Chapter 22: Morning Musings

Evangeline's POV

"Mademoiselle McKenna. May I come in?"

I woke up to the sounds of a female voice and a knocking on my dressing room door. I turned on the gas lamps that surrounded the place as I rushed over to the door to open it.  On the other side of my door was a nervous, young girl that had caramel skin, curly dark brown hair, a pair of brownish-green eyes, and was dressed in a simple black dress with a white apron and bonnet.

"May I help you?" I asked politely.

"Oh, f-forgive me, m-mademoiselle. I am Clairette, your maid." She stuttered as she gave a short curtsy.

I widened the door for her to come in as she shuffled over to where I was sitting. While she stood there, I decided to get dressed behind a giant, pink dressing screen that sat in one of the corners of the room. I took out a purple dress with beige, lace cuffs and collar (A/N: the dress is above) and put it on while Clairette stood in total silence.

"So, you seem like you could be my age. How old are you?" I asked, trying to make conversation from behind the screen.

"Seventeen years, ma'am." She replied in a soft voice.

"Wow, so we're a year apart! I'm eighteen myself."

There was more silence as I finished getting dressed and stepped away from the screen and back to the vanity. Even as I sat there and began to decide how to do my hair, Clairette still stood there, her eyes on the floor and as silent as ever.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you just standing there saying nothing? You can sit down and we can talk if you want to."

She jumped in surprise and began to apologize as if her life depended on it.

"Oh, forgive me, mademoiselle! I didn't realize! How stupid of me!"

She then rushed to where I was sitting and started to do my hair for me, all the while murmuring and reprimanding herself.

"Oh no, you don't have to do that. I can handle it by myself." I tried to calm her down, but to no avail, as she began to do my hair.

There was an awkward pause for a moment as she got to the hair brushes, combs, and hair ties as the clock chimed six.

"You have beautiful, long hair, mademoiselle."  She complimented as she fashioned my hair into two cornrows on the side of my head, connected it into a single braid in the back, and then fashioned the braid into a bun.

With my hair done, she backed away from my chair as I looked at my reflection.

"Girl, you got my hair on fleek!" I squealed, momentarily forgetting where and when I was.

"Fleek? What does 'fleek' mean?" She asked, confusion evident on her face.

"It's a made up word that people say when someone does a good job on something. I just said that you did a good job on my hair." I quickly explained.

"Well, in that case, thank you, mademoiselle."

"Hey, you don't have to keep calling me mademoiselle. Just call me Evangeline!"

Although she kept her expression pretty much blank, I could tell that in her mind, she thought I was a little crazy.

"If that is what you want, then I will comply." She said as I got up.

I checked the time and saw that it was now 6:30, so that meant that I had at exactly two hours to make Erik and I some breakfast and come back up here in time for rehearsals.

"Would that be all, madem- I mean, Evangeline?" Clairette asked as she watched me grab my satchel from off the bed.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. You can take a break if you want to. Oh, wait! Before I forget, can you tell the ladies at the costume department that I'll be down there as soon as possible? They said that they wanted to take my measurements."

"Of course, Evangeline."

With that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her. As I heard her walk away from the door, I quickly opened the mirror but had to close it back up again as I heard another knock on my door.

I opened it and there stood Jeannette, holding an envelope in her right hand and her left hand was balled up into a little fist.

"Hey, kiddo! What's going on?" I asked her as she came inside.

"Mademoiselle Evangeline! Look what Monsieur Phantom has given to me!' She replied as she shoved the envelope into my hand.

I took the note out of the envelope and read it out loud.

Dear Jeannette,

I am sorry for what I almost did.

I did not mean you any harm.

This gift is for you.

It is to show how sorry I am.

Your Friend,

O.G

She then opened her left hand and handed me the gift in question. I peered down on a diamond necklace with emeralds connected to the lower half of it and a giant emerald pendant that was surrounded by white diamonds attached to it.

"Wow, he really gave you that necklace?" I asked, impressed.

She nodded her head so fast that I thought that she would hurt herself.

"And guess what? He gave notes and presents to all of the other girls too!"

I was then reminded of what happened last night. Erik had gone through the main entrance, which was the golden mirror in my dressing room, at two AM and wouldn't tell me why he was up there.

Did Erik leave the safety of his lair just to give Jeannette and the rest of the chorus and ballet girls apology letters and gifts? Was that the reason why he was still up at the dead of night?

"Say, don't you have to go to breakfast?" I asked the chatty five-year-old as I watched her blab on and on about how she and Erik were now going to be friends and how cool it all was. Although I would have loved to sit in my dressing room and watch her adorableness, I needed to go see Erik and make the two of us some breakfast.

She froze mid-sentence as she realized that she was going to be late.

After I quickly ushered Jeannette out of my room, I closed my door, reopened the mirror,  practically flew down the stairs, and rowed the boat back to shore.

I quickly rushed to the kitchen to get started on breakfast as I got the ingredients together to make pancakes and bacon, taking quick glances at the clock to make sure that I wasn't gonna be late. As I made the batter (taking special care as to not get anything on my clothes), I couldn't help but wonder where Erik was. After he came into my dressing room at two AM, I had fallen asleep and even though he was up late last night, he was always awake during this time.

When I finished cooking, it was 7:30, meaning I had an hour until I had to go back upstairs. I placed the plates on both opposite sides of the table and a jar of honey in the middle part of the table, but yet Erik was still nowhere in sight. After waiting for about ten minutes, I decided to look around the lair for my masked homie.

I searched almost the entire house, but my efforts were fruitless until I entered his bedroom. I quietly entered his room, the creepy black coffin with velvet lining open and vacant of its living occupant. I scanned the entire room until my vision fell onto a very dim light that sat at the furthest corner away from the front door.

I slowly ventured over to where the light was, when I noticed the familiar, hunched-over outline of my roommate, sitting on a chair, his head cushioned by his long arms that were folded on the small, paper-cluttered desk,  fast asleep.

I couldn't help but smile and giggle softly.

Here he was, the fearsome Phantom of the Opera, asleep after acting like a masked version of Santa Claus who gave the kids Christmas four months early as an apology for yesterday. I gently pulled his chair towards his open casket and placed him inside. Then, without thinking much about it, I gave him a small kiss on the forehead.

"You did good, knucklehead," I whispered as I left his bedroom and closed the door.

I  then placed his slightly cold breakfast onto the stove on low so that it could heat back up without getting burnt, quickly ate my own meal, and headed back up so that I wouldn't be late and/or get fired. By the time I got up there, it was already 8:25 and I had beaten the managers by five minutes.

As soon as 8:30 rolled around, both men walked through the door with Robert staring at me with a small smile on his face and Johnathan blatantly ignoring me as we started to rehearse for the gala and for Lucia di Lammermoor.

Robert's POV

I consider myself a good, pious, Christian man.

I mean, I go to church on Sundays, I follow the laws of the land, I help the less fortunate, and I try to show everyone respect. If you asked any one of my tutors or colleagues at the Univerité De Strasbourg, they would all agree with me wholeheartedly that I have shown nothing but piety and good will towards my fellow man.

Although, certain people would say otherwise.

Can I help it that I was born to a privileged life as the son of a successful plantation owner? Was it my fault that my father would use slaves from Africa to help us bring in the harvests and assist us with our everyday work? No, it has been like this ever since our forefathers came to the Americas almost a hundred years ago and if this horrid war was not fought, it would have continued for a hundred more.

In fact, I find that although the buying and selling of slaves can be rather unpleasant for both the consumer and merchandise, it is a necessary evil that all wealthy, good men of faith must do. Especially when it comes to the enslavement of the poor Africans.

I believe that we had taken good care of them. We had to. Everyone knows how those Africans were like little, lost children. They needed us to direct them into the good, honest Light of our Lord. To save their souls, we had to enslave their bodies. True, we might have been harsh, but it was necessary for us to do so. Even before the war, they were prone to violence and rebellion, so we had to drive it out of them as early and as often as we can. "To spare the rod is to spoil the child" as the Good Book says, and the Africans were the most unruly children of all.

Surely, God would be pleased with my family for trying to teach them the truth.

I kept on with my musings as I hurried downstairs to the dining room, where sat my father, my mother, and my little sister, Maggie as they ate a breakfast of scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and assorted fruit.

"Ah, good morning, my beautiful boy." Ma said in a cheerful voice. Her chestnut hair was fashioned into an elegant bun as she wore a simple, white dress that matched with with my younger sister's as she wore a white sundress and her own chestnut hair plaited into two braids.

"Robby! I saved you a seat." My sister smiled as she pointed to the chair right across from her.

As I sat down, Pa started his day with his usual complaints  about business. Only instead of complaining about an entire plantation of Africans, he was now focusing his rage on the only one there.

Our new Prima Donna, Evangeline McKenna.

As he ranted on and on about how outrageous it was that we were pretty much forced to hire an African, I started to think about our estranged employee.

Despite my father's opinion of her, I must admit that ever since I met her on that bitter cold morning six months prior, I have held a sort of admiration for her and her kind as one would admire a rare, mysterious creature that is both powerful and of rather hostile nature.

I noticed this even when she auditioned to get the job. Pa was still very grieved about how we had to leave everything behind since our former slaves decided to leave and never return and he was taking some of his anger out on her. But instead of shedding any tears or even flying at him in rage, she kept calm. I saw in her eyes that it would have pleased her greatly to silence him, but nonetheless, she restrained herself.

"Ugh! I still can't believe that we had to hire that spawn of Satan! She would probably cause everyone else to be out of a job when she fails on opening night. Am I right, Robert?"

I didn't notice that he was still talking as I continued to think about Miss McKenna until I heard him clear his voice at me.

"Are you even listening to me?" Pa asked, shaking me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, yes Pa. I apologise for seeming so distant."

We were silent until Ma spoke up.

"Speaking of opening night, when will that be?"

"At the end of August, Ma."

"Wonderful!" My mother said excitedly, " Then that would mean that we have plenty of time for Margret and I to get fitted for new dresses and shoes."

Maggie and I rolled pur eyes in response. Leave it to Ma to start pointless chatter about dresses and shoes and whatnot.

As we continued on with breakfast, my thoughts drifted back to Evangeline. While the subject of her breed was uncanny, her voice was another matter entirely.

I have heard negros sing often times before, especially when the war was taking place and there was an exotic beauty in every note of their rather primitive songs, but when she sang, it seemed to put the singer out of our entire plantation to shame. Not even my own mother has an exquisite voice like that and she had been taught by many a tutor.

"Come on, son. We have to go to work." My father suddenly replied as our servants took our plates away.

"Goodbye, Ma. Goodbye, Maggie."

I ran outside to meet my father outside our villa as we took our carriage to the Opera Garnier.

"Now son, I don't want you to be in any contact with that coon, you hear me? Her species are a rather nasty breed." Pa remarked as he noticed that we were getting closer to our destination.

I only nodded as the carriage stopped and the footman we hired opened our door.

We then proceeded to unlock the Opera House's main entrance, open the mahogany doors, and made our way to the house of the theatre. As we entered, I easily identified Evangeline's presence as she watched us enter from where she stood on stage.

As Pa's back was turned I quickly gave her a small smile as I noticed him going on as if she wasn't present.

"Alright everyone!" He exclaimed as he looked at everyone except for her.

"Let's begin."

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