The Phantom's African Rose

Chapter 19: The Phantom Returns

Erik's POV

I slunk around the secret passageways as I found my way towards Box Five. As expected, the new managers had given her the position without any problems and today will be her first rehearsal. Of course, I must confess that I might have interfered in some way, but she doesn't need to know that.

After all, she didn't know that I had watched her audition.

*Flashback*

I was watching the auditions from the newly fixed catwalks above the stage, careful to not be seen by any of the stagehands in the wings or by the girls on the stage below as I waited anxiously to see Evangeline.

Years before Firmin and André were hired to be managers, years before I had caused the fire that destroyed the Opera House in the first place, way before I had met my dear friend, I would dread watching the auditions that the managers would hold. Some of the women had no business to even consider auditioning for a part in the chorus, much less as a Prima Donna.

I was there when the Opera House first had these auditions more than fifteen years ago when the Opera Garnier had just been newly built and Charles Garnier was still alive. I had seen many Prima Donnas come and go. Each audition was the same to me. Decent and terrible girls would come up on the stage in hopes of getting the job and I ultimately made the final decision.

But this time, it would be different.

This time, there will be a woman worthy of the title.

Granted, Christine had more than enough talent and passion for becoming a Prima Donna and if things were different, she would have been the greatest Prima Donna that Paris would have ever seen.

'Enough!' I thought to myself. Now was not the time to be thinking about her. I had a new student now. A student whose voice is even better than Daée's. A student who has become a close friend who never judges me because of the masks I wear.

'Ah, but if she were to ever see your true face, then she would run away and you will never see her again. Just like Christine did!'

"Quiet! Go away!" I hissed at my thoughts, making sure that no one else heard me.

I watched as each girl sang their audition songs and be replaced by another, my poor ears being assaulted with the shameless caterwauling of some of the hopefuls.

'If Evangeline doesn't start singing soon, then I will surely become deaf from all of this painful shrieking.' I thought as I observed in absolute boredom. As the auditions lingered on and on, I kept on scanning the stage in hopes of seeing her.

"And lastly, number thirty!" I heard Jonathan Baptisté call out. There was a shuffle in the audience and I focused my gaze upon my familiar, chocolate-skinned friend as she walked down the aisle carrying a beige folder in her arms and handing it to the pianist. Finally, after waiting an eternity, I, and the rest of the present audience would finally hear what a real Prima Donna sounds like!

But instead of hearing the normal greetings that the other "singers" were given as they took the stage, I heard the older Baptisté give a scornful scoff. My blood started to boil as he berated her, calling her a "piccaninny" and a "negro" as he stated that she was only good for being a servant and that no one would want her to grace them with her voice since she was different. I still did not understand what "negro" or "piccaninny" meant, but I did know that it was a cruel insult to her and her race.

Luckily, his son intervened before I had to swoop down and put that fool in his place and resumed the audition, all the while whispering in his father's ear.