Roses with Ribbons

Rehearsal

Elisabeth strode to my side discreetly. I only knew it to be her because of her voice and her pale blonde hair that seemed to glow under the dim lighting backstage.

"When are you on?" she asked in a hushed whisper, looking onto the stage.

"Just a few minutes," I breathed back. When this close to the stage, silence was mandatory.

"Meet me upstairs right away," she murmured.

I nodded slightly and then she was gone. Who knows what she's found now, I thought. Hopefully nothing too unsettling. I couldn't pay attention to that now. I was on right after this scene...

After completeing the song, I flew up the staircase to the dressing room. I slid out of my costume which I laid carefully with my makeup. I threw on my leisure dress hastily, the other ladies giggling when I tripped over a box of curlers that seemed to have made its way to the floor instead of a proper shelf.

"Don't trip on your way out!" one called behind me as I shut the door. I sighed and strode briskly back to the stairs, seeing Jacques and some other man sharing a rather large bottle of cheap champangue. My feet hit the metal stairs that led to the ladies quarters with uniform clangs. I pushed the door open carefully; I had once stumbled in on a private conversation between Madame Catherine, the dance instructor, and Valentine, Elisabeth's cousin. All I heard this time was distinct shuffling. Opening the rest of the door, I was left facing Elisabeth lying on my bed, reading through papers.

"Are those mine?" I asked, feeling my face turn into a frown. Elisabeth was always pawning through items that didn't belong to her, often taking her favorites. My personal favorite, though I'd never tell her I approved of her snatching it, was a small trinket from a dresser next to some beds across the room from mine. It was a small metal music box that played a bit of Fur Elise. An amazing invention, really. When there was a rough day of rehearsal, we would often climb to the roof where we'd sit and play with it for hours. We still do.

"No," Elisabeth said, breaking my reverie. She stood up and placed the papers back in an envelope. A letter? No matter.

"What did you need to tell me?" I inquired, too alive with anticipation to sit down.

"Follow me," she replied, her eyes squishing together like they always did when she smiled.

We left the room and began descending the staircase that seemed to have filled with people who had no intention to make room for those actually attempting to use them. When we made it to stage level, Elisabeth led me down the corridor that stored all the props and set pieces when they weren't being used. Everyone in the area had a drink in hand and a pungent smell about them. When we reached the end of the hall, she turned me left and we made our way down another, this one with much more breathing room. The lighting was dim and our footsteps sometimes brought up a cloud of dust.

"But this is where the dead end is!" I exclaimed. Elisabeth wouldn't have made me come here for no reason!

"That's what you think," she said intensely. I was reassured. Eliabeth was always much more serious when a secret like this was involved.

We reached the dead end that every explorer here had already found: tarps strewn about, hanging randomly up on walls, unused paint spilled everywhere, creaky floorboards.

"Ready?" Elisabeth said quietly, as if the walls would blurt the secret out if she were too loud.

"Of course," I answered, excitement winding its way into the simple phrase.

Elisabeth moved on squeaky wood to a black tarp that hung much lower than the others. She tugged it down and there it was: a portrait.

"What?" I gasped. No one had ever found a painting here!

In the painting stood a girl in a shimmery white gown. Her hair was curly and brown, adorned with sparkling flowers. She had large brown eyes, skin pale as moonlight.

"She's... beautiful," I stated simply, reaching up to touch the mysterious girl's face.

"Who do you think it is?" Elisabeth asked, eyes flickering to my face.

"I have no idea..." I murmured. Never had I seen a living soul so stunning.

"It's recent. I searched this area high and low just when rehearsals began a few months ago. The first showing is in a week and I found this only this morning." She paused. "Perhaps the Phantom has returned."

I shook my head after a moment. "No, he wouldn't. And besides, this girl would have nothing to do with him. I'm sure," I disagreed. "Besides, you shouldn't speak of him. It's bad luck."

"Right," she mumbled. There was a second pause. I jumped when she laughed. "Look, now you've given me goose flesh. I'll be upstairs- I promised Valentine I'd help her write letters to her family. You'll be alright, won't you? And let me know if you figure it out or find something else!"

"Sure, sure," I agreed. "You both have fun."

"Till later!" she concluded, leaving me with the ghostly woman.

I turned back to face her. The way she was painted... It was in a way that offered a sense of... Devotion? Love? Worship? Whoever created the masterpiece must have had very good reason. It felt almost rude to hang the tarp over her again, like her eyes were accusing me as I did. Were there more secrets here? I had to find out now.

The colors of the tarps ranged from black to dusty white, all some hue of grey. I started checking underneath black tarps. Maybe other murals had been painted under tarps of similar color?

I lifted the first one to find... nothing. The same disappointment lied behind the second, third, and even the fourth. I groaned in frustartion. There has to be something else, I thought. I started to remove the fifth when I noticed gray under the tarp next to it. It was the same color as its light gray tarp, making it at first glance seem to be part of the tarp itself. I pulled on it carefully to see if it was a painting. What...

A secret passageway?