Paris, France, 1882 Chapter 1 Colette's POV I take a deep breath and look at my best friend, Amelie. She looks nervous too. Madame Giry takes us up a large staircase to a large set of doors. "This is the manager's office." The stiff woman informs us. She knocks five times and soon the door threw open. "What?" A short man said. He looked irritated. "Monsieur André, I heard these girls sing at a small theater two days ago and I think you'd like to hear them." Madame Giry says. "We don't have time, Giry." A tall man chimes in, coming to the door. "Please, Monsieur." Madame Giry pleads. "Fine... Make it quick." Andre snaps. "Just sing what you were singing at the theater." Amelie and I look at each other. We've been performing together since we were seven. Our mothers sent us to a Ballet dormitory when we were six, that's how we met. When we were thirteen, we found out we could sing a duet perfectly together. Last year, we needed work and the ballet school had closed. We found a theater that would allow us to sing 3 arias a night for 4 francs apiece. Our parents haven't contacted us in the past 4 years. But honestly, Amelie is more like a sister than a best friend. I don't know what I'd do without her. I start singing. "Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye..." Then Amelie chimes in, starting at the beginning. We sing the song as a round. We finish the aria and wait expectantly for the managers to critique them. "How old are you two?" Farmin asks. "We're both 16, Monsieur." Amelie says. "You remind me of Christine Daae." André remarks to Amelie. "What are your names?" Farmin inquires. "I'm Colette Chevalier and she's Amelie Barousse." I say. "Well, Amelie and Colette, how would you two like to be the leading Sopranos for our new season here at the Opera Populaire?" André asks. Amelie and I look at each other and squeal with delight.