Here's some more of my newest story! I know it's been a while, and it'll probably be a while more before another update... The next morning, the five o’clock church bell woke us. Christine, Meg, myself, and all the other girls got dressed like it was a normal day, like nothing had happened yesterday. After dressing, we went down to breakfast, and then, our morning rehearsals. Christine did not join us or the rest of the dancers. Instead, she rehearsed the singing parts. He voice was nice, but somewhat unclear when she hit the higher notes. The dancers jumped into the air in one perfectly timed motion, as all our wrists were chained together. Somehow, my leg found its way over the chain and I tripped, bringing half my row down with me. “Rose!” Madame Giry said sternly, “Where is your mind today?” “I’m so sorry Madame Giry,” my face was hot with embarrassment, “My leg slipped.” As I stood up, several girls snickered. I shot them a glare that created instant silence. We finished our routine without further incident. Unless you count Giselle’s incident with taking off the chains, she managed to get her arms all tied up. I was leaving the theater via backstage when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I saw Joseph Buquet grinning drunkenly at me. “That was a nasty spill missy,” he said, “Are you alright?” “Yes,” I said curtly, starting to walk away. Buquet stopped me, “Maybe I should make sure,” he moved closer to me. He was so near that I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Get away!” I yelled, and kicked him hard. As Buquet stumbled, I ran all the way back to the dormitory. * * * I was panting when I got there. “What’s wrong?” Camille asked. “That stagehand, Buquet,” I explained. The rest of the girls nodded a big and started talking. I was not the first to reject Buquet’s advances. “Just yesterday, he was trying to get near me,” Jeanne said. “Oh, he’s so creepy!” Brigitte shuddered. This discussion kept us occupied for a while. “A while” being until the door burst open. There, in all her overbearing, overdressed, diva “glory” was La Carlotta. “Where is Christine Daaé?” she hissed. Several girls whispered nervously. Christine was still singing in the theater. “If you must know,” I said boldly, “Christine is in the chapel, praying for success in tonight’s performance. She’s playing the lead, you know,” I added just to frustrate Carlotta. The chapel wasn’t anywhere near the theater. Carlotta stormed out; muttering obscenities in her native Spanish. Once she was out of earshot, we all burst into laughter. When the giggles subsided, Therese said, “You know, Carlotta is not going to be happy when she goes all the way across the Opera House and Christine is not there. She’ll want to get back at you.” “Don’t worry,” I shook my head, “She can’t hurt me; I’m way too valuable to the corps du ballet.” I hoped I was right. Otherwise, I’d be in the market for a job pretty soon. * * * The next day, we were scheduled to start rehearsing a new opera, Il Muto. And since Carlotta was back, Christine was tossed aside into the roll of the Pageboy. She was not one bit happy with that. But she couldn’t do anything about it. Everything seemed to be going all right for this opera. There weren’t any falling backdrops, and no one quit. Since we only had a few rehearsals, I made the most of the time we got. Sure, I was the best dancer, and I knew all the routines by heart; but dancing made me forget about Christine and her problems. * * * Before I knew it, the performance was here. As we got ready in the dressing room, I saw someone peek in through a hole in the wall. ‘Buquet for sure…’ I thought. I grabbed a hairpin and jabbed it through the hole. When I heard Buquet cry out, I knew the pin had found its mark. “Do you have a problem with everyone in this Opera House?” Jeanne asked me. “No,” I replied, lacing up my shoes, “Just divas and perverts.” The door opened, it was Monsieur Firmin. “You girls, get on stage now!” “We don’t go on until Act 3,” Giselle said. “I know! There’s been a problem.” Let me know what you think! | 
