Belle Vie

Christmas Mourning

Celeste would awake, on Christmas morning, alone. This time, however, accompanied by a terrible headache. As often her Christmases were, she would dress for the festivities in a velvety, red dress that her mother had constructed. The snow from the night prior clouded the sky in its entirety, a winter wonderland befalling the city of New Orleans.

Children were sledding in the streets, laughter echoing through her balcony windows as she took her wrapped gift from the nightstand and made way for the streets; a brisk, ten minute walk to the theatre. Creatures of habit, the performers would spend every Christmas together, exchanging secret Santa gifts, on their empty stage.

"Good morning, Miss Toussaint," The doorman, Mr Fielding; a kind, middle-aged man with a daughter the same age as Celeste, allowed the girl entrance. She accepted with a gracious smile and brief hug, "Merry Christmas, Mr Fielding. Please, feel free to join us if it gets too cold out here."

The man responded with a dismissive shake of his head, "Nothing I'm not used to, Miss. Merry Christmas."

As Celeste ventured through the stands where the audience had sat the night prior, she quickly realised something was very wrong; as opposed to the usual laughter from her fellow performers, silence befell the group as they sat on the stage with sadness in their eyes.

"Charles?" She called the stage manager, whom sprung from his seat with relief in his eyes, the group flocking towards her, "Oh, Celeste. Thank goodness you're alright. We feared you might have been with Andrew, last night,"

"What do you mean? Where is Andrew?" She asked, searching the group for the man that had played Romeo, the night before. Jeanette, the cast member that played Lady Capulet, stepped forth, "His body was discovered in the night; passed out drunk in the street and froze to death."

A gasp escaped the girl, her heart plummeting at the very notion. Andrew. Dead. Though, she was not particularly fond of his performance, the evening before, she did not detest the boy enough as to wish him dead.

Edwin, the cast member portraying Friar Lawrence, stepped forth with a bottle of liquor in his free hand, "I know it's early, but I think we should make a toast. To Andrew! He was a terrible actor and a bugger to work with...But we'll miss him." The man took a swig from the bottle, before passing it onto the next person. Silence befell the auditorium, not a soul wishing to break it with the question that lingered on all their thoughts.

What would happen regarding the play? Their jobs?

Fortunately, Christmas was the single day they would take off, giving them a small amount of time to decipher their next move.

"Romeo has no understudy," Charles finally cut through the silence like a knife, his eyes regretful at the very notion; the show must well and truly go on. "We do not have the capacity nor talent to replace him. I fear, we may need to cut our tour short, this year-"

"-I may have an idea," Celeste was swift to cut his proposal short, but to the man's momentary surprise. "Well, share it with us, child." Celeste Toussaint was not a child. In her own eyes, at least. But she put her slight agitation at this aside, "Give me one day, Charles. But do not cancel the show. I will bring you your Romeo."

The man appeared displeased at her vagueness, but nodded in agreement, nonetheless. What other choice did he have? "Very well. But remember, the responsibility shall fall onto your hands, should you disappoint me." Celeste knew his words to be a threat to her career as a stage performer. With a swift nod, she tossed her gift to Jeanette, grasped her coat and exited the theatre onto the cold, New Orleans streets.

Whilst Celeste sought the very man that had shared his affinity for theatre, the night before, the Vampire Lestat slept. But in his stupor between consciousness and dreams, he caught his name being echoed in Celeste's mind. His dazzling orbs shot open, an intangible force pulling the human closer to his abode on Royal Street.