Notes

I Remember Her

"Cheer up, Phillipe."  I laughed at my older brother's board expression.  "This is supposed to be fun."

"It's not like I haven't seen an opera before."  He surveyed the room with distaste.  "Once you've seen one, you've seen them all."

"Nonsense," We weaved through the crowd of well dressed aristocrats.  "Different music, different storyline, different costumes."

"And you can only understand every other word out of their mouths."

I laughed again.  "Maybe if you paid closer attention you would understand it.  I, for one, rather enjoy the opera."

He turned and gave me a look. "Suck up," he muttered.

"Monsieur le Comte!" Two men rushed through the crowd to us. "Welcome, Monsieurs."  Both men bowed excessively.

"I presume you are the new managers?" Phillipe gave them a gentlemanly smile, now all charm and charisma.

"Why yes, I am Giles Andre, lovely to meet you, quite the pleasure."  He shook Phillipe's hand a bit too enthusiastically before moving on to mind.  I must admit for such a small man he had quite the grip.

"And I am Richard Firmin."  His voice held a slight inflection that showed he was trying to sound more important than he really was.

Phillipe and I exchanged a glance. "I am Phillipe, the Comte de Chagny and this is my younger brother Raoul, the Vicomte de Chagny."

"A pleasure to meet you both, gentlemen." I gave them each a nod.

"And the same to you," Andre replied eagerly.

"Shall we head to our box?"  Firmin was still doing that weird thing with his voice.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Phillipe had the same I-am-more-important-than-you voice but his was actually believable.  Probably because he often was the most important person in the room, and even when he's not he still thinks he is.

The two managers led us through the opera house, offering little tidbits of useless information about everything we passed, how did they know?  They just started.  Anyways neither Phillipe nor myself paid any attention.  "Why did you agree to fund the opera if you hate it?" I asked my brother quietly.

He smirked.  "It makes me seem charitable."

"Donating to an orphanage or hospital is also charitable."

"Yes but now I also appear to be a cultured gentleman who respects the arts."

"So it's a facade."

He faked an offended expression.  "Of course not, I am perfectly capable of disliking opera while still having respect for it."

"Really?"

"Of course. I could never sing like that."

I laughed at the mental image of my brother belting it out on stage in an extravagant costume. Even as children singing Christmas carols he had always been an awful singer. 

"And here we are, box four."  Firmin held open the door and waved us inside.  I must admit it was an absolutely gorgeous opera house, high ceilings, ornate golden decals, and a sparkling crystal chandelier.

"Thank you," said Phillipe as we settled into our seats. "My brother and I have been looking forward to this performance immensely."