So...here I am in the Phantom of the Opera genre. Truth be told I've had this story sitting on my USB for ages :p I need to publish it to get my butt on to this darn story! Anyway, hope you like it.
Also I used free translation to translate some of the french so if it says anything like chickens love mick jagger. Blame them XD
Chapter One: Bienvenue en Amérique
"Meg, my love, we have arrived."
Sighing away the melancholy that seemed to plague her for the past week. Meg turned and leaned to peer out the porthole window of their ship. There, looming in the foggy distance but growing ever closer stood the Statue of Liberty, a symbol of freedom, of a new start, a chance to live…
And of their escape.
Perhaps escape was too strong a word, they weren't escaping, no one was after them. They were just fleeing the aftermath France's greatest disaster.
Her mother always said the Opera Populaire was the jewel of Paris; a palace to the kings and queens of song and dance, where a person could escape the mundane monotony of everyday life and believe, even for a few hours that magic still existed.
In the opera's heyday life was golden, a city grew and thrived in its spectacular light, people lived to live, lived to love. The night of the fire killed more than just the unfortunate opera patrons, it seemed to have claimed the very spirit of opera. When the flames were all put out and the panic subsided, everyone was left wondering 'what now?' The infant owners of the Opera, Monsieur Firmin and Andre wanted nothing to do with their latest endeavor, disappearing before the lawsuits even had time to be drawn up. Offers for the opera were slow to come in, most potential buyers far too afraid with the macabre history of the stage to commit to a purchase. Time passed, the frail opera house fell even further into disrepair, the workers slowly moved on and the grey blanket of death took hold. No operas meant no visitors, the toruist-dependant businesses fell under and soon the slums rose on the carcasses of once upscale hotels.
If someone believed enough in the Opera Populaire's potential, perhaps not even then. After all, who would dare to enter the Phantom's Opera House?
Meg often wondered what happened to the ghost who so loved and adored Christine. The god turned mortal by her unrequited love? Logic would say he perished in the flames, but the reality never set right in her mind.
He was truly a marvel to Meg. Though she knew little of him in the beginning, blinded mainly by her cryptic mother, she learned he was a genius. One who could master anything with little to no practice or study and used all he learned to create a world of magic for the girl he loved. His devotion pegged him as one who would fling himself into the arms of death should his love turn him away, however a bitter jealousy, underhanded dealings, and a need to posses and control told the story of a narcissist, would a narcissist kill himself? Regardless of the sorrow?
As they left the ship and climbed into a taxi carriage, Meg put the Phantom away in her mind and focused on the day ahead.
It was not forgotten that Madame Giry was one of the finest ballet instructors in France. Within a week of the fire, 15 job offers found their way to her. Meg pleaded her mother to take one in France, unable to bear the thought of leaving her childhood home. Madame Giry wouldn't have it and decided to move them as far away from the Populaire and its ghosts as possible.
New York however was not without promise. In a few months the Metropolitan Opera, the first opera house in America would be opening and with it an elite school of performing arts. Meg was a brilliant dancer; the art came as naturally to her as breathing and sleeping from the day she was born. The most gifted performers were pulled to headline each and every opera. Madame Giry, along with several other reputable dance instructors could insure that Meg would become the world famous dancer she always wanted to be.
"Will we be staying at the opera house?" Meg asked, deciding she'd sulked long enough. The congested dock area had given way to wide streets lined with large town homes and businesses. People of high statuses strolled on the newly paved sidewalks, some zoomed by on lightweight carriages. It was almost like Paris to Meg.
Madame Giry finished relaying some directions to the cab driver and turned to Meg. "A really good friend of mine was kind enough to loan his estate to us."
"We're staying with a man?!" Meg yelled, nearly fainting in her chair, if word got out that a widow and her teenaged daughter were staying with a man, they would be shamed out of America! Madame Giry tapped her daughter on the head, "Do not be silly, Monsieur Levante is away on safari, it will just be the two of us. I expect you to be on your best behavior and refrain from touching anything that does not belong to you." She warned.
Meg smirked but nodded to show she understood, "And when the opera opens?"
"From there you will be assigned a form like any other student while I'll be assigned a room in the opera house."
"The L'école D'anges would have given us a room in the opera house together." Meg argued with a sigh.
"Let us not fight over this, it's a new beginning . Let us make the most of it." Madame Giry pleaded, extending a hand to her daughter.
Meg smirked, had she another choice? Resigning to her new fate, she feigned a smile for her mother's sake and took her hand, "Very well, a new beginning."