Chapter Two
Many people were there to audition,
it turned out; and one by one, they each got up on-stage, recited their
credentials and sang their pieces. With
each opera-hopeful, Jenny wanted to sink into the plush upholstery of her seat
a little more; everyone had such extensive experience and training! A graduate of the French Academy of Music,
the daughter of an Italian prima donna, a student of the illustrious Bach
family; what business had she going up against them? She had no formal training other than those long-ago lessons and
had only sung solos in a small church choir.
On top of that, once again, the size
and luxury of the auditorium made her feel very small and insignificant. The gargantuan chandelier above her head
made her nervous and she glanced up at it more than once, just be sure that it
wasn't going to topple down onto her out of sheer mischief.
Before she had a chance to slip away
unnoticed, one of the managers gestured that it was her turn to get up
on-stage. Stiflingly self-conscious of
her wrinkled and dirty dress, Jenny crept the two million miles to the front of
the auditorium and somehow managed to stand center stage without tripping over
her own feet or laughing like an escaped mental patient out of terror.
"Name?"
"Jennifer Marie Black."
"An American, eh? Age?"
"Twenty."
"And young. Experience?"
"Several solos in the choir of
Saint Albert's Church in Philadelphia, including Ave Maria, Kyrie,
Angus Dei, and Dies Irae."
"Any training?"
"Um... nothing extremely
formal, sir."
"No training?" a
hostile-looking woman with hair that wasn't any shade of red normally found in
nature repeated with a raised eyebrow.
"No, madame." Jenny
shook her head, her heart catching in her throat as she recognized Carlotta,
the Opera's current star, from her pictures in the newspapers.
"An ignorant Yankee with no
training whatsoever? Honestly! Of all the stupid-" she sneered before
the other manager interrupted her.
"Now, now, Carlotta... this is
an open audition; we must expect a few of the riffraff." he placated her
with a sugary-sweet smile that made Jenny want to vomit.
"What are you going to sing for
us today, mademoiselle?" the first manager asked, genuinely
interested in Jenny and ignoring the other two.
"I should like to sing the
'Jewel Song' from Faust." Jenny replied with more confidence,
sending an angry glare in Carlotta's direction. If there was one thing that Jennifer couldn't abide by it was
rudeness regarding her nationality. As
if she held any control over her place of birth… and she was quite contented
with her American blood. One thing her
grandmother had taught her was to be proud of her mixed heritage, and not to
stand for contempt such as Carlotta's.
"An American gutter-snipe
attempting to sing a difficult aria?
This should be painful. She
probably won't even know what language to sing it in." Carlotta groaned
loud enough for all to hear.
"Excuse me, madame… but,
you are being exceedingly rude and I demand that you remain silent
during my audition, if you don't mind." Jenny seethed through
clenched teeth.
"Why, I never!" Carlotta
stood up, ready to march on-stage and thrash a certain Jennifer Marie Black.
"Carlotta, she is quite right,
although I wouldn't have said it like that.
Sit down." the first manager bellowed.
Carlotta sat, looking none too happy
and fixing Jenny with an evil glare meant to unnerve her. It didn't work.
Riffraff, indeed! Ignorant!
Guttersnipe! Why I aughta... Without hesitation, Jenny plunged into the
aria, filling the auditorium with her voice.
Although her untrained ear picked out a few minor mistakes, it was one
of the best times she'd ever sung.
Apparently anger served her well as a motivation as she cresendoed and
landed on the final note perfectly for the first time in her life. Applause swiftly followed from the employees
and fellow auditioners alike, while Carlotta sent Jenny a look that could have
reduced the girl to ashes. Jenny smiled
brilliantly, reveling in her unforeseen revenge upon the spoiled diva; perhaps
she'd even sung well enough to earn a chorus role.
****
"Liar! You said you had no training." Christine
teased her later, catching up with Jenny in the main foyer after the auditions
were finished.
"To the contrary, I said I had
no formal training and I haven't.
I've never had an actual voice lesson in my life. But my grandfather used to teach me a little
when I was younger." Jenny shrugged, modestly.
"You were fantastic!" a
little dancer who had followed Christine piped up. "And the way you handled Carlotta... you are my hero! As for the part, the management will hire
you for sure! Especially if the Phantom
heard you!"
"The what?" Jenny
asked, turning to the younger girl.
"The Phantom of the
Opera." she replied matter-of-factly.
"Now, Meg... don't go scaring
her with ghost stories. She just got
here, for Heaven's sake, and you want to chase her off with your tales."
Christine shook her head, apparently tired of the subject.
"I'm not frightened of
ghosts. Go on and tell me about this
Phantom." Jenny insisted, expecting to be regaled with a half-baked horror
story from the vivid imagination of a fifteen-year-old dancer with nothing
better to do than leap and pirouette.
"Well, he's haunted the Opera
since it opened and the managers obey his every command... they even reserve
Box Five for him and pay him a salary of 20,000 francs a month." Meg
continued gleefully.
"20,000 francs a month? Good God, does he wear satin sheets or
something? That's more than I could
make in an entire year, let alone one month!" Jenny's eyes widened in
disbelief.
"Of course not, he wears dress
clothes, a long black cloak, a black hat, and a white mask. They say that he's death incarnate under
that mask and that anyone who sees him... dies." Meg said quietly, as if
afraid that the Phantom himself was listening to their every word.
"How, do you know that?"
Jenny scoffed, shaking her head at Meg's childish credulity.
"Because Joseph Buquet saw
him... and he was killed last month." Meg said darkly.
"Say that again?" Jenny
asked, chastened, her green eyes going wide.
"You mean that this ghost has actually been seen and has murdered
someone?"
Both Christine and Meg nodded and
Jenny felt a shiver of fear run up her spine.
"Enough
of this morbid talk." Christine insisted.
"It's time for supper. Are
you coming with us, Jennifer?"
"I would, but I haven't any
money." Jenny sighed.
"Don't worry, my treat."
Christine smiled.
"Oh, I couldn't-"
"You can and will." a
jovial male voice insisted. "How
else am I going to be seen about town with three beautiful, young ladies?"
"Raoul!" Christine laughed
in surprise, heading over to the young nobleman happily and letting him take
her hand for a brief kiss.
"Hello, my sweet." he
replied affectionately, after releasing her.
"Are you going to introduce me to your new friend?"
"Yes. Jennifer, this is my suitor, Raoul Vicomte de Changy. Raoul, this Jennifer Marie Black, she
auditioned for chorus today." Christine obliged.
"Enchanted, mademoiselle."
Raoul raised Jenny's hand to his lips in civility.
"Pleasure's
mine, monsieur le Vicomte." Jenny nodded, on guard despite Raoul's politeness. Previous experience had taught her to
suspect that all men were cruel in some way, more often in words than
acts. Only her father and her
grandfathers had ever treated her kindly, so it was very rare when a man showed
her civility. However, her open heart
believed this young man to be trustworthy and sincere. Perhaps if he was truly genuine, others were
as well.
At that moment, Jenny felt a
prickling at the back of her mind and she turned around nervously, searching
the shadows. Someone was hiding from
sight and watching her, she knew it,
Strangely enough, the presence was not malevolent or foreboding in the
least… more curious and almost protective.
She shook her head, such fanciful notions were child's play and she had
more important things to worry about.
****
He watched with interest, his gaze
taken from the sight of his dearest love only momentarily by the new young
women. All of his attention was focused
on the lovely Christine, his cherished student and his only joy in life.
His gaze iced over when he turned
his attention to the vicomte, narrowing with hatred; if he'd been a
predatory cat, a low growl would've issued from his throat, audible only to
himself. The young fop had been
pursuing Christine far too seriously for his peace of mind. One would think that the vicomte's
family would've put a quick stop to any liaison with a chorus girl from the
Opera. However, given that no parents
lived to point out his family duties, leaving only an older brother to
baby-sit... the situation could easily become quite explosive.
"Have you any place in mind for
supper, monsieur Le Vicomte?" he heard Meg ask, her senses unaware
of any presence besides those she conversed with openly.
"Would the Rose Noire
please you ladies?" the smiling vicomte suggested.
"It would." Christine
replied with an equally brilliant smile that made his heart twist with abject
admiration. He watched jealously as the
nobleman took his beloved's small hand and led her towards the exit, with Meg
and that new child following after.
Hmmm... perhaps he would be
wise to trail the quartet on their excursion to the Rose Noire
restaurant, if only to keep an attentive eye on his rival. With a swirl of his cloak, he was gone,
striding out of the Opera undetected and as silent as a cat stalking its
prey. Spying on these four wouldn't be
a difficult task for him, he was supposed to be a ghost after all...