Chapter One: Rehearsal at the Opera
Paris, France, 1881: Twenty-Four Years Previous
Raoul de Chagny, the young vicomte of Perros-Guirec and one of numerous patrons of the Opéra Populaire, stepped onto the famous stage. As he gazed at the gold- and velvet-covered auditorium, his view confirmed the belief that Le Opéra Populaire was the grandest and most famous of all the opera houses in Paris.
Performers were covering the stage, their voices filling the theatre. Raoul recognized the loudest singer on stage to be the Italian prima donna of the opera, Carlotta Giudicelli. She was ruthless and proud, but she possessed a superb voice, so the opera managers put up with her as best they could.
The production manager of the opera, Monsieur Lefèvre, raised his voice and called to the chief répétiteur, Monsieur Reyer, to stop the rehearsal.
"Merci, Monsieur Reyer," Lefèvre said. "Ladies and gentlemen, you doubtlessly have heard rumors of my impending retirement. Alas, those rumors are true. I am here to introduce you to the new opera managers: Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles André." There was a smattering of polite applause. "Also present is our newest patron, Lord Raoul de Chagny, vicomte of Perros-Guirec." More enthusiastic praise followed.
"My family and I are privileged to support the distinguished Opéra Populaire," Raoul told Lefèvre.
"Monsieurs, may I introduce you to the opera's prima donna of five seasons, Carlotta Giudicelli, and our leading tenor, Ubaldo Piangi." Raoul, the new managers and the performers all made the necessary pleasantries.
"I see I am keeping you from your rehearsal," Raoul said. "I regrettably must leave you now, but will be attending tonight's performance. Good day to you all." He bowed and left.
Monsieur Reyer turned to the performers. "Once more, s'il vous plaît."
The ballet dancers started their dance routine, all in sync— everyone except for one. A dark-haired girl was lagging behind, seeming to be distracted. A blonde girl next to her whispered, "What is it?"
"Daaé!" Madame Giry, the ballet instructor, barked. "Focus on the dance, not your daydreams!"
"Daaé?" André asked. "Any relation to the Swedish violinist Charles Daaé?"
"His only child, monsieur, and orphaned at age eleven," Madame Giry told him.
"What a pity," Firmin said in an indifferent tone. "Who is the blonde next to her?"
"My daughter, Meg," Madame Giry answered. She focused on the brunette again. "Christine! Pay attention!"
The chorus moved off the stage in synchronized motions until only Carlotta was onstage. She began to sing the beautiful aria in the third act of Hannibal.
Think of me,
Think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye
Remember me
Once in a while
Please promise me you'll try
Then, without warning, a set background started to fall. Piangi rushed forward and pulled the unaware Carlotta out of the way. The prima donna cringed at the noise and started shrieking in Italian.
Meg, seeming to be unable to control her words, called out, "It's the phantom again!"
"Hold your tongue, Meg!" Madame Giry snapped.
"Non è possibile eseguire durante la mia vita è minacciata! No posso!" Carlotta was shrieking at the top of her lungs. "E 'miei rivali! Mi rifiuto di giocare il loro gioco stupido!"
With that, she stormed offstage, leaving Firmin and André shocked.
"Well, monsieurs, I must take my leave," Lefèvre said. "Good day, and the best of luck to you." He bowed to them and walked down the center aisle to the doors.
"What on earth are we going to do?" Firmin exclaimed. "No Elissa for the Hannibal gala? We have to cancel!"
"Let's find someone else," André said. Turning to Monsieur Reyer, he asked, "Do you have a replacement?"
Reyer shook his head. Then Meg Giry surprised everyone by speaking up. "Christine Daaé could sing it, monsieur."
"The dancer?" Firmin said stupidly.
"Give her a chance, monsieur," Madame Giry replied. "She has been taught well."
"All right," André said desperately. "Let her try."
Christine emerged slowly from the mass of dancers. She looked as if she would faint.
"Sing, Christine," Madame Giry told her. "Two measures before the cue, Monsieur Reyer."
When her cue came, Christine nervously opened her mouth and sang quietly. Her voice was good, but fear was covering any present talent.
"This is doing nothing for my nerves," André murmured. Firmin signaled him to be silent.
Christine's voice was changing. It grew louder, loud enough for everyone to hear the beautiful tone and vibrato in her voice. When she finished, a hush fell over the auditorium. Then all the performers applauded madly.
"Bravo, Mademoiselle Daaé!" Firmin called out. "An excellent performance. You will make a splendid Elissa."
Christine looked shocked. A small smile formed on her lips as she curtsied to the managers and fled the stage to practice.