The entire chorus was buzzing with anticipation over the posting of the roles for the upcoming production of Il Trovatore. Soldiers, nobility, and gypsies turned happily away from the board, their names having been found next to acceptable roles. Among the crowd, Linnea followed Cecily as she pushed her way through the men and women who had gathered in front of it.
Cecily ran her finger down the list, pleased once again with the fact that she could read it for herself. "Come on girl! Get up here, I don't have all night!" She grabbed Linnea's hand and pulled her through the final crowd of chorus members. "Look at this! You got the seconda donna role! I knew that voice of yours would get you somewhere!" She turned and hugged the younger girl soundly, congratulating her on her victory.
Linnea squealed and looked at the list to prove it to herself. She jumped up once and squealed again. "I did! Cecily, I did! I got it!" She looked back at the list. Cecily had taught her to read passably and write the basics. She scanned the rest of the list to the bottom. Cecily's name was nowhere to be found. She turned to Cecily, unsure of what was happening. "You're not here."
Confused, Cecily joined her next to the list. A moment later, she burst out laughing, the deep belly laugh that Linnea was used to hearing from her. "What? What is it?" Cecily pointed to the list, three slots above Linnea's name. Linnea gasped. "Cecily! You're Azucena! You're the prima mezzo-soprano! How! What!" She joined her friend in surprised laughter.
"Looks like they finally found me out! I'm an old gypsy witch after all!" She stepped away from the board, letting others see who they placed at. She glanced up at the clock that ticked heavily against the wall. "Oh dear! I've got to go Linnea! Those ballet girls never are in bed on time unless I tie them there! Congratulations! Good night!"
"Bonne nuit!" Linnea laughed lightly as Cecily bounded off into the darkness. "Fabrizio!" She called to the baritone of a single season. He hailed her and made his way through the crowd. "Well done on winning the role of the Count of Luna!"
"Linnea, siete bei, come sempre!" He kissed her hand and smiled at her. Both of them knew she didn't understand Italian, but they played this game often. "Grazie. What role will you take? Surely you play Leonora, eh?"
His broken French made her smile, but she shook her head. "No, Fabrizio, not her. I am only Ines!"
"Ines is good role! I am happiness for you! Soon, you is prima donna always!"
"La Carlotta would die!" she laughed. "Alas, I do not get to play the woman the Count wishes to marry."
Fabrizio's face took on a serious note. "Be not sure of such things, mia cara."
Linnea blushed furiously as he kissed her hand again. "Buona notte, ragazza graziosa." She stood still in the middle of the shifting crowd, watching as he walked away.
"Good night, Fabrizio."
---
Cecily was hurriedly putting the girls to bed. The chaos of setting the girls in their places was worse than the gathering around the cast list. She did one final count and sighed. A bed was empty. "Has anyone seen Christine?" It would not be the first time that Cecily had had to go down to the chapel to drag the girl to bed. That girl honestly spent more time in the chapel praying for her dead father than she did with her living friends. Not that Cecily was angry at her for her prayers; she just wished that they would end on time for bed.
Meg Giry piped up. Meg was truly a help at times. She was level headed and kind, but still had the innocence of a little girl. "She's at lessons. Momma said to tell you, but I forgot. Sorry."
"It's all right, as long as she's where she's supposed to be. Good night, girls. I'll be back later." A chorus of good nights followed her out as she extinguished the last of the candles. She couldn't help wishing that the dormitories were fitted with Erik's gas lamps. There were so many candles to put out every night!
She closed the door to the room and walked away from the noise of the chorus. She had to tell Erik about her part! Prima mezzo-soprano! It was amazing!
"Cecily! Where you goin'?" She turned. It was Joseph Buquet, and he was obviously drunk. Well, more drunk than usual.
"Nowhere." She couldn't exactly tell him she was going to visit the Phantom of l'Opéra.
"Well then, how about goin' nowhere, with me, eh?" He grabbed her arm. She tried to shake it off, but to no avail. His position as chief of the flies made him stronger than her.
"Buquet! Unhand me, sir!" She pulled against him.
"Sir! Well that's something! I like that. But come on now. You know you want to come with me…"
---
Cecily felt the stone wall. She knew it was cold, but it felt warm to her. She was cold and hard as a stone wall, and as thick as one. Everything was filtering through to her more slowly. Damn that man! Damn him to the depths of Hell!
She threw herself through the opening and into Erik's lair. "Erik! Erik! Please be here!" She sobbed, half screaming. "Please be here! I need you!" She leaned against the wall, realizing that he was gone. "Please," she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she cried into her knees.
---
"Ah! je ris de me voir si belle en ce miroir, Ah! je ris de me voir si…"
"No! No, my dear! No! Nearly, but no! Again!
Christine leaned against the wall. She had danced all day, and now had sung for her angel for several hours. She was tired, and told him so. "Angel, I am weary. Can't we continue later?"
Behind the thin paneling, Erik sighed. The girl was young, and unused to such taxing of the voice. "Of course, my dear. Good night."
She smiled. "Good night, Angel."
She walked from the room, and Erik quickly followed her using the passages. He did this after every practice to protect her. There were those in the Opera House who were unscrupulous, and he had no desire to see the girl hurt. She was so innocent. She was a good girl, though. She would be a prima donna someday. He was sure of it.