Death Awakens

The next several days found Lila back on the stage. She watched as Sir Robert continued auditions, ignoring her. This suited Lila, as she preferred to think that that awful kiss had never happened. She remained on the sidelines or on the edge of the stage near the orchestra pit, singing phrases softly to herself as others bustled by her.

“We’re going to start the auditions for Lord Rosen’s fiancée today! Singers may audition with any piece they desire, but if I do not believe it adequately tests your vocal range, I will ask you to sight-read the opening lines to the first act!” Sir Robert announced. Lila paused in her practicing to cock her head towards the stage, curious at the line of young singers standing awkwardly under the spotlight. The first girl began to sing and Lila winced at the awkward harshness of her tinny soprano. Horrible. She would need much, much more practice in order to be stage-worthy. Several other singers fared likewise and Lila soon returned to her sheet music. There were only a few singers who stood out as competent, and even that was dreadful. Erik would want nothing but the best.

There was a long pause between singers, and Lila scrunched up her brow, thankful for the added quiet to concentrate on her pieces.

“Think of me, think of me fondly,
when we said goodbye
Imagine me, every so often,
Please promise me you’ll try”

Lila looked up stunned to see a woman dressed in fine satin standing upon the stage. She was fashionably slim, swaddled in brilliant smoky scarlet, and Lila could tell from a distance this was a lady of high society. The brim of an enormous hat covered her face, but Lila knew. Her voice was unforgettable. It was Christine.

“Marvelous! Simply impeccable!” Sir Wellsley exclaimed. He rushed onto the stage and grasped Christine’s hand. “Your voice is as exquisite as before you became de Chagny, my dear,” he said, grinning rakishly at her as he pressed an ardent kiss upon her palm.

A handsome young man cleared his throat from the side stage, covering the distance between them in three long steps. He was impeccably dressed, like his wife but looked decidedly more uncomfortable. “We appreciate your remarks, Sir Wellsley. The Vicomtess has wanted for a while to return to the opera house. It is a delight to be back,” the Vicomte said stiffly. Even from her position, Lila could tell that he was eyeing the balconies around them, and she did not miss the protective way in which grasped the narrow curve of his wife’s waist.

“Yes, yes of course!” Sir Wellsley replied. “There is no one that could compare to the Vicomtess! She most assuredly has the role of Madame Rosen-to-be. Why… even our little diva would have a run for her money when compared to you.”

Christina smiled, “And who is your “little diva,” Sir Robert?”

Sir Wellsley stood up sharply and turned to meet the wide-eyed stare of Lila. “Come here, my darling!” he called, beckoning her towards him. “Come along, don’t be shy.”

Lila stood up slowly and made her way towards the three. She ran her hands along the folds of her makeshift skirt, very aware of the dirt that clung to the fabric, and the mussed, hasty bun that held her hair. She blushed furiously, mortified before Christine who had transformed into a breathtaking lady.

“This is Lila! The newest star to grace Paris!”

Christine narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked down at her. “Lila? Have we met before?”

Lila nodded slightly, shuffling her feet like a child before sighing, and straightened to her full posture. “I was backstage on the opening of Don Juan. We ran into each other before the final scene.” She saw the Vicomte stiffen, and felt mortified at the ensuing quiet.

“I believe there are some tasks that call my attention,” the Vicomte said brusquely. Then bowing slightly at Lila, and kissing the hand of his wife, he left quickly.

“Well, it seems that the Vicomtess and you will be vying for the same Lord Rosen,” Sir Wellsley said heartily. He seemed oblivious to the strained silence as he brashly wrapped one arm around Lila’s shoulders, squeezing his hand around the curve of her arm.

“Have you met the man who will play Lord Rosen, Lila?” Christine asked quietly.

Lila nodded, “He unfortunately will not be in Paris until the opening night of the opera. But he is working very closely with the writer of the music, and I assure you he is more than competent for the part.”

“Not until the opening night!?” Mr. Wellsley exclaimed. “When was I going to be informed of this? How are we to rehearse an opera when the leading man is not here to sing with our diva?!”

“I was assured that—“

“You cannot assure anything without rehearsal, Lila! This is unheard of and impossible! You must talk to him then, talk to the writer or to that OG fellow, but this is completely unacceptable.”

“O.G.?” Christine whispered quietly. Her face had gone white and Lila saw the slight tremble that appeared in her gloved hands.

“I promise to speak with him when I can,” Lila mumbled, then excused herself and ran back to the orchestra pit, hurriedly collecting her papers. She turned and collided sharply with the body of the Vicomtess.

“I’m terribly sorry, Vicomtess… sorry…” Lila mumbled, cursing to herself quietly as she scrambled to collect the sheet music that were now scattered across the stage.

“Please, call me Christine,” she said, kneeling down to help her. She paused, holding a single sheet, honey brown eyes widening as they looked over the notes on the page. Lila could see the tune forming in the back of her eyes, reading along with her the notes that were crossed out, the lyrics that were scribbled, the ink blotch on middle of the page, the browned edges of paper where she had kept it over the flame for too long to dry. Lila felt an uncomfortable tug as she watched Christine holding onto her music, reading her lines.

“It is beautiful. Erik has created another masterpiece,” Christine said, returning the page to Lila’s hands. “It is very low to be a soprano piece.”

“I’m an alto,” Lila said defensively. She stood, throwing her head back defiantly and staring into the face of the Vicomtess proudly.

Christine smiled softly, and nodded. “It would be Erik to be daring enough to use an alto for his leading lady.” Lila nodded stiffly. “How is he? Is he really singing as Lord Rosen?” Lila nodded again.

“You probably think I’m foolish for coming back,” Christine said, looking down now. “But I love this Opera House, and I love Paris… and I love him.” There was a thunderous crashing inside of Lila’s head as she heard Christine’s words. “I didn’t realize until… until I had hurt him and left. I love Raoul as well… I love them both in different ways. I couldn’t stay away…”
Christine looked up again, her honey brown eyes floating behind unshed tears. She hastily placed a small envelope into Lila’s hands. “Please give him this, for me?” Christine leaned forward and brushed her lips against Lila’s cheek. “And this as well,” she whispered, then turned and rushed off of the stage.

Lila stood dumbstruck, watching the Vicomtess leave. The smart click of her heels against the stage filled the empty opera house, and the warmth of where her lips had brushed against her cheek seemed to burn on her skin.