Of Masks And Roses

First Day

"Ah, Madame Giry!" cried a man as the two of us neared him, "So good to see you! I hope that the ballet rats are behaving, yes?"

We had ventured from the managers office to the backstage at Monsieur Lefevre's instructions, telling us to go and find the stage manager who would give me a station and someone to teach me the ropes. Madame Giry and I passed giant, plaster statues of lions, Acrobats dressed in their performance outfits, and even a couple of ballerinas who were battling over a bottle of beer with the cavaliers. The moment they saw Madame Giry approaching them they had scurried away to practice, leaving the cavaliers laughing and Madame Giry and I to wander further until we had found who we were looking for.

He was a scruff, but lean man who's hair was beginning to turn grey, yet wore a curling, black goatee with pride. He was dressed quite nicely for someone working in the catwalks of an Opera House, wearing a white shirt, black slacks, and a brown cap rested upon his head. His leather shoes were perhaps the only thing on him that was a mess. They were well worn and covered in drops of paint, showing me that despite the fact that this man was clean and proper, he was a hard worker to boot, literally.

Madame Giry smiled slightly as we stood in front of him, "As well as your set crew, I assure you, Monsieur Bayard." she answered, tapping her cane on the floor in front of her.

Monsieur Bayard laughed, a boisterous and loud guffaw that echoed around the stage and would have put Ghibli to shame, causing a small smile to ghost on my face as well.

He placed his hands onto his hips, looking at Madame Giry with his undivided attention, "So what brings you to me, hm? Aren't you supposed to be preparing your ballet rats for rehearsal?"

"I am here to deliver some news from Monsieur Lefevre. You have a new stagehand, Monsieur."

Monsieur Bayard grinned, "Why, that's just fantastic!" he exclaimed, then took a glance around us, "Where is he?"

Madame Giry smiled politely and nodded at me, "She's right here, Monsieur." Bayard glanced over at me with wide eyes, but a smile still plastered on his face. He looked at me up and down, then back over to Giry.

"A woman, you say?" he asked, then looked at me again, "Working as a stagehand? I've never heard of such a thing." there was a pregnant pause, then he reached over and shook my hand, "Well, it's nice to meet ya!" he greeted, "Forgive me for ignoring you there. I thought you were a ballerina with Madame Giry. The name's Francois Bayard, but you can just call me Bayard. I hate the name Francois. Makes me sound like a sissy."

I grinned, "My name is Scarlet Moore, and there is nothing wrong with being a sissy, sir."

Monsieur Bayard laughed again and dropped my hand, "Touche, Mademoiselle, touche!"

Madame Giry turned to me, "I must leave you now," she spoke, "But if there are any problems I'll only be nearby. Good luck, my dear."

I nodded, "Thanks, Madame Giry, for all the help you have given me." She nodded as well, then turned away, disappearing into the crowd bustling around us.

"So, what made you want to be a stagehand, Mademoiselle?" asked Bayard.

I shrugged, "Can't sing. Can't dance. But I can work as hard as any man, I'm sure of that."

Bayard nodded, "I understand, I can't sing either. Well then," he continued, clapping his hands together, "Let's get you started, shall we? I'll have you working up on the catwalk. I'm working on the stage, myself, so I won't be able to help you much. But I am sure there is someone around who can teach you what to do." he then turned away, glancing around, then looked up into the rafters, "Aha!" he exclaimed, "Oi! Simon!"