The show had gone by without incident, pleasing every stagehand that had worked on the set. They were happy the phantom had not made himself apparent by killing or seriously injuring someone on the set. Even then, however, several of them believed it to be too good to be true.
That morning, the set painters had the day off and Alison slept in. She was pleased when she woke up to the mid-morning sun shining in through the window, to feel the warmth of her blankets. When she checked the time, it was nine in the morning and she wondered if she should call her dad.
No. She sighed to herself, looking at the contact on her phone with sadness. If he missed you, he would have called you.
She turned off the phone, then sat up in the bed. She was excited for the day and hoped to see more of the city. Alison followed her usual morning routine, put on a casual outfit, and stepped out of the room. She walked to Adele's room and knocked. There was no response for a few seconds, and she knocked again.
"Come in," came the groggy, sleepy voice of Adele. Alison smiled to herself and opened the door to peek her head through.
"Hey," she said, and looked at Adele's wild hair and sleep expression.
"What?" she asked, then threw the pillow over her head. "Something wrong?"
"No, I just wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me today. I haven't seen the city yet." Adele peeked at Alison through the pillow with an unreadable expression.
"Give me ten minutes, and we will go." Alison nodded and left the room. She leaned against the wall next to her bedroom door with a soft sigh. She played on her phone as she waited, laughing every once in awhile as she heard Adele clattering around in the room. In twenty minutes she finally exited the room with her hair pinned up and fresh clothes on. They were nicer than Alison was used to seeing.
"Ready to go?" she asked, slinging a small pouch over her shoulder. Alison nodded and followed her friend, still half-asleep, down the stairs. "So, where do you want to go first? My vote's breakfast."
"Works for me. Know a good place to eat?"
"Of course, mademoiselle! Let us walk two blocks, and I will show you the greatest brunch in the world!" She looked genuinely excited as they walked from their rooms, past the stage, and out of the front of the building. The air was warm and the sun was out, pleasing Alison as she looked over the intricate details of all the buildings. It was a change from America, that much was certain.
They walked down the street, sometimes stopping when Alison wanted to take pictures. They then arrived at a small restaurant filled with people, some sitting at tables with various foods and others typing on laptops.
"What would you like?" Adele asked, turning. "I can order it for you, if you like."
Alison looked over the menu, and decided on a strawberry crepe. She handed Adele the proper amount of money and went to find them a table. Soon enough, Adele came back to the table with her change and two plates of breakfast.
"This definitely tastes better than American crepes," Alison said as she took her first bite. "This is amazing."
"Really?" Alison nodded, and Adele smiled at her. "What is American food like?"
"Greasy." Adele laughed loudly, almost spitting out her food in the process. Alison stifled a laugh.
"Oh, that is not good."
"Agreed." Alison paused, looking out the window at the people who passed on the street next to them. "Adele, what can you tell me about the Phantom of the Opera?"
Adele raised an eyebrow as she took another bite of her own crepe.
"Well . . . I do not know, Ali. Mr. Agen still pays him over 20,000 francs each month. Not that it hurts the theater, of course." She took a drink from her water. "He fell in love with Christine Daae, the mademoiselle with a portrait under the 5th balcony. It did not work out."
Alison recalled the story, and felt interest in the book all over again.
"Then what?"
"He died sometime between then and now, of course. He never left the theater. He still pulls silly pranks on us. Never one to talk, either." She finished at last and Alison finished eating.
She wasn't sure why she was so curious about Erik - he seemed mean at times, but she felt that he never meant what he did. He was almost like her mother in a way, but nothing could compare to what she did.
At the memory, her natural smile faltered for a few seconds before she pushed the memory away. Adele noticed, and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Alison wished she had.