Act One: Orpheus in the Underworld

Chapter One

I had always imagined the passages of the opera, the pristine palace of music to be as grand and breathtaking as the rest of the building. However as I wandered them for the first time, I discovered it was not so.

While the façade of the opera glistened in the Paris sun outside, it's inner workings were dark, cramped, crowded and loud. I touched my hand to the hat on my head, afraid that in such close space, it would strike someone passing by.

I also noticed in my search for the right dressing room that I was not noticed. Stagehands, ballerinas and musicians all passed by me without a second glance, though it was clear from my dress and manner that I did not belong in such company. Fine tuxedo jackets with velvet and costumes adorned in lace made my outdated wardrobe seem centuries old, instead of decades. I had already bumped shoulders with a few people who rushed by in such a hurry that they didn't even stop to hear my apology.

Keeping my wits about me, I managed to find my way to the right wing of the backstage maze. I was amazed that in spite of my constant distractions that I hadn't fallen right into a storage closet! The corridor I was looking for belonged to the stars of the opera. A private wing with lavish suites for each principle singer and I had just recently learned that the Opera Populaire boasted more than just one.

There was the well known diva, La Carlotta and the popular tenor, Carlous Fonta. However added to this was a half dozen other performers from mezzos to basses, that shined in roles throughout the opera's repertoire. It was one of these singers that had brought me to this place.

I had always secretly dreamed of one day coming to the opera, but the idea of actually singing here was a pure fantasy. I could remember fondly my dear friend and I talking of becoming great divas when we were children. Now she was on her way to fulfilling that dream.

In my hand I held a letter, the one that had brought me here on my strange journey. I was more than embarrassed to not think of writing to my friend sooner, since I had been living in Paris now for more than five years. I didn't think that now that we were grown that she would want to acknowledge me. So imagine my surprise when I received her letter, full of happiness to reconnect with me and begging me to come to the opera and pursue our childhood dreams together.

I smiled at the thought, but I knew it was hopeless for me. I hadn't gone to school to train as a singer and my voice was badly out of practice. It might have been charming enough when I was a girl, but I grew up and I changed.

Reaching my destination, I boldly knocked on the door, hoping my friend was inside. I didn't trust myself to go on another foray into the twisted passages again. The door open I was greeted with the face of a young woman. She was strikingly beautiful, but still had some of the same features I remembered from those years ago.

She was a few inches taller than me, and I had to look up to meet her gaze. Her face appeared dewy, as if she had just washed it. She was wearing an elegant wrapper of cream and peach silk, and her blond hair fell loose down her back.

However, her lovely face was impassive when she spoke.

"May I help you?" she inquired.

I lowered my eyes. "Pardon me; I was looking for Mademoiselle de Chagny. Is this the right dressing room?" I asked timidly.

"No you are in the right place. So how may I help you?" she informed me. As I looked up, preparing mental on how I was to re-introduce myself, her emotionless face suddenly perked up, and her eyes grew wide.

"Wait…no! Christine? Is that you Christine?" she asked.

A smile was my only answer. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around my frame in a fierce hug. Now I could tell how much taller she really was as I had to tuck my head under her chin to avoid running into her. A delightful laugh rang from her throat.

"Ah Christine! It is you." She exclaimed. "I'm so glad you came."

I hated to push away, but we certainly couldn't stand in the hallway embracing much longer. "It's good to see you too, Genny" I told her. I was ushered inside to a small room that despite it's size was elegantly furnished. A row of dark trunks in shades of browns and reds were stacked neatly against one wall. Above them hung posters of past productions scattered over the pastel wall paper. A dressing table of golden wood filled one corner, it's table top littered with brushes and cosmetics. Genny took a seat at a small glass table in the middle of the room, and gestured for me to do the same.

"Now Christine Daae, tell the truth. How much longer would you have kept away from the opera if I hadn't written to you first?" she asked.

For some reason I could not take my eyes off a large mirror, stretching the full length of the wall her behind her. It was quite an elegant mirror. "I'm sorry I didn't write to you first, Genny." I apologized. "I wasn't sure if you still even remembered me and I have been busy taking carry of Mamma.. Madame Valerius" I was quick to correct myself from calling my guardian by childhood nickname I had given her

"Oh, Madame Valerius!" Genny's eyes lit up. "Your father spoke of them that last summer on the coast. Are they well? How is your father?" She was so absorbed in her rapid fire of questions that she must not have notice my lips quiver and my eyes drop.

I couldn't blame her. After all, she didn't know.

"Professor Valerius passed away about four years ago… and papa…" I swallowed, trying so hard not to cry. It had been years. "Father died about a year after that. I've been watching over Madame Valerius' household for the past few years. She's been rather sick, but now she seems to doing much better." I added desperate to change the topic.

Genevieve's hands rested over her chest and her eyes were filled with a genuine look of sorrow. "I am glad to hear that Madame Valerius is well." She didn't need to say anymore. Genny and I had both lost our mothers when we were young. Hers in childbirth and my own died when I was just six years old. Her father had also died when she was still very young. With the only paternal figure in her life being two dour aunts, Genny had learned to look up to her eldest brother and adored him like a father.

"Thank you. It's because of Madame Valeius' improving health, that she has allowed me to come to work here at the opera." I informed her, glad to have our conversation move away from sad memories.

Genny gave another laugh of delight. "Oh so you have joined the chorus after all. I knew that's why you came to see me. And it's only a matter of time before you'll have your own dressing room right next to mine!" Genevieve's prattled on in her usual fashion and I raised a hand to interrupt.

"I said I came here to work, but I'm not in the chorus!" I protested with a laugh.

She stopped her demonstration of girlish delight and starred back at me bewildered. "You're not in the chorus?"

I explained to her that I had only just been hired in the last hour. I had applied to the advertisement for dressers at the opera. I meet with Madame LeRoy who I had imagined was a strict matron of a woman, due to the no-nonsense wording of her advertisement. Upon my arrival, I was pleasantly surprised to find an agreeable and well dressed middle age woman. She had been seeking employees outside the usual backgrounds of the working class. She informed me that she was looking for young ladies of certain breeding and manners, ready to assume the responsibilities of caring for the singer's costumes and the independent drive to keep everything in order. I had replied nervously that I didn't have any personal experience of being a ladies maid or anything close to it, but that I was certainly ready to learn.

I thought I would be immediately rejected so it was much to my surprise that I was hired and given a grand tour of the wardrobe department by Madame LeRoy herself.

Genny titled her head and her lips at the same time upon hearing my explanation. "Well, if that suits you Christine, but I am determined to get you into the chorus. I'll have to pull some strings to get you an audition you know. The opera is under new management."

"I didn't know that?"

"Oh yes, Debienne and Poligny resigned and we are having a gala send off for them before we open this dreadful new opera." She intoned, twisting a curl in her fingers.

"What is the opera?" I asked. I never knew Genny to be so particular to music before.

"Orpheus and the Underworld. Offenbach, a comedic operetta of all things. Apparently the new managers want to make the season more appealing to the common man, who can't afford to buy tickets to the opera as it is. Why would people want to go to the opera to listen to music they can find in a dance hall?" she grumbled.

"What role are you singing?"

Her mood immediately changed. "Diana! The virgin goddess," she struck a pose "but I get to be such a wicked flirt!" Even I had to giggle at that.

"You won't have to do much acting then." I pointed out.

"My my, Christine Daae, you've grown a tongue! How inconsiderate of you to tease me like that." She joked, walking over to a large vase of flowers.

"How are your brothers? I hope they are in as good spirits as you are." I asked.

"Philippe is just as stubborn as he's always been." She said, flicking her thumb against the newly open petals of a white rose. "Oh but that's right you've never met Philippe. But Raoul, oh Raoul he will be so excited to see you again!"

My cheeks went red at the thought. My childhood friend had grown so beautiful and confident since we were children. I could not imagine the changes that had happen to her older brother, Raoul.

The Vicomte de Chagny, I reminded myself.

"I don't even think he remembers me." I said truthfully.

Author's Note: I'm looking for a beat reader to help with spelling and grammar. Please PM me if you are interested!