Chapter Text
The opera house was dull and quiet, with only the sound of the auctioneer listing items resounding off of the high walls. An elderly woman with a head full of white hair sat in a chair in the corner, her head hung low and her eyes downcast. One would assume in her youth she was a stunning bright girl, but now the lines of her face were pressed with melancholy. Another old woman, dressed in all black with dark grey hair stepped out of a carriage and entered the Palais.
“Lot 665, ladies and gentlemen, a papeir-mache musical box in the shape of a barrel-organ. This item, discovered in the vaults of the theater, still in working order, ladies and gentlemen.” The auctioneer stated. Both women laid eyes on the box, a shadow passing over their faces. They held up the music box, and it began to play a sweet tune of the past.
“May I commence at fifteen francs?” The dark haired woman put her hand up. “Fifteen, thank you.” The white haired woman put her thin, feeble hand up by her face as well. “Yes, twenty from you ma’am, thank you very much. Madame, twenty-five? Thank you, Madame. Twenty-five, I'm bid.”
The two women kept raising their hands to win the music box. “Do I hear thirty? Thirty! And thirty-five? Selling at thirty francs then. Thirty once, thirty twice?”
The dark haired woman shook her head. She had lost the bet. “Sold, for thirty francs to the Opera Star, Furina De Fontaine. Thank you, madame.” The dark woman’s head turned swiftly to see the old woman. She was handed the music box, and she studied it closely.
“A collectors price indeed…” Every detail exactly how she remembered. “Will you still play when all the rest of us are dead…?”
The woman in dark clothes began to make a motion to walk over to the old opera singer, but was stopped by the next lot.
“Lot 666, then: a chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera—a mystery never fully explained. We're told, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster. Our workshops have repaired it and wired parts of it for the new electric light. Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination. Gentlemen?”
They hoisted the chains, and the chandelier began to take off from the ground. Heavy, beautiful framework adorned with circular bulbs and crystals that hung down and shone brightly as the lights began to flicker to life. The room itself illuminated, turning the scene from a dull grey to a brilliant red and gold. The two women’s eyes widened as they followed the chandelier up.
They remembered. The candles lit the stage once more, the ballerinas twirled in perfect, practiced sync, the powerful organs played a chord of loud, powerful mystery. The performers hustled back stage, sneaking chugs of wine before their show. Women doing makeup, men painting wooden plank backdrops. The Palais Garnier, as it was in 1870…