Everything and Nothing
By: Songwind
Disclaimer- I don't own Phantom of the Opera. I'm sure you're shocked by this outrageous statement, but it's true.
Summary- (ALW Movie) Erik discovers a little brat named Christine Daae who refuses to believe that the Phantom of the Opera exists, despite Meg's insistence. He plans to give her a bit of a scare, but his plans change when he discovers that all she wants is some company… Just to warn you, the fuzzy levels will get high in here. Hope you all enjoy. Oh, and this is from Erik's point of view for the most part.
Chapter One: Insolent Little Brat…
My first impression of young Mademoiselle Daae was not a particularly good one, though it did amuse me to no end. The day had been a slow one; the Opera Populaire was enjoying a break between productions, however brief, and my managers were too busy indulging themselves to worry about their resident ghost.
I nearly ran into her and little Giry on my way out of my Box, where I'd left my box-keeper some sweets to ensure her continued good service. I'd decided on a whim to take a peek at the ballet rehearsals, and found a small group of future dancers and singers.
"Does not!" a young voice insisted, making me jump. The voice was completely unfamiliar to me.
"Does too!" a second said. This one was slightly higher in pitch, and had a touch of a whine somewhere within. I couldn't help but smirk; this was definitely little Giry.
Curiously, I peered down from the rafters to inspect the group of young girls.
Apparently, the group (no more than seven) were on their way to the dormitories, but had stopped to have this riveting debate.
"Does not!"
"Does too!" Meg Giry said. "He does too!"
He?
"Ghosts don't exist," the unfamiliar girl said quietly, frowning.
Ah, that would explain the argument. I examined the unfamiliar youngling for a moment, doing my best to ignore a short continuation of "Does not! Does too!"
The girl was small to begin with, but was also thin enough to rival my own lack of substance. Her eyes were sunken slightly into her face, giving her a sullen expression. Right now, she was busying herself by sticking her tongue out at little Giry.
I rolled my eyes and started to move on- it didn't look like they were going to get anywhere with this conversation- when little Giry blurted, "If ghosts don't exist, then neither does your stupid Angel!"
A couple of the other girls looked curious at this statement. Little Giry looked particularly pleased with herself.
The sullen little girl looked stricken, as though someone had just dumped ice cold water all over her person. She stood there, her little fists clenching and unclenching for a few moments as she stared at little Giry incredulously.
Then she started to sniffle.
Little Giry suddenly looked a lot less pleased with herself. "Look, I didn't mean-" she began.
Too late.
The unfamiliar girl proceeded not to whimper, not to weep, not to cry. Oh, no. That wouldn't direct the proper amount of attention to those lungs.
With me hovering about ten feet above her, she began to scream.
The other little girls looked embarrassed at this display, though their eyes continued to be wide-eyed and curious. I clapped my hands over my ears, wincing and mentally cursing at my sensitive hearing. One youngling moved towards little Giry- possibly to ask what on earth she had meant by that "Angel" comment. However, all possibility of an explanation at this time ceased when Madame Giry appeared.
Thank God, I thought. I wasn't very religious, but I had no urge to listen to a girl scream her heart out for the next few hours.
"What is going on here!" the Madame demanded, taking in the situation with a glance.
"Mama-" little Giry began.
"He does too!" the unfamiliar girl wailed. "Father said he did! He does too!"
I blinked.
A few of the other girls shared my sentiment.
Madame Giry pulled out a cloth and knelt down to wipe at the girl's face, trying to stop the tears. She shot little Giry a look that one associates with a mother preparing to scold one's child. Then she said, "Of course he does, Mademoiselle Daae. Meg, take the others to the dormitories. I will deal with you later."
"But Mama, she started it-"
"Now, Meg."
As young as I was when I left my mother, I could remember that tone as clearly as though my mother had just spoken to me in that tone. So I completely understood when young Meg Giry fled with her entourage in tow. However annoying it was that I had yet to have an explanation about why references to an Angel made this girl start interfering with my box-keeper's work in my Opera House.
I considered moving on now, but the "fun" had yet to begin.
"What is all of this racket!" a woman's voice screeched down the hallway.
Madame Giry and I looked up to see who it was, while Mademoiselle Daae continued to sniffle tearfully. Lord, how I hated that sound!
But the woman I saw approaching was definitely someone I abhorred far more than any child's tears.
"Madame Blanche," my box-keeper greeted quietly.
"Can you not keep your little brat from screeching while I am rehearsing!" said woman demanded. "I cannot concentrate on my scales when there is this unholy screeching in the halls!"
I gritted my teeth, and Madame Giry visibly suppressed a flash of annoyance. Mademoiselle Daae ignored everything but the little cloth Madame Giry had been using on her face, twisting it about in her hands and continuing to sniffle.
"Madame, I apologize but this should not be bothering you if you were rehearsing in your rooms," Madame Giry said coolly.
"Oh, so now I am required to stay shut away from the world unless I am performing? I cannot walk the halls like any other?" Blanche said. "Kindly remember that the Opera House does not belong to the box-keepers and their… children. This Opera House belongs to its performers."
"This Opera House belongs to everyone who makes a contribution to its staying well-kept," Madame Giry said. Her voice was now as ice.
I couldn't blame her, personally. This was my Opera House, if anyone's. And no matter how good a voice this woman had, no leading soprano had the right to claim something that was indisputably mine.
"This Opera House survives because of me," Blanche insisted. "And you'd best hope that I do not speak to the managers of your behavior towards me. Keep your child in line, Madame box-keeper." She bent over to inspect Mademoiselle Daae more closely, disgust etched across her delicate features. "Children should be seen, not heard. Though by this one's look she shouldn't be seen, either."
Mademoiselle Daae sniffled, looked up into that leering face-
and let loose the loudest sneeze I've ever heard.
"Ugh!" Madame Blanche jerked back, raising a hand as though to hit the little girl.
Madame Giry's look, however, stopped her. "Touch her, Madame Blanche, and it will be you who will be hearing from the managers," she said.
Madame Blanche pulled down her hand, glaring. "Very well. Disgusting little… Your brat will pay for her insolence, Madame box-keeper."
"If you're planning to threaten me or my charges, then address me with my name, Madame," my box-keeper said.
Madame Blanche ignored her, hurrying down the hallway towards the nearest washroom with all the dignity she had left- which, I thought gleefully, wasn't all that much.
Madame Giry watched the woman leave, then took the little cloth back and continued to wipe the girl's face off. "Mademoiselle Daae, that was not a very bright thing to do," she scolded. "It is not a good idea to anger the diva."
"I couldn't help it," the girl said quietly. She sniffled once more.
Madame Giry sighed, and stood, taking the girl's hand in her own. "Now. I have a box to clean, and you have practice to go to. We shall walk to your rooms with the girls. On the way, you will tell me what happened, yes?"
Reluctantly, the little girl nodded.
And despite my earlier wish to leave things in the capable hands of my box-keeper, I followed them.
After all, I wanted to see what on earth made her so upset.
And I had the greatest urge to thank her, somehow, for briefly putting our star soprano in her place.
A quick notice- if you listen carefully in the beginning of the movie, La Carlotta has only been their leading soprano for the past FIVE SEASONS. Therefore, there must have been at least one other diva during Christine's time in the Opera Populaire. Worry not, however- Carlotta will show up eventually.
Please let me know what you think. Suggestions for improvement will be appreciated. Compliments are always welcome, of course. And flames... well, Erik does need some food cooked. Grins Until next time, everyone.