Chapter 1: Music of the Night
"From the beginning," Madame Giry said, loud enough to be heard from the back seats.
The ladies snorted. They'd been rehearsing the same number for a week now, every single day. The reason why was that on a certain part of the song, they had to make a circle around the diva and give fast twirls while they made some steps they had just modified from a previous choreography.
But some of them, or many of them, always forgot that part. They just surrounded the diva and knelt on their final pose. And the few ones who didn't forget started making the steps but they looked strange, because the others had already stopped dancing. By the end of the song they were all doing a different thing and they didn't even have a circle anymore.
"And please, please, this time follow Meg and Julliette on the front line. On the back, go behind Christine," Madame Giry pointed at said girls with her walking stick.
"Mom," Meg snorted. Next to her, Julliette giggled.
They set again for another practice. By the end of that day they could finally get the dance just right. Madame Giry clapped.
"Very well," she said, walking into the circle. "Tomorrow you'll practice with the actual diva here inside, please try not to forget. Also, Monsieur Lavefre said tomorrow he'll pass by at the rehearsal so you need to get it perfect. But it's all for today, now go to rest," she said.
All the girls stretched and sat on the floor. It surely had been a long day. They were talking and taking off their ballet slippers. Some were going to take a shower or to sleep. Julliette sat on the floor, her feet hurt terribly. Her two best friends, Meg and Christine sat with her.
"So, how do you think the new managers will be?" Meg asked.
"New managers?" Julliette asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Haven't you heard?" Meg looked at them. Christine shook her head in denial.
"Well, there are rumors that Monsieur Lavefre is retiring, and according to my mother, it might be true. Rumors say that two rich gentlemen will be the new managers," she explained, obviously pleased for knowing more about the matter than her friends.
Julliette and Christine nodded.
"So," Meg continued, "how do you think they'll be?"
"I don't know," Christine said. "I just hope they're nice."
"I hope they keep things at peace," Julliette was rubbing her feet.
"So do I," Meg agreed, then she looked at Christine. "Won't you have lessons tonight with your 'great tutor'?" she asked.
Christine shrugged.
"He calls me. I can't know when he'll appear," she answered.
"Yeah right," Meg said. She clearly didn't believe a word about Christine's mysterious singing teacher, though her friend was a talented opera singer. Julliette smiled.
"When you see him, tell him that I say he does an excellent job with you," she said playfully. Christine smiled.
"Thank you."
"Well girls, go to your room already," Madame Giry urged. They stood and followed the other dancers upstairs.
"Christine," she stopped her when the others were far enough. "He wants to see you tonight," she whispered on the girls' ear. Christine nodded and went with her friends. Julliette looked at Madame Giry.
"At the same time?" she asked her. Madame Giry nodded.
"You'll have time to go after her lesson. Rest until then," she said. Julliette smiled and went to her room.
She was one of the few dancers who had a room of her own. She just had her bed, a table with a few things and papers, her wardrobe and a window looking to the street. Next door were the rooms of Seraphine and the sisters Dominique and Charlotte.
She changed to a comfortable dress and pulled the covers up to her knees. From one of her drawers she took some scores and a pen and ink. She started completing some lines with musical notes and directions.
He had told her to fix that wrecked song and play if for him. It was from one of the operas that the maestro had composed by himself. According to him, the maestro had no talent in anything but directing the orchestra, which could be clearly seen on his insulting work, so, it was her task to turn it into something better. And she was almost done. She was on the last page.
Around midnight she spotted a candle's light from outside and knew Christine was going to the chapel for her lesson. She had already finished with the song and had laid down to sleep for a bit. But then she just sat and looked through the window.
An hour later the light appeared again, meaning she was going back. She stood and fixed her hair a little. She took the scores and stayed next to the wall. Once she heard Christine's door closing at the end of the hallway she opened hers slowly and closed it behind her. With careful steps she walked along the aisle. Only dim moonlight dissipated the darkness.
She reached a small corridor with a golden statue on the end. She turned the statue's wrist and it began to move to one side, revealing a long staircase that went down. She got inside and behind her the statue moved again until the wall covered the entrance.
She kept going down until the stairs ended. There were several tunnels and corridors entangling and leading to all places in the Opera, but she knew exactly which way to go. After an eternity walking through the maze she reached the end of the floor. Instead, there was water covering the surface. She spotted the small bridge and crossed it to the other side. From behind a rock wall she stepped out into a small island in the middle of the water.
The beauty of the place was undeniable. Dark and creepy, yet amazing and full of mystery. The majestic organ that stood on a near wall and the elegant furniture, along with the darkness of the cave slightly lit up by the candles made the place seem even unrealistic.
But Julliette had practically grown up in that place, so it had become rather normal for her. More than normal, she'd found out she felt better being there.
He was standing by the organ, with his back upon her, but he knew she was there even before she spoke.
"Good morning Monsieur," she greeted, a bit amused because it was almost two in the morning.
"Morning, Julliette," he said, turning to see her. He had a smile on his face, product of his recent encounter with Christine.
Now, Julliette knew well that he was in love with Christine, but it still seemed a bit awkward to her. She couldn't look at her friend without thinking 'Does this mean she'll be my mom?'
She shook her head laughing and took one of the music stands under the couch.
"Did you fix the song?" he asked.
"I've just finished," she answered, setting the scores on the stand. From behind an old clock she searched the violin collection, looking for her favorite one. A light brown, polished wooden fiddle with beautiful black plugs. The fiddlestick was uptight and well conserved, though it was decades old. She took the violin and stood before the scores. She checked on the strings and tuned it up.
He'd been looking at her while she did it. She positioned the violin on her shoulder and looked at him.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Start," was all he said.
She looked at the scores. It was a duet. He'd always told her that when she had to play a song destined for more than one part, she should choose the one she liked best unless she was told otherwise. She chose the leading violin and began playing.
It was a happy tune, which had been written for a party scene. The beginning was a high note to start a beautiful and moved dancing melody. She had fixed both parts of the song, and she hoped her little extras fitted well on it. At least they'd sounded well to her.
She shook her head. He had told her that on music whatever she thought was fine was what she should play, and she shouldn't worry about anything. On a part she had already memorized she glanced quickly at him.
He was pacing from side to side. His hands behind his back and his eyes closed, with that expression that said he was carefully listening and evaluating every single touch between the fiddlestick and the strings.
The sight made her nervous and she took her eyes back to the scores. Just another page to finish the song. That was what she had been worried about. She had added almost a whole line to the ending, since she considered it very simple, but she didn't know if those notes would fit right.
Anyway, she just prayed she'd chosen the right notes and rubbed the fiddlestick against the strings to reach the high parts. She kept playing until she slid the fiddlestick down on the last note. He stayed with his eyes closed. Then, slowly, he started to open them and looked at her.
"Perfect," he muttered. Julliette smiled, pleased.
"I remember," he said, "that was a two violin song. Would you mind if I'm your accompaniment?" from a cabinet he took out his violin. It was pure black, shinny, beautiful, and the melodies it gave off sounded almost celestial. He checked on it, tuning it up and he placed next to her. She spread both scores on the stand so he could read his.
"When you please to begin," he simply said, setting the violin to play.
She turned to the scores and started playing. Next to her he followed the scores with his eyes and played when the accompaniments came. He played with such grace and skill, even those few notes, that Julliette felt the need to stop playing and sit down to listen to the sweet melodies he pulled from the instrument. But she shook her head and continued with her part.
With both violins, the melody sounded even happier and Julliette wanted to start dancing around. However, they were near to the end and they both finalized with a last fiddlestick swing. She looked at him.
"Perfect," he said, opening his eyes, since he always played with the eyes closed.
"Thank you," she answered. He put his violin back on the cabinet.
"Now, to the cello," he told her. She put her violin behind the clock and from a wall took out the cello. He handed her a score.
"Is the new song I composed," he explained. "Play it."
She put it on the stand and sat. He asked her to play many songs in many other instruments he'd taught her to play. He called it a daily practice. Piano, flute, harp, organ, cello, violin….almost every instrument created.
And not only did she know to play them, but she was pretty skilled. But she would never realize it. She always said that she was just an apprentice and that she still had much to learn from him.
"That's enough," he suddenly said, just when she ended a song in the flute.
She looked at him.
"You can go. You did wonderful as always," he smiled at her. She smiled back and put the flute on the table.
"Thank you Monsieur," she kissed his cheek. "Get some rest," she said, pointing at his bed, which had surely been abandoned for at least three days. Typical of him staying awake.
"Music calls for sleepless nights," he said. "Don't worry about me child. This body still resists the wears of a composer, but I think I'll follow your advice this time. For tomorrow night I have important things to do."
"What kind of things?" she inquired.
"You will see," he sentenced. "Come tomorrow at the same time and you will see," he looked at the ceiling, as if what he would do was really something sublime. She shook her head, smiling.
"Well, tomorrow I will see and right now you will go to sleep," she took him by the arm and made him walk up to where his bed was. She handed him his night clothes and made him sit on the bed.
"Sweet dreams….father," she whispered while closing the veil and getting away.
When she had left he smiled.
"Sweet dreams…darling."
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