A merry ballerina with a tragic story and a sad genius with a tragic past. It's a match made in heaven. Is that the reason why they are that drawn to each other? What happens when secrets resurface? A small fluffy to brighten every phans day. EOW/EO...
Melissa was not nervous at all when it was her turn to dance with the Nutcracker Prince. The people of Paris applauded her with gusto. She danced like a fairie, and when it got to the Snow Flakes part, everyone had tears in their eyes. Despite The Sugar Plum Fairy being a complete different character from Clara, Melissa exceled the part.
And someone, with those customary blazing eyes, watched her eagerly from Box 5.
Erik was so proud.
The first rose after the show ended was thrown on the stage by him.
When she entered her dressing room, he was there, of course, and she threw herself into his arms.
"How was it?" she asked for his opinion.
"You were... ravishing!" then he blushed. Melissa hadn't asked about that aspect, but it was nice to hear it, all the same, since she smiled. "Astonishing, I mean!" Erik corrected.
They kissed, passionately. But he heard some white noise approaching and broke the kiss, leaving by some secret passageway without a warning.
"No! Erik..." whispered Melissa.
Suddenly, a swarm of ballerinas burst into Melissa's dressing-room.
"Melissa! Melissa! Oh, Melissa!"
"You were amazing!" said a girl she knew the name was Joanne.
"Really worth of the part!" cried out Meg.
Melissa was dead on her feet.
"Aw, look, she's falling asleep! Let's leave her be! Bye Mel!" said Little Jammes.
'Mel?' thought Melissa.
And she fell on her bed, wearing tutu and all, so tired that she was.
She dreamed peacefully of success and romance because the voice of an Angel sang in her dreams...
888
Never could anyone imagine that two weddings would happen in the same church, in Paris.
Christine, since she had nothing to hide, chose a luminescent white dress with a tail dragging through the floor and without a corset. The bouquet was of violets.
But the one glowing was Raoul. She was wearing his wedding ring. She had seen her mistake.
The bestman was Philippe, Raoul's big brother, holding the rings.
But there was a disturbing element in the room. A skull that reminded everyone of Death.
But the other bride was also glowing, while walking through the aisle. How could there be such a disparity? Her hair was shining, her dress was champagne in color, with a tight corset and intricate brocades. The bouquet seemed to be jasmines and for the surprise of all, the bestman was The Persian. Though she barely knew him...
Who else would it be?
The Priest was somewhat nervous.
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