Blue green eyes opened to bright sunlight steaming through light blue curtains. The woman turned her head and shielded those eyes with her hand softly moaning. With effort, the twenty-one-year-old sat up her dark dreams fading from her memory.
Aimee stretched and finally climbed out of bed then headed to her bathroom. She stared at reflection for a moment, her very long dark hair slightly falling across her face. The woman sighed as she suddenly turned away. She was not a beautifully gorgeous woman, but her features were pleasant her eyes still large and outstanding.
Once done in the bathroom Aimee came out to dress and quickly formed her hair into one long braid. Glancing at the clock in her room she raced down stairs to eat some breakfast. As she quickly ate, so to not be late for work, she felt awkward in the foreign silence of her small home outside of Paris. Her best friend from school, whom she now lived with, was visiting relatives in southern France and would be gone for a long time.
After grabbing her simply decorated hat, Aimee left locking the door behind her. She filled her lungs with the crisp morning air before quickly walking down the short path, the colorful flowers blooming on either side, and exiting through the gate. Everyday it was the same routine, ambling into the downtown of her little city, and saying 'hello' to neighbors and familiar faces along the way. Pass the bakery, the carpenter, and the seamstress was, finally, the flower shop Aimee's second home and job. As she entered, the bell on the door letting out a cheerful jingle, she slipped off her light cape and hat.
"Good morning Aimee," she was suddenly greeted by a friendly voice.
"Good morning Mrs. Yves," Aimee replied automatically but politely.
Mrs. Yves was the owner of "Yves' Flowers" a kind but firm older lady in her fifties. Silver and gray were mixed in with her brown hair which was tied into a tasteful bun. Soft brown eyes watched Aimee as she went in the back to hang up her things.
"Morning Aimee!" a very jovial voice rang out close to Aimee who turned to find her co-worker whose arms were filled with roses in all different colors.
"Morning Odette, do you need help?" she asked already moving forward.
"Please," the pretty blonde and blue eyed woman nodded, "we'll also need three vases and Mrs. Yves has the arrangements for them."
"All right," she nodded taking some of the burden away from her friend. As the two walked back into the main room Aimee inquired, "Oh, has anyone brought in the newspaper yet?"
"Yes," Odette answered as they carefully put down the roses. She then picked up a piled of papers from a counter and handed them to Aimee.
"Thank you," she smiled and then looked down at the front page the big, bold statement catching her eye first:
OPERA HOUSE DISASTER IN PARIS
Aimee's eyes grew wide as she read on. "Last night in Paris the famous Opera Populaire went up in flames, the cause of the fire was from uncanny circumstances. Many actors, crew, and even the owners believe that the infamous Opera Ghost was the source of the disaster."
"Opera Ghost huh!" Aimee suddenly heard Mrs. Yves behind her, "Those Parisians are too superstitious if you ask me," Aimee just shrugged and continued reading.
"The only known witnesses were Christine Daae and her fiancée Vicomte Raoul de Chagny who have actually claimed to have seen the Opera Ghost and have said he was definitely capable of burning the Opera House, "A tortured soul," said Daae, "with only half a face.."
Aimee read the quote again, her dark dreams of a stormy night and her sad aunt flashed across her mind.
"Only half a face," she whispered to herself.
--
"One side of his face was infected and red … "
--
"Aimee? Aimee?" the young woman was abruptly brought back into the present by the voice of Odette.
"Sorry Odette."
"Everything all right?" she asked concerned.
"Yes –um- did you get the vases?" Aimee said to change the subject and get back to work.
Quickly she set aside the newspaper, while Odette nodded and the two of them set to work on arranging the roses into lovely bouquets. One with only red roses, another with pink and white, and the last with a few white and red filled with baby's breath.
As Aimee continued to work she kept glancing as the newspaper sitting on the counter, the frightening black words staring back at her. She tired to block it all out of her mind, it was ridiculous. This man, this Opera Ghost, was a myth – the witnesses could have easily made up anything to get attention. Besides her Aunt Eleonore said her mother gave him to the gypsies, so how could he have gotten to the Paris Opera House? But the article still nagged her.
The jovial jingle of the doorbell caught her attention; obviously Mrs. Yves had put the 'open' sign up. Aimee went into the main room only to wish she hadn't. It was Jacqueline and her ever-present third arm Stephen. Jacqueline was an old enemy from school, and surprisingly her pack of wolves – or friends weren't at her heels this morning. She was tall, thin, and had lovely honey blonde hair that actually brought out her bright green eyes. Full red lips slipped into a smirk as she saw Aimee.
"Good morning Aimee," she said sounding like some cunning snake from a fable.
"Good morning Jacqueline, Stephen, you're here quite early," Aimee said neutrally.
"Of course we're here early Jackie just couldn't wait for the flowers I ordered for her," handsome, light brown haired, but dark brown eyed Stephen cooed, those eyes locked upon Jacqueline all the while. Everyone called her Jackie, except Aimee.
Aimee just nodded disinterestedly and the quickly went to find their flowers to get them out of there. She picked up the pink and white roses with a crystal vase and returned to the engrossed pair.
"Here you are," she said handing it to Jacqueline who squealed in delight.
"Oh, Stephen it's beautiful!"
'Your welcome,' thought Aimee bitterly.
"Not as beautiful as you my love," he said smoothly.
Jacqueline smiled and kissed his cheek. Aimee cleared her throat slightly, her enemy only turned to look at her like she was scum as Stephen paid for the flowers.
"Thank you," Aimee said monotone.
"Don't worry Aimee," Jacqueline said with fake concern, "one day I'm sure you'll get a bouquet of flowers as a present," she smirked dangerously, "instead as a task."
"Good day Jacqueline," Aimee said a little more vicious then she wanted to.
Stephen placed his arm around her waist while her eyes lit up triumphantly.
"Good day Aimee," she said smooth as silk then they left.
Aimee let out a soft growl as Odette came in and rested a kind hand on her shoulder.
"Forget about her Aimee, her only goal in life is to make others feel miserable and worthless."
"I know," Aimee sighed, "I just wasn't expecting to have to deal with her this early. It can't be healthy," the two young women laughed.
"All right girls, back to work the drama is over," called Mrs. Yves.
"Yes Mrs. Yves," the flower shop girls said in unison.
A/N: Ugh, I hate first chapters don't you? They're always the most boring of the chapters, so... sorry. By chapter (I wanna say) 3 things should pick up, please review and keep reading there's more to come.