Chapter 2. I was originally going to the chapters I've already written one per week to give me more time to write, but I think I'll do one a day until everyone's caught up.
Chapter 2
She made her way to the managers' office, rubbing her tired eyes.
"Ah, Maxine, my good friend! How was the performance?"
"I fell asleep. It's a long walk from my house to here, so you must realize that I am tired. And please call me Max, I've told you that I don't like Maxine many times!" "Why don't you get a ride?" M. Richard asked.
She shook her head and said "I have not come here to chat about my walk here. I have come to ask where Mademoiselle Daae's room is. If you would be so kind to tell me, that is." The managers exchanged glances and then kindly told Max how to find Mlle. Daae's room.
Upon arriving at Mlle. Daae's dressing room, Max learned that the corridors leading to the room were very jumbled and at the same time, very organized. A genius built this Opera, no doubt about that. Garnier surely wasn't that great of an architect. Or at least didn't have the imagination to think of such a grand building. She thought, gazing down the dark hallway. Remembering what she had come for, she turned and lifted her hand to knock on the large, wooden wood. The door opened before Max could get two inches closer to it.
"Oh! I'm very sorry, madam, I was just leaving. Did you want to speak with me?" asked a very beautiful young lady, around the age of twenty or so, and very likely Mlle. Daae herself.
"Are you Mademoiselle Daae?" Max asked. The lady nodded and looked over Max's shoulder, obviously looking for someone, or something.
"I was wondering if you could answer a few of my questions." Christine nodded again, still searching the corridors. "Are you listening?"
"Oh, yes! But come, we can't just stand out here! Please have a seat in my room." Christine invited kindly, but was beginning to look anxious.
"Are you looking for someone?" Max asked, now looking in the direction of Christine's gaze.
"You didn't happen to see M. le Vicomte de Chagny, did you?" Christine asked, oblivious to Max's curious stare.
"He left with le Comte de Chagny. I figured they were on their way to see you. What a surprise to me when I see you walk out alone!" Max tried to laugh while saying this, but she noticed that Christine still wasn't paying attention.
"Come, you don't need to wait for me to sit down first! Oh, don't be so polite, I'm merely a simple lady, a few years older than you!" Max added. She grabbed Christine by the arm and gently pulled her to the inside of the room.
Christine remembered that she had a guest and turned her full attention to Max. "What are the questions that you would like to ask?" Christine asked with a warm smile.
"What is your relationship with the Opera Ghost?" Max didn't care for small talk, so she jumped right in. Christine went very pale and began trembling.
"The Opera Ghost?" She echoed, "I have never met him. You've come to the wrong person, if you want information about the ghost!" She said with a forced laugh. "Please, mademoiselle, I know you know him. Or you know him as the Angel of Music or Erik." Max implied. If it was possible, Christine went paler than before.
"Who told you of Erik? Why do you want to know these things?" Christine asked nervously.
"I have many connections. I only wish to know this because it interests me, and for no other reason than that." Max reassured her.
"Who are your 'connections'? I refuse to answer anything more without knowing who has betrayed his secrets!" Christine was getting her regular color back, and her eyes grew bright with anxiety.
"Someone you don't know very well. Someone you least expect. He has asked me not to tell anyone where I learned Erik's secrets, and I keep my promises, mademoiselle!" Max said proudly. Christine stood up and straightened her crinkled dress. Gliding, as a ballerina does, to the door, Christine opened it and motioned for Max to leave.
"I ask one thing of you, madam, and that is to stay out of my business! The only way you'll get Erik's is by talking with him yourself! Now shoo!" Christine rushed Max out of the room, slammed the door shut, and bolted it.
She likes to keep her secrets to herself, Max thought as she wound her way to the entrance. She paused and looked down the hall that would lead to the cellars below, including the third cellar, which Erik has disappeared in so many times before the Persian's eyes. It won't hurt anybody, and if it does, it would be me. Nobody of importance, that's for sure! She thought. She turned on her heels and moved quickly down the hall. When she came upon stairs, she flew down them as fast as she could. Eventually, she was down in the third cellar, and, panting, she muttered to herself,
"Too many stairs! Why make it so far when they need to come down here so often?" Thinking of the Persian's story, she slipped between the set piece and the scene from 'Roi de Lahore'. She felt the wall, looking for the spring that would make an opening in the wall. Ah ha! Now just a little push and… There, she thought. She waited for only a few moments before a stone lifted and moved aside.