1. Christine
I could have recognized that shy knocking on the door anywhere.
It was immediately after the ballet rehearsal, and I still had my dancing clothes on. On the door, it was the pulsation that Christine lately had: that light, gentle knock, unsure of what she was knocking for.
"Just a minute", I shouted back at her, while I finished removing my rehearsal clothes. I felt a chill down my spine as the chiton hit the floor, in my forever damp and unheated dressing room.
"Am I disturbing you?"
She knew I wouldn't turn her away, even if I wanted to. I unlocked the door while fastening my clean dress, patting my face with a handkerchief. Christine looked was pale, standing hesitantly at the door, her lips without the least scent of a smile.
"No. No, come in. Please," I said more enthusiastically.
She embraced me lightly and headed to the armchair in the middle of my room. Tentatively, she reached out for a small cushion, taking a seat instead on my bed, fidgeting with the fringes of its cover and placing the cushion on her lap.
Recognizing her antsy way of behaving when she had news to tell me, I laughed and said a little nervously, "What happened now?"
She covered her mouth with her delicate hand and smiled shyly. I tried to read this look, but it was hard to tell her intentions. In a fleeting change of mood, she suddenly turned very serious, avoiding further eye contact, her eyes now fixed on the floor. I would guess she was deciding if she should trust me with this secret of hers or not.
"Meg, remember when we saw the Viscount around the Opera?"
Although I could say that I grew up in the Opera, the truth was, I was not always an artist. Despite my current position in the Corps de Ballet, I still hadn't found anything in the Opera I could truly relate to. Christine, on the other hand, had a remarkably disciplined career, coming from distant lands. Her father taught her music since an early age, and after his death, she entered the conservatory.
When she joined the Opera house, she was very much alone in Paris, and her voice seemed almost too lifeless, even to join the chorus. We soon became friends and I was the first one she told about an old childhood friend she spotted in the audience.
"Meg, I was not mistaken! The Viscount is Raoul. Raoul! The little boy with whom I used to play by the sea, when travelling with my father – he is here!"
Two more times she told me that she had seen him around during daylight, resplendent in his white naval uniform, his blond hair and fair moustache shinning in the sun, with a beaming smile accompanied by his noble, gentle pride, signalling he belonged to those borne with titles and ranking.
At the time, I wondered if she was starting to see ghosts around the theatre.
Actually, speaking of ghosts, I guess it was around those days that the presence of the major ghost, the Phantom of the Opera, was getting more noticeable.
But the Phantom was only the theme of fantastic stories told among stage shifts and the ballet girls, while the aristocrat seen by Christine was our reality.
It was also our reality that the Opera House had undergone change in management, which directly affected many of us. On top of this, there was a lot of commotion due to rumours of on-going blackmailing and threats to management. Letters had revealed a sinister endeavour, forcing them into forking out monthly payments - a considerable sum of 20,000 francs! - to an unknown maniac.
That afternoon, Christine told many stories about her childhood friend and the naïve dreams she held about him when they were younger. Her eyes became a little sorrowful as she tried to point out how impossible this relationship was, since she was only a young singer with no aristocrat background.
But she changed subjects quickly, directing her thoughts to her love for singing. Singing, for Christine, came close to a religious practice, as she relayed to me.
The theory was rather simple: her father dead, he was to send her, from heaven, the Angel of Music to guide and teach her. As the years passed, she ended up believing that the Angel of Music was only a metaphor her father had created for encouraging her, to give her strength to continue her career without him.
But to her utmost surprise, an Angel of Music indeed visited her recently.
And this Angel seemed to know everything her heart longed for...
It took me time to get used to this weird twist in her way of behaving. Once sad and serious, now Christine was absent-minded and full of incredible talk. Her voice had changed a great deal, too - it was almost supernatural, the way her singing technique had improved. And Christine insisted it was the result of her Angel's lessons.
It was quite a responsibility, to take Christine's words for sure. She was older than me, but I always held her as one of my little sisters, because of her fragile and inexperienced personality. So every time she came up with a new inventive story, I would listen attentively but not say one word in return. I was afraid of encouraging her to go further in this world of fantasy.
Not long after this day, Christine received the first strange proposal of her career, the first of many to follow.
I had been in Christine's dressing room when it happened, so I can assure you this tale is nothing but the truth. Management knocked on her door, and seeing me there, asked me to please step outside and give them some privacy.
That, of course, piqued my curiosity. So I remained next to the door and overheard when they officially announced to Christine that her talent had been noticed, and therefore they were offering her the main role in the upcoming Opera!
Well, it was only for a night, to replace the great diva Carlotta, who was suffering from some sudden illness… But only someone who lives and works in a place such as the Palais Garnier knows the odds of such a thing happening!
Even I had to wonder, after that, if the touch of her Angel of Music was somehow in this.
[REWRITING IN PROGRESS ;)]