Hopeful Soul: A Phantom Story

Chapter Two.

CHRISTINE:

Yet another gloomy day for me and my friend Meg. Sadly, we were late to practice and endured the punishment of humiliation. Any time anyone was late to a practice, Madame Giry would have them work with Buquet for exactly fifteen minutes while staying en pointe. Being en pointe was difficult for me, but that applied to any ballet work. Meg, however, was perfect - as with any ballet. She had the perfect feet and proportions while I began my transition to womanhood.

After our work with Buquet was done, Madame let us rest for a moment before dragging us into routine. I turned to my blonde friend and she smiled brightly at me, stretching her feet out. Madame gave a soft smile at her daughter, then nodded at me. Today was my sixteenth birthday and most of it would be spent dancing. However, I looked forward to my lessons with the angel of music. I didn't know what it was, but the voice made me feel so powerless. The sound of it made me want to surrender and give in to temptation. I never wanted it to end. That voice was captivating and I could listen all day, "Christine!"

Madame touched my arm with her cool fingertips and I nodded, "Oh, you dreamer. Come. It's time to start rehearsal."

At this time, we were allowed to rehearse with orchestra. The chamber usually stayed with the singers, but we were lucky enough to earn their time. I loved the soothing melodies of flutes and violins, who usually played together. The cellos made me feel warm inside, as we danced to their steady rhythms. I would always find myself listening to the lovely music instead of actually following Madame. Today she was lenient about my mistakes because it was my birthday, but she still made a face of disappointment.

She tapped her black walking stick on the ground and all the girls ran up and knelt in front of her. I knelt beside Meg and Madame smiled softly at us, "Well, there is a birthday this evening. And that means everyone's let out early," a great sigh came from us all until Madame hushed us, "But first, wish a happy birthday to Christine."

Every girl bowed to me as they went into the dormitories. Madame Giry went into her office, which was the door just beside the dormitories, and Meg stayed by my side, her face lit with joy, "Happy birthday, Christine."

"Thank you."

"Christine!"

Madame called for me and I slightly panicked - would this be terrible? Was she going to cancel my status with the ballet? If so, where would I go? It was all very frightening, "Yes, Madame."

Madame Giry gazed over parchment that was scrawled over in red. Never had I seen a letter written in red, but I heard of it. The Phantom of the opera was said to write in an elegant, red scrawl and this... matched. I took a step back in complete shock. The ghost, the phantom was real, "How do you feel about joining the chorus, Christine?.. Permanently."

Joining the chorus would mean background vocals, but my voice wasn't yet trained. The angel of music barely begun with me, "Madame, I can barely-"

"Christine," she held up her hand and I silenced as she came closer to me, "I know of your angel. And as much as I hate to put fuel to fire, the ghost knows. He believes that you are enough to replace our soprano, who's voice, in all honesty, is going sour."

"Replace la Carlotta? I," I felt my stomach twist in knots at the hand of this phantom. I thought he was make-believe and I was sure of it until now. The stories frightened me to no end, "I can't. She would be angry. And Messieurs Debienne and Poligny-"

"Debienne and Poligny just want the money, Christine. They're businessmen. They don't care who's on the stage as long as they have their keep."

I knew it was their jobs to invest in opera, but as far as I was concerned I was not good enough to earn the opera any money. Madame seemed to know what I was thinking and gently patted my shoulder, "You'll only be in chorus, Christine. And perhaps later you can be the lead. I'm sure you'll host enough of an audience. The people love a pretty face and a soft soprano."

Madame gazed at me as if she was trying to put every negative thought in my mind to rest. I didn't know how to feel about this. I nodded in response to the choral proposal and showed myself quickly out of her office. I hoped the rest of my birthday would be spent stress free.

ERIK:

I looked down lovingly at my protégé. She stood around helplessly after leaving Giry's office and I took that time just to admire her. It was saddening to know that after a month of my training and with the exquisite instrument her voice was becoming that she still doubted herself - and that was just for the lousy chorus. With a few more years, she could probably sound as seraphic as me. That knowledge made me quiver with excitement.

Now that I actually focused to her, she stood shakily beside her blonde friend and Ayesha, who appeared from her tunnel, rubbed up against my leg for my attention. With a great sigh, I heaved her into my arms to begin stroking her head. While she purred in contentment, I gazed down again at Christine and her friend. They sat beside the box of chalk, talking away as I focused only on Christine. She fiddled with a ringlet on the right of her head that came out of its tight ballerina bun.

Ayesha seemed to realize my attention leaving her and drifting to Christine. She let out a high-pitched defensive sound and hopped out of my arms. I looked down to my protégé, who's friend had left her, and she gazed up at the catwalk. I knew she wouldn't be able to see me because of how well I could cloak myself in the shadows, but it was almost like she made eye contact. For a moment, I lost myself in her warm, doughy eyes. All of the pain that resided within my soul was lifted - what a magical girl!

Her beauty stuck out to me. She was appealing in an innocent and wholesome way, which was quite odd for a girl of her age around here. Unlike her prostituting peers, she presented herself modestly and her friend, Giry's young girl, seemed to look up to her. Christine was perfection... Madame was completely right.

I listened happily as she, under her breath, hummed a tune that we had been rehearsing for most of our time together. I indulged in her song and savored my triumph. Then, the more I looked to her, the more my heart became warm. I didn't understand this feeling. I had never felt so good before. The only time I would ever feel warm in the chest was waking from a nightmare. It couldn't be that this girl was a nightmare... more like a dream.

I knew her father had died. I knew her best friend was little Meg Giry and that Madame was like a mother to her. But that wasn't enough. I had to know more about her. I had to know who she truly was.