Ma Chérie - Phantom of the Opera (OC)

• Two •

♡ Think of Me ♡

The stage bustled with various members of the cast, whether it be the ballerina's rehearsing their routine or the prima donna screeching out her lines like a strangled cat. Amongst the crowd, Coraline stood, practising her plié and pirouette. She moved with decorum and grace, as though the music ran through her very veins, becoming a part of her tattered soul.

"Cora,"

Her shortened down name was not often used on stage, mainly because she so often kept to herself, doing her own thing without interacting and distracting her peers. So, when the beauty that was Christine Daaé called out to her, she grew puzzled. "Yes?"

"You're bleeding," the sweet brunette informed her while offering a handkerchief she had kept tucked in her sleeve.

"Oh," Coraline mumbled with dipped brows as she reached up tentatively to touch the area under her nose, feeling the warm crimson liquid coat the tips of her fingers. "Thank you," she smiled with an appreciative nod before dabbing at the blood with the handkerchief.

"Are you okay? Perhaps you should speak with the doctor. You do look awfully pale today."

"I'm fine, really." Coraline reassured with the same small smile. "I'm just a little more tired lately, is all," she explains.

It was true. Coraline had been practising more often in recent weeks, even going as far as rehearsing her routine at home when she found herself unable to relax and sleep. She was more tired and worn out than usual, and so her body was protesting. The nose bleed and her paler complexion were just the warning signs that her body would eventually succumb to the exhaustion. It was just a question of when she would finally collapse.

"If you're sure," Christine said with mild concern that bothered Coraline.

"I am,"

"Well, if you need assistance, I'm always here." Christine offered selflessly.

It was a sweet gesture, Coraline could at least admit that, but truthfully, she preferred her own company to that of others - with the exception of her Angel of Music. She was a lone soul, and that was something she often had disliked about herself. However, with time passed, she grew to understand and accept that part of her that yearned to be alone with her thoughts and the sweet comfort of music.

So, with a short appreciative nod to the pretty brunette, she turned to walk away, only to stop short with a scowl when Carlotta began her solo.

It's awful, Coraline thought with a discreet eye roll and arms folding over her chest, clearly unimpressed by the favoured prima donna. She sounds like a goat screaming... her lips tipped up at their edges at the thought, amused by the comparison.

Her gaze flicked to the maids in the audience, cleaning chairs and stuffing their ears with cotton to avoid hearing the main cast sing. For a moment, Coraline was tempted to approach them with the desire to request some for her own ears; she too, desperate to block out the screeching cow to her right.

Unfortunately, before she could take any form of action to protect her poor ears, the owner of the Opera house: Monsieur Lefevre, walked out onto the stage with two older gentlemen following behind him. "As you can see, rehearsals are underway for a new production of Chalumeau's Hannibal." He told the two men before he was interrupted by Monsieur Reyer.