"You are, Music Itself." (x yn)

Chapter 8

You went inside, Roaul greeting you at the door.

"Will you sing?"
He asked, already leading you to the stage through the crowed of drunken party-goers.

"Yes." It was only one word that could make your only chance of joining the Opera disappear. One mistake and the career that hadn't even started yet, would be over.

The crowd talked amongst themselves, not paying any mind to a new singer.

The music started, so you sang. Softly at first, then with the more people who turned their head, the confidence grew.

Soon enough you had the whole bistro entranced in your performance. Which may have been a bad thing for only one person, Carlotta.

It was quiet, except for the musicians and yourself.

Though you could not see it, The maestro was listening from outside. Physically loosing the balance in his body; taken aback by the voice that he had worked so hard to perfect, what was already damn well near perfection.

You did not know of his love, his obsession for you -yet.

Then came a sound like a dying rat or some other foul rodent, Carlotta.

She had managed to slither her way up onto stage like the snake she is. But you were, better than her in almost every way, except the money. But money does not define one's overall status in these types of situations.
It is the personality.

So you out-sing her. Every time she went louder and "pitchy-er," you simply sung the correct notes and words. Carlotta likes to do things her own way, most of the time they turned out worse.

Eventually and reluctantly she stormed off stage. Fanning quite aggressively once she had returned to her seat.

***

The Count lead you outside by the hand babbling on about how well you did. He gestured for a horse and carriage to pick the two of you up, "come with me. I want to show you a special place of mine."

Oh god no. You already know what would happen when you reached this special place. And you did not wish to participate in nature of that kind with him, someone else had already filled the slot.

"Oh, Roaul. Thank you, for the invitation but I really do have to be getting back. Maybe another time?" You smiled weakly.

"Uh, yes- yes of course, Y/N." He returned the smile, stifling back a few questions that one would consider rude.

***

"Thank you for the escort, Roaul."

"Always." He did not say another word as he drove off. Unfortunately, the grown up man tantrum would have to wait till later.

You planned to return the Maestro's dress and head piece, so you ran down to the cellar to change into different attire, eager to tell him about the happenings of the night.

"Maestro! You yelled out, "it was wonderful! I sang and I over heard-"

"Y/N."

You turned, to see the bitch herself, Carlotta.
"Madame." Curtseying to your employer.

"Don't be frightened. I simply had to see you. You were so," pausing to find polite words, "fantastic tonight."

Surprised, she had used genuine manners- probably for the first time in her life. "Oh, thank you."

"So fantastic that I could not sleep. All I could do was think about you."

You laughed nervously.

" Ah so, this is where you've been living?"
She pranced about picking up used candles and small mirrors.

"Yes, it's temporary."

"My dear, there's something I can't quite understand."

"Yes?"

"Where you learned to sing so well..?"

You widened your eyes, the one question you could not answer she asked. She followed as you shuffled off, avoiding the question.