MADDIE

I opened my eyes and found myself looking up at Charles as I rubbed my head. As he held out his hand to me, I accepted it and he pulled me up, pulling a bit too hard and making the both of us topple onto the bed with me falling on top of him. I quickly pulled back and stood up, crossing my arms. I wasn't really angry as I was embarrassed that he had scared me.
"Jesus, are you sure you aren't some kind of ghost?" I said, trying to catch my breath and he sat up, laughing.
"I'm sure...I thought Aunt Meg would have told you I was waiting for you in here..." He replied, with a half smile.
"No, she must have forgotten..." I said, sitting next to him and rubbing my sore feet.
"Did you hurt yourself?" He asked, genuinely concerned and I almost laughed.
"No..." I replied and he said,
"What's wrong with your foot?" This time I did laugh.
"Well, you try standing on your toes with nothing more than a little block of wood to support you and tell me how your feet feel!" I exclaimed and he laughed, blushing.

"Sorry..." He said sheepishly and I couldn't help but grin.
"Nothing to be sorry about...how would you know anyway, right?" He shrugged, clearing his throat.
"So...uh...is there a piano or something we could use?" He asked, and I thought for a moment. There was of course the small storage room with an old grand piano in it. It was a bit dusty, but still pretty well in tune. I nodded.
"Yes, there is the one I play on sometimes. It's in an old storage room at the end of the dressing room hall. Let me change my clothes and then we'll go down there." He nodded as I went behind my changing screen. As I removed my leotards and tights, I draped them over the top and could hear Charles gasp when I did so.
"Is there a problem Charles?" I asked, trying not to laugh. Stupid hormonal boys. He cleared his throat nervously.
"Erm...no." He mumbled as I fumbled with my chemise and corset, quickly lacing it in front and then turning it around to tie it. I threw on a dress and fixed my hair a bit which I decided to keep back.

"Ready!" I said, coming back around the screen to see a flushed Charles.
"You look...uh...nice." He said, stuttering and I couldn't help myself any longer.
"Wow..." I said in my most flirtatious voice, fluttering my eyelashes, "Are you always this eloquent a speaker?" I elbowed him gently and laughed aloud.
"Sorry." He said again for what seemed like the twentieth time and I shook my head.
"I was joking Charles..." I said, giving him a pat on the shoulder and motioning for him to follow me. We walked silently down the dark halls of the opera house until we got to that dreaded wing of the opera I hated for the storage room was right across from that old dressing room. A shiver went down my spine as we passed it and I threw the door to the storage room open and lit a candle.
"It's a bit dark, but it works. And nobody will bother us because they don't come down here..." I said and he looked intrigued.

"Why don't they come down here?" He asked and I said,
"It's just creepy. I just get a strange feeling when I pass that room across the hall..." I said, feeling like a silly ballet rat.
"I see..." He replied, pulling out some music and sitting at the old piano, blowing a bit of dust off. He sighed, "Um...alright. Let's see how high your range is..." He said, positioning his hands on the keys. I nodded and sang the scales as he played them. His eyebrows raised as it got higher and higher. Finally, my voice cracked, telling him we had found my limit.
"Impressive Madeleine..." He said, smiling at me in the dim candlelight. "Your highest note is an F above high C." I could only look at him blankly.
"Is that good?" I asked and he nodded.
"Very...all your voice lacks is control." He replied and I had no idea what he meant.

"Control?" I asked and he rose from the piano. He placed his hand on my stomach, pressing just below my ribs.
"Right around here is a muscle called the diaphragm. This is where the support for your voice comes from. Learning to breathe right will help you control this muscle and in doing this you can gain control over your voice." He said softly, giving me a sort of understanding of what he meant.
"I see." I said, trying not to move with his hand on my stomach. I realized I wasn't even breathing.
"Now, what I want you to do is follow my lead and breathe with me. In through your nose...out through your mouth, pushing against my hand as you do." I did what he said and finally felt what he meant about the diaphragm. His hand moved as I breathed and he smiled.
"Good...you picked that up fast. How about we do a few bars of this song from...Hannibal.i" I nodded, a bit nervous.

"iHannibal..." I repeated, "We're doing Hannibal soon you know..." I informed him and he grinned.
"I know..." He said and I raised an eyebrow at him.
"You are positively evil! What are you up to, Charles?" I asked him and he shrugged innocently.
"Nothing...nothing...just trying to figure out how to get Benedetta out and you in." He replied and I shook my head.
"No! It's not possible! She's too big of a name...it'll never work. Do you even have a plan?" I asked him and his smile only widened.
"Not yet, but I have a few ideas..." Oh dear God, what have I gotten myself into with this madman?
"You're absolutely mad." I said to him, and he shrugged casually.
"And your point...?" I was going to retort when he hushed me.

"The song is called "Think of Me," He said, interrupting my weak attempt, "It is the last aria of the opera and the lead, Elissa sings it." I became a bit annoyed by how stupid he thought I was.
"Yes, Charles I know. I've been here for six years. I know the show..." I shot at him and he looked a bit hurt. Instantly I regretted my words, for he'd just been trying to help.
"I'm sorry Charles...that was rude." I said with a sigh and he smiled.
"No...don't worry about it. It was stupid of me to treat you like an idiot." He apologized and I nodded in acceptance.
"Do you know the song well?" He asked me.
"Well enough. I've heard it over twenty times." I said and in response he began to play the opening notes.
"Good, sing then..." He commanded, and I did.
"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye...
Remember me, every so often, promise me you'll try...
On that day, that not so distant day, when you are far away and free...
If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me..."
After I'd finished the cadenza, I just stared at him in disbelief. Had that really been my voice? He was grinning from ear to ear and leapt from the bench, obviously caught up in his happiness and swung me up into the air. To my own surprise, I laughed and threw my arms around him as he spun us around.

Suddenly, we realized what we were doing and he abruptly set me to my feet and shook my hand uncomfortably.
"Sorry." We both said at the same time, and laughed.
"You sound great Maddie!" He exclaimed happily and I brought my hands to my head, feeling dizzy with excitement.
"It was unreal...like a dream...I sounded like...like an opera singer!" I cried, beaming. His eyes were full of pride.
"I've never coached anyone before..." He said breathlessly. "We can do this, you know..." I turned to him, confused.
"Do what?" I asked, looking into those mischievous light green eyes.
"Bring talent to this place. Make you a star..." I stared at him. I'd never dreamt of fame or fortune. I was perfectly content with food and shelter.

"Why me, Charles? Why not Deirdre or one of your cousins or something?" I asked him, wondering why he'd been so drawn to me.
"I don't know Maddie," He admitted, "There's something special about you. Like you could do anything. Like I can do anything when I am with you...we make a great team." I laughed uneasily.
"We hardly know each other..." I said, ever the realist. His eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight.
"Do you believe in fate?" He asked, suddenly and I was taken aback.
"What?"
"Fate." He repeated, "Do you believe in it?"
"No. It's a silly myth. Love is overrated too..." I said bitterly and he looked so sad as he brushed the back of his fingers softly across my cheek.

"Poor Madeleine...you have been so hurt..." He practically whispered, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. I was drawn to his eyes in the dim light.
"Your eyes look yellow in the candlelight..." I responded, and he laughed.
"Is that a compliment?" He asked and I suddenly realized what I'd said.
"I don't know..." I said, lamely and looked down and my hands. He brought my chin back up and I realized I was crying.
"Maddie..." He whispered, comfortingly as he pulled me to him. "Maddie, Maddie, Maddie..." He repeated as if he'd never tire of saying it. It felt strange being comforted by this man, a stranger practically, and yet, I found myself clinging to him as if he were my guardian angel. My savior. I held onto him as if he were my only hope from being sucked into everlasting darkness and he rocked me gently.

He pulled back a bit and kissed me on the forehead. I kept my head down because I knew if I looked at him, he might kiss me, and I didn't think I would resist him.
"Let's call it a day, shall we?" He asked me and I looked up at him and nodded. He picked up the candle and blew it out, keeping his arm around my shoulders and opening the door. The door across the hall caught his eye and we stopped.
"What's in here? He asked me, and I sucked in a breath. The dreaded dressing room.
"Just an old dressing room. No one's used it in years..." I said, and he looked down at me.
"Why?"
"I don't know..." I said. It wasn't a lie. I just didn't like the feeling I got when I went in there. As if some lost soul was trapped within its walls.

"Let's have a look..." He said, and I shook my head.
"Charles, no." I protested, but it was too late for he'd already opened the door and gone inside. When I heard voices coming down the hall I quickly followed and shut the door. He was looking around.
"My God," He exclaimed, "It's had to have been deserted for at least twenty years..." I nodded, looking at the painting on the wall. It was a woman, a former diva in full costume. The frame was engraved: Carlotta Guidicelli as Elissa in Hannibal September 1880.
"Twenty-five actually." I said, doing the math in my head as he gasped, pointing to another painting with the same woman in it. She wore a huge bright pink gown and was standing beside a smaller woman, who looked, surprisingly like me.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, eyeing the girl. He pointed to the smaller girl.
"That's my mother." He said, pointing to the engraving.
La Carlotta as The Countess, Christine Daae as Serafimo, the pageboy. Il Muto, November 1880.
"This was a year before I was born." He said, looking at the vanity. On it was an extremely old, wilted rose with a tattered black ribbon tied around it.
"Interesting..." I said, pointing to the rose, "Someone gave me a rose like that too." I said, and he blushed. There was also an old letter folded up on the vanity. He opened it up and motioned for me to come to him, which I did as he began to read it aloud.

"My Dearest Little Lotte,
Please forgive me for putting this on you, but there is no other way to escape him. I only want us to be happy. I just wanted to say I love you, and I will be watching you perform as Aminta from Box 5. Do not be afraid, I will not let him take you from me. We will get through this Christine. I love you.
Ever yours,
Raoul"

Charles looked up at me strangely.
"I will not let him take you from me..." He repeated softly. Who? I wondered, not even knowing who Raoul or Lotte or Christine was.
"What is this?" I asked, motioning to the letter and he looked a bit lost.
"Raoul is my Dad. Christine is...was...my mother. My father called her Little Lotte." He said, just above a whisper.
"This is your mother's letter?" I asked, incredulously, and he nodded, still in a bit of shock. "Well, who is he?" I said, referring to the "he" that Charles's father had kept referring to in the letter. He shrugged.
"I...I don't know." He replied, and folded the letter back up, tucking it into the inside pocket of his coat. He looked back at the picture of Carlotta from Hannibal. He stared at it for a long moment when suddenly, his eyes lit up.
"What?" I asked, when he began to smile and he looked at me.
"I know how to get rid of Benedetta!"