When you only have one person to talk to, you usually end up talking to yourself. I was sipping my usual morning wine, standing next to the frame of an oil based painting of a women in which stood over the fireplace.
"Anything interesting happening today?" I asked Daroga, making him put down his newspaper.
"Everyday is interesting Erik."
"Just asking."
"Will you walk with me up to the House?"
"Of course." I think Daroga senses my loneliness even though I have him. I try to re-insure him I'm fine and a mir walk is good for the body.
Grabbing my cape, Daroga and I made our way. The catacombs are filled with dust and darkness. To get to the main tunnel we must cross the eerie lake. It’s fumes filled with death and illness. It’s color matched with a dread green of vomit.
For the sake of Daroga not being seen with me, I stay at the bottom of the stairs as Daroga reaches the door leading to the Opera house.
"Stay out of trouble." Daroga spoke chuckling while, putting on his top hat.
"Same to you." I couldn't help but smile as well.
***
I've practiced the violin and wrote some verses to my Don Juan Triumphant, but I couldn't help but feel curious. I'm curious what Daroga is doing? Hum. Curiosity usually gets the best of me.
From the hidden passageway in the costume closet. I slowly make my way around. The Opera house is grand with her paintings, statues, and the grand chandler. The Opera can't go on without her actors. Ballerinas from all over, chorus members, the men and women of the lead roles. I have to admit some are not half bad, but could use some practice.
Sneakily, I make my way to my favorite box. Box 5. Occasionally during rehearsals and performances I sneak up there. Just to catch a glimpse of the play. Seeing the ballerinas twirl, the popping colors of the costumes, the set and listening to the waves of the music.
"Okay, chop chop! Auditions are about to begin! Clear the stage!" Madame Giry, our backbone of the Opera advised. I peer down to the house to see Daroga clipboard in hand.
Auditions? For what? Please be to replace that Prima Donna, Carlotta. Her voice is like screeching birds. Daroga agrees, but since she has money and a range of fans we know tickets will be sold. I can tell we are not the only two who dislike. The whole company does. I do think though Pangi likes her though. He’s the main male role. He’s not bad, but not perfect. He is a little over weight.
"Ready sir?"
"Yes."
"Ladies!" From stage left a line of girls appeared, all in different shapes and sizes. This will be fun. Sitting back in the chair I fix the curtain so to the stage I only look as a shadow or nothing at all.
Daroga looked up at me, giving me the 'what are you up too?' look.
***
The girls sang a verse from Donatello.
Oh. How the birds sing
Singing their good mornings and good nights
Please don't forget my song
Good morning
Some were decent, one was even worse than Carlotta which I never thought was physically possible. Shaking my head to the current singer I saw Daroga looked worried.
"Is that all Madame Giry?"
"Yes!-"
"Wait! Please wait!" A high little voice yelled cutting off Madame Giry.
"Please pardon my lateness. Is there still time?" The young woman asked. She had a sparkle in her chocolate eyes in which corresponds with her long Brunette hair.
Daroga looked up at me. Agreeing, I nodded. The woman peered toward my direction making me stiff. Did she see me? She couldn't have.
"Yes. You can give Madame Giry your information after." With a smile on her face she moved away from the apron to the plaster line.
Oh. How the birds sing
Singing their good mornings and good nights
Please don't forget my song
Good morning
She sang stretching the last 'good.' I could feel my heart skip a few beats just in those little seconds. Something in me said I have to make my impression! Quickly, I made up my mind to grab a trained mourning dove from the stables. She would be awed. I know she will.
Back in the house Daroga was looking at his clipboard and then back up at the ladies who were lined on the plaster line.
"Little Dove, fly to the lady with the angel voice." I whispered, with the dove on my fingers. I lifted the dove up to help it to fly. The dove flew with grace, but landed to a seat near Daroga. Really? Stupid bird!
Daroga looked up at me perplexed. With my hands I tried gesturing the dove was pose to fly to the stage.
"You better do what he said little bird." Daroga whispered, as the bird made its way.
"A bird!" A woman yelled. One terrified went down on her knees with her hands on her head. I wanted to laugh a loud. It was too funny. Was the lady scared she would get pecked at or pooped on?! A chuckle escaped.
The small dove descended landing in front of the young girl. Gently she put her hand out for the bird to perch on her gentle fingers. Everyone stood astonished. I have to admit so am I.
"Sir? Is this one of the Opera's birds?" She asked.
Still in amazement Daroga spoke, "yes." Clearing his throat he spoke again. "Madame Giry, I've made my choice. I want her." Daroga pointed toward the woman with the dove. Yes! Thank you bird! You're not as stupid as I thought.
"Miss would you come off stage and follow me."
"Sir? The bird?"
"He knows where to go," with those words the bird flew back up to me. I could feel her eyes watching the bird as it disappeared with in the box.
UPDATED: August 11, 2016
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Erik, The Phantom Of The Opera
RomanceThe Phantom Of The Opera Fan fiction Erik knows there is something greater he was born to do, but what? Staying in the Opera wouldn't help. Or would it? When auditions are held to find an understudy for the current Prima Dona Carlotta. Hearing of...
