Title : Voices In the Dark
Chapter : Chapter Four
Author : Marie Noire
Summary : Christine auditions
Rating : As of right now, PG… but will likely take a turn into R later.
Raoul’s plan, outrageous though it was, actually worked. He managed to find decent clothing and pass himself off as a young aristocrat. If anyone had doubts about his identity, he simply flashed his ring. The tailor believed him, the restaurant maitre-de believed him, the hatter and shoemaker believed him… and most importantly, the Opera managers believed him.
“We are most appreciative of your great family’s support in our endeavors.” Firmin, the bespectacled one, said broadly. “And we’ll be happy to assist your interests in whatever way you deem we can.”
“Splendid.” Raoul replied, trying to keep from laughing out loud at their blatant sycophancy. “I understand that Aida is the opera you’ve chosen to open the season with?”
“Yes, yes.” Andre, the more diminutive one nodded, his ever-nervous fingers arranging and rearranging the papers on his desk. Raoul, within a few minutes of meeting the man, had decided that the fellow was a rather rampant OCD case and needed one hell of a sedative. “Aida, yes… Carlotta will play the title role, of course. And our visiting tenor, Senor Placido will be Radames. We have yet to cast Amneris and the rest of the cast.” He said, looking pointedly at his partner.
Raoul smiled; at least Aida was an opera he knew. “Then, by all means, you should hold auditions. I’d even go so far as to suggest hiring some new talent. Outside talent.”
“Does the vicomte have someone in mind?” Firmin raised an eyebrow. The man was quite good at reading between the lines, Raoul had noticed.
“Possibly.” Raoul shrugged. “Two young ladies I know of… no, not *those* kinds of ladies.” He frowned at Andre’s startled expression, swiftly followed by the man knocking over a stoppered bottle of ink. “Childhood friends. One is a dancer whose style, I believe, will be well received by the public. The other is a singer. Soprano… wonderful voice.”
“Ah… well, send these young ladies around to us and we’ll see what we can do, monsieur le vicomte.” Firmin smiled at Raoul, though his knowing smile let on that no matter what the young man said, he would not be convinced of anything less than illicit affairs with the two women in question. However, at least he knew that Christine and Meg would be hired without a hitch.
Within minutes, he was back outside of the Opera, all but being accosted in the snow by Meg and dragged around a corner.
“Well? Did it work?” Meg demanded, grasping Raoul by his shirt when they were out of sight.
“You don’t see any gendarmes coming down the street, do you? Yes, it worked. People are amazingly gullible in this time.” He mused. “I think I talked them into open auditions… all you have to do is waltz in there and tell them I sent you.”
“This still feels wrong.” Christine sighed. “We’re going to be in an opera company and we won’t even know if they hired us for talent or because of Raoul.”
“Oh, Chris, don’t worry. You know you’re good… you sang in Les Miz for a whole year, for Christ’s sake. What more proof do you need?” Meg asked.
“A million a year and people clamoring for my autograph.” Chris smiled.
“You’ve been to too many concerts and Lord of the Rings conventions.” Meg sighed, shooting Raoul a dirty look.
“Hey, I only made her go to *one* LOTR con.”
“Yeah, that *huge* one in Germany.”
“It’s culture!”
“Watching people dress up in cloaks and Vulcan ears is culture in your book?”
“*Elf* ears and yes.”
“Oy, knock it off, you two.” Christine swatted at them both. “We have work to do. Meg, we have to get ready for the audition. Guaranteed or not, let’s not embarrass ourselves. Raoul, you need to find lodgings for all of us.”
“How do I do that?” Raoul asked. “You think a hotel will buy this vicomte crap too? What the hell *is* a vicomte anyway?”
“A viscount. And it’s worked so far. Go get yourself some fancy-shmancy room and a moderate one for us.” Christine nodded.
“How come he gets fancy-shmancy and we don’t?” Meg grumbled.
“Because we can’t pass for princesses.”
“Says who?”
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Erik prowled about the catwalks high above the stage, watching the process of auditions below. Open auditions were a rare occurrence, but he was glad for it. With such an invitation, the angel he’d seen earlier was certain to be here.
Amneris was, he thought, a worthy role to practice with, but he would make sure that by opening night, Christine would play Aida. How much more appropriate could such a role be? A young princess choosing to be buried alive with her disgraced lover rather than live without him. In a way, both literal and metaphorical, he too was entombed for all time. Cursed to shadows and darkness, forever hiding from the eyes of mankind like a rat. Somewhere in his twisted logic, he hoped that perhaps playing Aida would influence Christine. Ah, he might not be a handsome Egyptian captain like Radames… but surely she could not overlook his brilliance as a musician… or the lure of his voice.
She was a singer. A singer had to notice another singer… appreciate another voice. He’d hypnotized many a weak-willed man before and would, no doubt, do so again. But where Christine was concerned, he did not want to use his voice in that way. He wanted her to hear only the beauty, the sweetness. Oh, how he could sing for her! He would sing like a nightingale!
Impatient after just two hopefuls, he left the catwalks and headed for Box Five, safely secreted in side the walls. From his box, he could see the stage properly. Two more auditions and then…
There she was!
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Christine consciously forced herself to stop shaking as she took the stage. She despised auditions, even guaranteed ones. Taking a deep breath, she smiled shyly at the managers.
“Afternoon, mam’selle.” Firmin greeted her. “Might we have your name, please?”
“Christine Daae, monsieur.” She replied before plunging into the traditional vital statistics. “Twenty-one years old. Studied in London with the Royal Opera and have performed in a few non-operatic productions-“
“Yes, yes.” Andre interrupted, apparently eager to get this underway. “What are you going to sing today, mam’selle?”
“I have a piece by Charles Gonoud… Faites-Lui Mes Aveux from his opera, Faust.” She replied. Meg had tried to convince her to go all out and sing Le Chanson Des Bijoux, but Christine knew she was not yet comfortable on the higher notes… not for an audition. Faites-Lui was sweet and flowing…and it suited her style nicely.
The pianist played the opening bars and Christine briefly closed her eyes before singing. The acoustics of the horseshoe auditorium made her voice fill the space effortlessly. She smiled, pleased with the sound… even to her own ears, she sounded warm and bright.
The managers seemed surprised; Andre had actually stopped fidgeting and Firmin’s pen had frozen on the page. When she finished, it was Andre who spoke first.
“Very, very good, mam’selle. Um… how did you say you heard about auditions?”
“Oh… the Vicomte de Chagny told me to come here.” She said, her smile fading only a little. Whatever was said, she did not like having another person’s influence gaining her a part… but still, it certainly looked like she would have gotten the part either way.
“Excellent!” Firmin exclaimed, apparently delighted that the vicomte’s girls were talented. “No need to make you wait for the official announcement, my dear. You are most assuredly in the cast.”
Christine grinned widely. “Thank you, messieurs.”
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Up in Box Five, Erik blinked away the near-trance that had held him while she sang. They had hired her on the spot? That never happened! He hadn’t even gotten the chance to send them *his* thoughts! Since when did Firmin and Andre have any taste in music, he grumbled to himself. Granted, the child was good enough that even a complete moron could hear her talent… but he did not appreciate being robbed of opportunity.
On to Chapter Five
To Be Continued...