kingdom?"
"Yes, and I as it's king." A sinister smile graces his face as he embellishes upon this. "A great ruler needs to lurk among his subjects unnoticed every once in awhile to see firsthand how they are doing." His voice suddenly lowers to a deadly whisper. "Then as he is undercover, he can find out who are his loyal subjects ,and who are the treacherous backstabbers who would dare overturn their leader." His voice now starts to elevate in volume. "Once he has unearthed these facts then he can retake his thrown and persecute those who would destroy him!" The room echoes with the boom of his voice. Erik then continues in a normal tone. "And that ,good sir, is why I have come here today."
Monsieur Renault listens to this speech with a bit of fear inside him. This boy was clearly delusional ,yet there was something about him that said his whole 'kingdom' analogy was perfectly normal and right. He decides to go along with Erik's explanation. "Do you consider yourself a good leader?"
"I give out my orders and expect for them to be carried out. It is on the individual's head if they cannot carry out a simple command from me." He breathes out a big sigh and continues in an airy voice. "People blame disaster on their rulers when it was really their own incompetence that caused their misfortune." He seems a bit angry at this thought but continues in his normal tone. "So to answer your question, I do think that I am an effective leader. It just depends on whether or not my subordinates choose to follow through on my orders."
This response just heightens the sense of fear growing within the short, stocky man. He takes his chances with his next question. "Do you think there are any flaws in your leadership?"
The question earns him a steely glare from Erik. "I assume that some would complain of the harsh rule that they are subjected to. But it certainly does not make me a tyrant. Just because I choose to rule with an iron fist and unmoveable will, it does not make me a horrible ruler."
The employer gulps nervously. He feels like he is now on thin ice yet still throws caution to the wind with his next question. "So you do not think that your harsh rule will ever cause you to find yourself in unfortunate circumstances? You believe that your firm hand will keep those so called backstabbers silent in fear of your wrath?" asks the man nervously. He flinches in uneasy anticipation steeling himself ready for an explosive response.
"Oui," answers Erik in a suprisingly calm voice. But this one word seems to radiate a power that shows why noone would dare to challenge the masked boy. He goes on, "I am destined to lead this opera house to glory ,and noone shall undermine my authority for noone shall ever realize that their king hides in the shadows, secretly governing them through disaster and celebration."
There is an awkward silence for a few moments before the employer clears his throat. "I think that we are now done with this lovely interview! You may go on your way, and I shall tell you and your companions who has obtained the position within twenty-four hours time." He forces a smile and watches wearily as Erik exits. As Erik is mostly out the door he mutters to himself, "At least there were no drunkards here today."
A voice in his ear declares, "Be careful what you say, Monsieur, for your woes may become reality." With that declaration added to the stress of the previous applicants the old employer faints in his chair.
The next day all of the boys are gathered outside of Monsieur Renault's office. The Persian and Philippe are calm, Andre is very jumpy, and Firmin and Erik are indifferent.
Their wait is soon over as the stocky employer emerges from his office to greet them. "Bonjour to you all!" greets the older man in a falsely cheery voice. "Yesterday was certainly an," he searches for the right words to describe the previous day's strange events, "... enlightening day. You all offer some" he pauses again to think of a word to describe their weird answers, "...interesting insight as to how this job can be performed. Unfortunately," he puts on a mournful face though his voice betrays his face by sounding happy, "none of you are right for this certain occupation."
"What!" exclaims three of the five boys.
"I have found someone else a bit more capable then you lads. Of course, it was a tough call ,but this young man only beats you because he is younger."
"Who could it possibly be?" questions Andre. "We were the only ones here yesterday!"
"Ahh, that is true, but this young man showed initiative by being one of the first ones to apply when the announcement was put forth that we needed help," explains Monsieur Renault. "Young sir, come over here!"
They hear footsteps approaching them and turn to see who the new stagehand is. They all stare in shock at who beat them all out. "JOSEPH BUQUET!"
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A/N- I hope that you all enjoyed that. Once again, sorry for taking so long,but I would like to take the time to blame Algebra 2 for making me utterly confused. A pantry full of cookies to anyone who can help with my Algebra 2 problems!
