Echoes in the velvet seats

3. The Visit to the Theater pt. 1

The Visit to the Theater pt. 1

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The next day, a Sunday, she wakes up early in the morning, not nearly rested enough. She gets up the bed and washes her face, then adjusts her curly hair in a bun and puts on a light summer dress. 

Last night, a little after her exploration in the attic, she sneaked in her parent's room while they were sleeping, looking for a map of the city. She found it on Gerard's desk, buried onder the piles of books and documents. 

Now it was in her hands as she studied it carefully, searching for the quickest way to the theater. She traced with a pencil the path she choose on the map and puts on her shoes, ready to sneak for the first time out of her house.

To reach the theatre, she had to navigate through the bustling alleys and crowded streets teeming with people from the Sunday market. After weaving her way through the throng, she finally stood before the grand entrance of the Royal Theatre.

The building looms before her, its ornate façade covered in ivy and chipped paint. Numerous playbills were displayed on the entrance, some older than the rest. On the doors there was a signs reading "Rehersal in progress".

Taking a deep breath, she steps forward, pushing open the heavy doors. The interior is dimly lit with candles, as the window curtains were closed so that hardly any light could shine trough. The air was thick with dust and the scent of old wood and velvet. She pauses, her eyes adjusting to the low light as she takes in the grand foyer, picking the folds of her white, lacey dress to climb its sweeping staircase. She couldn't help but stare at the grand chandelier hanging precariously from the ceiling with a multitude of candles lighting it up, whose flame was reflected on the delicate hanging crystals.

As she walks further into the theater, the sound of voices and footsteps echoes through the space.  She follows the noise, feeling both excited and nervous, her curiosity driving her forward. The theater seems alive in a way she hadn't expected, not just a relic of the past, but a place where people still gathered, worked, and dreamed.

Edith steps into the main concert hall, where a group of opera singers is rehearsing on stage. Their voices fill the air, reciting lines with passion and energy. The stage is illuminated by harsh, bright lights, casting dramatic shadows across the worn velvet seats.

The actors are too engrossed in their performance to notice her, but Edith is captivated. She watches as they move across the stage, their expressions intense, their movements precise. For a moment, she forgets why she came here, lost in the magic of the opera.

But then, a chill runs down her spine. She feels the weight of a gaze on her, a presence that's not part of the rehearsal. Edith quickly turns, scanning the darkened corners of the theater. Her eyes catch movement: a figure, barely visible, standing in the shadows beneath the balcony.

The figure doesn't move, doesn't speak, but she can feel their eyes on her, watching her intently. A shiver runs through her, a mixture of fear and intrigue. Her heart pounds in her chest as she takes a tentative step toward the shadowed figure, but before she can get closer, one of the singers notices her.

"Hello there, Miss!" calls a woman from the stage, her voice pulling Edith out of her trance and making her turn her face towards hers. The actors pause their rehearsal, turning to look at the young girl.

"We rarely have visitors during rehearsals, especially this early. Is there something I can assist you with?"

Edith hesitates, torn between her desire to investigate the shadowy figure and the need to respond. She glances back to where the figure had been, but they're gone, disappeared into the darkness.

Swallowing her disappointment, Edith forces a smile and addresses the actress. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I... I was just curious about the theater."

The actress smiles kindly, stepping off the stage and walking toward Edith. "It's no intrusion. It's always nice to see someone intrigued by an old theater." She looks Edith up and down, as if trying to place her. "You seem a bit young to be interested in a place like this. What brings you here?"

Edith hesitates, unsure of how much to reveal: "Do you perchance know Mr. Harrison? Louis Harrison?". Observing the look of surprise on the singer's face, she quickly added: "Let's say I am.. a distant relative to him".

The actress's expression softens with understanding. "Ah, Louis. He was a great man. This theater was his life. It's nice to see someone from the old days coming back, even if it's just a relative." She smiles at her and then gestures toward the stage. "We're just rehearsing for a new play. The place isn't what it used to be, but we keep it going, in his memory."

Edith nods, though her thoughts are still on the mysterious figure. "I'd like to learn more about the theater... and about Mr. Harrison"

The singer smiles, a bit wistfully. "There's a lot of history here, some of it good, some of it not so much. But if you're interested, I can show you around after we're done. Maybe even tell you a few stories."

"That would be perfect!" she responds, a smile plastered on her lips.

As the singer returns to the stage to resume the rehearsal,  Edith takes one last glance at the darkened corner where the figure had been.  She's certain now that someone was there, watching her. And though they're gone, she can't shake the feeling that this won't be her last encounter with them.

The figure, hidden once more in the depths of the theater, watches Edith from afar.