"After your father, the famous violin player, passed on- you were left with only one option to make a living.
To work at the Opera De Populair, under Madame Carlotta.
Living in the basement of the Opera, one night while singing in what you thought...
Carlotta was being her usual diva self, fanning with one hand and holding onto her husband's with the other.
You sat by her side for part of the night, but it was all mostly a haze. Wanting to go visit the maestro was all you had on your mind, and you were all he had on his.
***
He shut the pianos cover without a word, intertwining his fingers, and stared at you. Not saying a word, wanting to make you guess.
"Have I don't something wrong?" Worriedly you fix the slouched posture and clasp your own hands.
The maestro does not respond, wrong guess.
"My voice does not please you." Shoulders sunk, you look down at the floor in disgust.
Not at him, but at yourself. How could you have not been doing your best? You've been training with him for months and yet you are still not good enough.
"Please me? Ha!" He finds amusement in this. "Ever since I was a child you are what I've been hearing in my dreams."
Standing up he walked a bit farther away from the piano, fixing the white ruffled cuffs poking out from his jacket.
"I mean you're ready, I cannot teach you anymore."
"Ready for what?" Unclasping your hands, letting the blood flow through white knuckles.
"To audition for the company!" "Oh well they're not holding auditions anymore."
"You're not going to audition the usual way. Madame Carlotta wouldn't allow it." The gravel in his tone reminded you of how he despised her, as if everyone else did not.
"She would be to much jealous of your voice- and don't worry I know what I'm doing. Just be patient."
He waltzed over to the mirror looking at the tan mask, not daring to imagine the face that it held at bay.
"Maestro?" He simply glared at you through the mirrors reflection.
"There is one thing you have not told me, where do you live?"
He thought, "when you sing I live in the heavens. When you do not, down below."
You approached him, more or less an impulsive decision. "How will I ever repay you for this?" You placed a hand on his shoulder. Father told you it was always best to look someone in the eyes to express one's gratitude towards them.
The maestro froze, it seemed. His mouth slightly opened, and looked at your eyes not being able to focus on either; then your hand.
You removed it. "I, I apologize Maestro." You darted out of the room. The first night he met you, he specifically stated he didn't even want to come near you. Now you had touched him.
"Y/N?"
"Maestro.?" Turning to face him, he had not moved.
"It's alright, just caught me off-guard is all." "Oh alright. Goodnight." "Goodnight."
Whilst you hurried down the stairs to your own room to retire for the night, he returned to the mirror, sight fixated on his shoulder. The creases of your touch remained still.
Though he wished he could frame the cloth, he had to retire down to the dungeons in which he was chained too.
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***
"Y/N!"
You stopped your laundry cart from rolling further down the hall and turned, Roaul. It had been months since you'd seen this sorry excuse of a man, but you do not need him anymore. He had his ladies and you had your Maestro.
"It is you." He said, smiling. "I swear I- I did not intend for you to be doing this."
"It's alright monsieur, I'm honored just being here." You tried to go back to the cart, but the count stepped in front of it.
"No, I mean, you should be having singing lessons. That's what I promised you, you have a wonderful voice." The Counts ladies laughed as they stood behind you in a doorway.
"I know about these things, I- I come to the opera all the time."
The girls said again, something you did not wish to hear. The Count heard, and said "because I am so happy to be back with all of you, I'm going to throw a party tonight for the entire company!"
The girls cheered, you made sure you hair was still in order and walk off. "Y/N?"
What could he want now?
"Will you come with me?" You turned. "As my special guest?" Special guest shit.
