I don't think I can do this; all of this nonsense with Christine and the managers has not only thrown Erik into a tail spin but me as well. Today is our first day of rehearsal and everyone is eerily quiet compared to the usual bustle and noise of the opera house. Erik lets me leave first, promising me that there was nothing to worry about. I walk on the stage, no one paying me any mind as I begin to stretch with the ballerinas. The rhythm of Madame's monotone counting is oddly soothing. What little life it brings to the stage seems to be the only sigh of life; that is until the prima donna's voice rings through as she warms up for the beginning of rehearsal. Slowly the staff begin to resume its usual pace. Maids bustle about, dusting off chairs and polishing the brass on the arms. The stagehands give me sideways glances as I walk past them in my work dress. Maestro Cadenza rapidly taps on his stand, calling everyone's attention to center stage. My eyes wander around, still waiting for Erik to make his appearance known. That's when the maestro's eyes fall on someone back stage. Soon all eyes are on someone behind me. I don't need to turn around to know whose presence is capturing everyone's attention. The near silence footfalls and the gentle sway of a cape bring a small smile to my face.
"Good morning everyone." His silky tenor voice sings out.
"Good morning… monsieur…" Cadenza's eyes are wide. I finally turn to see what everyone is staring at, or rather a lack there of. Erik's face is flawless, his skin is smooth, not a single blemish to be found. If I didn't know any better, I would have mistaken him for a different man. My thoughts drift back to the night we first came to the opera house; a man comes wandering in my tent, his hands grazing over one of my picture frames. The street is busy with people shopping about before the door of the opera house open. Over the crowd I can softly hear my brothers playing away as people drop francs into the hat.
Men and woman are gathered around our modest home as I try and milk them for all I can. If they look at a jewelry box, I suggest a small mirror to go with it. I have to milk it; I don't remember the last time I ate, and trying to keep Lukas and Conner fed, more rather keeping their hunger at bay, was no small task. Lukas understands that we can't always eat, but Conner is too young. I hand the young couple the mirror and box as they drop the francs in my hand. I quickly shove them in my pockets as I see a woman entering my tent. Her crummy hands are all over my mother's quilt and she is demanding its price. How fortunate for me she is a Germanic speaker, for when I scold her and throw her out of my tent, it is not as forced when I speak French. I growl to myself as I put our second greatest possession next to our greatest. Mother's quilt and Father's bible, the irony is almost funny. I pull myself back to my 'storefront' as a man comes forward, one of my frames in his hand. He is dressed in all his finery; a tuxedo, a cape with red lining on the underside, even a silver handled cane. I wanted to reach out and touch is cape, it shined in the dimming daylight, like fabric really shouldn't. He leaned his cane against him and let his fingers graze over my frame. It wasn't really one of my nicer ones, the detailing was scratched, but he seemed to be quite taken with it.
"See anything you like?" His head snaps to meet mine and that's when I couldn't help but smile. His hair was blacker than ebony and neatly smoothed over his head. His eyes were bright blue; almost like ice on a frozen pond. But that smile, that smile brought everything in. He nodded his head and asked which of my elder brothers made the frame. I shook my head, saying I had no elder brothers.
"Those two boys you were performing with are not family?" I assured him they were, and that I was the elder of my family. I paid no attention to the woman asking about one of my nicer frames. I told her the price and let her be on her way. The man moved to a money purse on his hip.
"For your kindness, please keep it." I couldn't believe what I was saying! Did I really just let him HAVE the frame? I could have easily gotten 15 francs out of him. He seemed to like me. He nodded his head and thanked me for the gift before disappearing into the crowd. I hoped secretly we would meet again under better terms…
"Mademoiselle?" my head snaps to Cadenza. "Are you ready to begin act one?"
"Oui Maestro." I bobbed a small curtsey before taking my script from his outstretched arm. Erik's music at the beginning is lively and nearly boisterous. Christine and I open the opera in our room getting ready for the gala.
"Sister dear I can't wait! Hurry up and make haste! For the gala will be starting soon!" Christine opens. Her voice rings high on the last note, everyone sighing at her sweet voice. I call back to her, this being the first time I had ever sung in public.
"Sister please just a moment more! All this makeup is being a chore! Come here and help me please?" I match her note for note, everyone surprised at my range, including me. The music plays on as we follow our score. We sing back and forth about our gown and the nobles and wealthy that will be attending. Soon our voices lead us out the door and into the waiting 'carriage' where the first scene ends. The chords that Erik created for Christine and I are beautiful and easily resonate through the hall. We spend most of the morning roughing out the staging; where we are to stand, where the props will be, and how to act and keep your front to the audience. I never knew acting could be so hard! Of course Christine gracefully flowed across the stage as always; prim and proper like a queen. I do my best to remember all of Maestro's orders, and even some from Madame herself. Shoulders back, stand up tall! Always project your voice to the audience, more expression in your voice! By lunch my head was swimming with orders. Erik walked out from the wings of the stage and took me by the hand.
"If you are to compete with her, you are going to need lessons."
"Lessons from the both of us Erik." Madame takes my other hand as I am lead to a quiet spot not far from the stage.
"She's right; by day you will practice your dance with Madame and at night with me." Good Lord above, what have I gotten myself into? Madame grabs my practice uniform and slippers and drills me with all she has. The lunch hour seems to fly by, and I feel like I accomplished very little with Madame, though she insists otherwise. The orchestra warming up was my queue to change back into my dress and come back on to the stage. We quickly review the opening scene before moving on to the next scene; the gala. The whole chorus joins in for this number; it is a masquerade parts, and fans and paper faces are surely on parade as the song suggests. The choreography is saved for another day since Cadenza wants to get through as much music as possible. The two men acting as the managers come out after the number and announce their new tenor, which is Erik's queue to come out on stage. I quietly hear Christine swoon, and bite my lip to keep myself from taking a swing at her. I hear the orchestra start up a familiar piece, then Erik's voice ring through the air, taking my worries with it.
"Nighttime, sharpens, heightens each sensation… darkness stirs, and wake imagination…" I steal a look at my simple band, wishing the original ring was on my finger. I wish I didn't have to hide our engagement; I don't care what people thing! I am in love with Erik Destler, I am engaged to the Phantom of the Opera, I am to marry the Opera ghost. I know this is the only way to keep him safe in case anyone tries to harm him. Only 2 people know of our engagement; Madame and Lukas, and we hoped to keep it that way. I feel Christine pull me closer to her as Erik sings.
"Isn't his voice beautiful…?" she whispers
"Angelic" I reply.
"I know he is singing for me…" her words send lighting through my body. Soon his eyes turn to us, extending out his hand as he sings with all his might.
"Let your soul take you where you long to be!" The pair of us begin to walk forward, the rest of the chorus fading back. He is to walk down steps toward us, singing his heart out. We come together at his last notes.
"Help me make the music of the night…" The chorus erupts in applause at his voice. He steps back and gives a dramatic bow. Even Christine is spell bound by his song. Even I am spell bound. The rest of the afternoon rehearsal is spent on scene two and it pains me in every way. This is the scene where my sister pushes me aside and takes Christian for her own. As they waltz, I can't help but admit, they do make a nice couple. She is much taller than I, fitting his height wonderfully, and they do dance gracefully across the stage. The music soon stops and he kisses her hand before being drug away by the managers. Our original melody comes back as she is walking on clouds.
"Sister did you see? How the gentleman danced with me! I could hardly breathe!" I cross my arms, upset at my sister.
"Sister I protest! You always get the best! When it comes to men or dress. When will I get a chance to be the one you are envious of?" Our 'father' breaks up our bickering as he introduces Christian to us, my 'sister' reminding him of their dance. Christian kisses her hand, then turns his attention to me.
"Well monsieur I am pleased to see; two beautiful daughters you have for me… I never have seen such beauty in one room. I would like to come tomorrow and call, that wouldn't be any trouble at all?" the father agrees, saying we both are at his disposal. That's when he kisses my hand then turns back to my sister. He says tomorrow he will call for her, then bids us come and dance and drink. This scene we rehearse all day, from the music to the staging to even minor choreography for 'Masquerade'. By the time the day ends I am ready to pounce on everyone, including Erik. I know he is acting to save his skin, but could he just keep it to a minimum? I tell myself not to be mad at him, I tell myself not to be jealous and that we will have our moment. We end rehearsal for today and everyone scampers off to their own little world. I wait in the wing, already changed into my practice uniform, for Madame to clear the stage for my second private rehearsal. I bid Lukas to come and watch, but he uttered words I thought I would never hear. He has a date. A date with a beautiful tailor's daughter who mended his clothes. I wrapped my arms around him and babied him all I could. I cooed and wooed over his newly found romance, ruffling his dull auburn hair as he grumbled at my affections. I ended my torture and left him to go about his evening with the promise of details later. The coo of a baby softly rings out as Raoul comes forward with the child. He kisses her and takes her in his arms while handing the babe off, grumbling about something. Soon the stage is quiet, the sound of birds softly singing through the evening glow.
"Now we will work on your solo pieces. There is much to learn." She taps her cane and I follow her every command. I try my hardest to float across the stage, just like my first performance. I seem to be tripping over nothing and everything. With every twist and spin, I find myself falling over my own feet. Madame slams her cane on the floor and demands me do it again. I push harder and harder all the while my thoughts are focused on one line. You must beat Christine; you must win… I throw myself into my spins, my kicks, my leaps, until I land a little too hard. My body throws me off balance, and make me land with a loud thud on the stage. Shit… that's gonna leave a bruise…or two… I can hear Erik curse and come to my side, picking me up. I can hardly catch my breath; I wheeze through the throbbing pain in my core.
"Are you alright mon amour?" he kisses my temple and helps me to my feet. I look up at Madame.
"Do you wish…to continue…Madame…?" My voice was raspy and rugged, like I had gargled gravel. She shook her head and dismissed me like she would her ballerinas.
"Come amour, let's get you home…" He picks me up in his arms, which I wriggle out of.
"I can walk." I wheezed. "When can we start voice lessons?" I was angry with him, I was angry and jealous and I was doing my best not to let him see it. He shook his head
"Not until you can breathe like normal. I am certain you bruised your diaphragm." He put a hand to my gut and put pressure, making me hiss. He took my hand and lead me back home. As we walk in the deathly darkness, I do my best to keep my jealousy at bay. One voice is telling me to scream and accuse him of being in love with her once again. It's telling me to pull away now, hurt him, run away and never look back. The voice is practically screaming in my head. In between cries comes a softer, smaller voice. It coos to me to be patient, to wait and let everything fall into place. I begin to play with the silver band on the third finger of my left hand. My fingers soon run across words I didn't even see inscribed on the ring Toujours et à jamais… I looked back up at Erik, who still hand my other hand in his. I give it a soft squeeze, pulling his attention from the deadly trail. He only looks back for a moment before releasing my hand and pulling another lever, the sound of hissing slowly decreasing. I could hear the quiet movement of the lake as we crossed the bridge.
"I'm sorry…" he stops in his tracks. His back remains to me. "I… I was jealous…" His head snaps back and eyes are wide. I can't exactly tell what emotion they embody, but I soon drop to my knees with my head in my hands. I shake my head. "I was jealous…" over and over I mutter those three words. Boisterous and thunderous laughter fills the cave. Oh God he's gone mad! He's going to lose it… That when I feel arms wrap around me as the laughter becomes cries.
"You were jealous… I can't believe it!" He pulls back and lifts my eyes to his. His thumb wipes away my tears. In his eyes are a mixture of emotions; I think I can see relief the most. He pulls me from my knees and into his lips. God that kiss, it was one I was not ready for. It screamed passion, love, devotion. I forget who's air I am breathing, only when he back away do I remember how to breathe. "You are my world mon ange…" his voice but a soft whisper as he kisses me once again, leading me back to the bedroom.
