When Tomorrow Comes {Les Misérables}

Chapter One

October 7, 1831—Friday

Her eyes fluttered open, a cold breeze flowing through her dorm room. Andra shivered as she pulled her thin blanket up to her neck, trying to force her mind back to sleep. But it was not to be.

The sunlight was streaming in from the broken window, making this October morning sky strangely unclouded. It was early into the month and had not yet began to snow. This Andra was thankful for as she did not have a winter coat and she was unsure of how she would afford to buy one.

Years ago her position as and opera singer would have made her famous and given her plenty of extra pocket change, but not anymore. Everybody was poor. The Opera House could barely afford to put on productions, much less pay their singers and dancers a fair wage. But Andra did not complain. It was better than being what her mother was.

Andra sat up in bed and tore the thin blanket away from her body, the only thing protecting her from the cold being her thin nightgown. Andra was the first one up, as always. She forced herself to tip toe quietly to her trunk at the foot of her bed, which was more like a cot. Andra pulled out an old grey dress that would have been tight for any girl for her age and size from a different country. Everyone was thin in France as everyone was starved. Well, except for the nobles.

The dress still fit well enough around Andra's small waist. She sighed, content enough with the outfit she had chosen, before she left the room of the sleeping girls.

The Opera House could no longer afford dormitories for their singers and dancers as they had once long ago. Now the singers and dancers lived backstage in the Opera House itself. They were split up by gender, crammed into dressing rooms and rehearsal rooms.

Andra did not mind singing. But it was not her passion. Her passion was writing. Whether that be writing music or stories, she loved it all.

It was rare for a woman in France to know how to read and write as woman needn't be taught anything except for how to be a house wife. But Andra was not one of those women.

Madame Courture had taught Andra along with a few other female singers how to read and write, which Andra was thankful for. God, how much Andra missed Madame Courture.

Andra knew that role call would be soon, so she headed to what they considered a kitchen and took her fair ration of stale bread. It was the only thing they could afford.

The singers themselves often scrapped their own money together to buy food, which the owners of the Opera House were supposed to buy. This bread was now about a week old, but the singers had yet to get paid.

Andra heard the voice of Madame Barrac echo through the Opera House as she woke up the tired singers.

"Must I remind you that you are not paid to sleep!" She yelled at the male singers as she entered their bedroom. Andra walked out into the hall and watched at Madame Barrac dumped water on one of the poor boys who was soundly asleep.

"We aren't paid at all," One of the boys mumbled as he walked out of the room to find food.

Madame Barrac walked out of the men's dorms and stopped in front of Andra. She stared at the young girl, her signature scowl on her lips.

"You shall be singing an original at the next show," Madame Barrac told Andra. Andra's face dropped.

"But Madame, that is in three days. The song isn't even finished-" Andra tried to reason with Madame Barrac, but she was cut of by Madame Barrac's hand flying across Andra's face. Madame Barrac never saw a problem with physical punishment. Andra's head snapped to the side.

"You do not talk back to me!" She screamed at Andra as she moved her head back to look at Madame Barrac. "And you see, that is not my problem. You will preform that song."

Madame Barrac then stomped away to wake up the female singers. Long ago, Andra would've burst into tears at physical pain of the slap. But now, her eyes don't even water. This life has hardened her soul. If she is slapped daily but still had a job, she is lucky. She rather take a million beatings than deal with the hunger pains erupting in her stomach worsening.

Andra went back to her dorms and sat down at her bed, trying her best to finish the latest song she had written in the half hour before practice began.

She finally finished the song and rushed out to the stage, beginning her vocal warm ups. Madame Burrac lead the singers through the warm ups, making them push their vocal cords further than their voice ranges call for.

Andra was supposedly the opera's star pupil. This is because she had been training so long. Since she could talk, she began to sing.

"Andra!" Madame Barrac waved the singer up to her. Andra rushed up to the coordinator. "Do you have the finished song?" Andra nodded before handing the sheet music to Madame Barrac.

Madame Barrac took the music and read over it, shooing Andra to center stage so she can perform it.

Andra watched as her fellow singers made a half circle around her, waiting to see what she had most recently prepared. It was an understatement to say the singers were jealous of Andra and the fact that she was considered the prima donna of the Paris Opera House.

The song she had written was and ode to the Greek story of Icarus, the boy who ignored his father's warning and flew too close to the sun, which resulted in his death. Andra loved this story as it was tragic. The boy ignored the threats of danger and soured towards the sun for a moment of glory before dying brutally.

Madame Barrac hushed the whispering singers and Andra took in a deep breath, preparing to sing.

"Jeune garçon dans les nuages
La vie a fini par tomber
Son père était un prisonnier, fabriqué, il l'a fait
Il a fait deux paires d'ailes
Un pour l'enfant.
Icare a vécu court
Comme il volait trop haut
Il a oublié l'avertissement
Ce qui le fit mourir.
Il sentit la cire fondre
Comme les plumes s'enflamment
Il ressemblait à un phénix
Sans pluie.
Il a plongé
Frapper l'eau, c'est fait
Et c'est l'histoire d'Icare
Le garçon qui s'est envolé pour se rapprocher du soleil."

Andraste finished the song, looking to Madame Barrac for her reaction. Madame Barrac nodded in approval, which was the best praise she ever gave. A hint of a smile played on Andra's lips and she walked back into the group of her fellow singers.

Author' Note:

Hello everyone! I'd like to say thank you so much for reading this story. This chapter is slow and boring but it is mostly just meant to introduce you to Andraste and show what her life is like. It will begin picking up in the next chapter.

The English translation for the song is below:

Young boy in the clouds
Life ended by falling down
His father was a prisoner, crafted, he did
He made two pairs of wings
One for the kid

Icarus lived short
As he flew too high
He forgot the warning
Which caused him to die

He felt the wax melt
As the feathers set aflame
He looked like a Phoenix
Without any rain

He plunged down and down
Hitting the water, done
And that is the story of Icarus
The boy who flew to close to the sun

And there are no credits for this song because I wrote it.