TELL ME: I’ll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours
Drabble Meme - Accepting
LaCarlotta was no lightweight – neither in the literal nor colloquial sense.However, a few too many liquors in the dressing room, a bit too much champagneafterwards, and a tipsy prima donna was certain to be on the agenda.
The afterpartyoutside was pleasant enough, something she would have loved to be the center ofa few months ago. But oh, how a few months could change one’s circumstances,let alone one’s demeanor.
Shewasn’t depressed – not to the outside eye, at least. But she was morewithdrawn, quieter since Piangi’s death. She would still hold a long,reasonably entertaining conversation with fellow stars and the press, but shedidn’t initiate them so much as she used to. Any rumors which used to flyaround about their relationship being purely for publicity had died down –whether this was out of respect for the dead or reporters noting the change inCarlotta was undetermined.
Feathers ruffled as she turned to face the creak in the door, notingChristine’s small face peeking through. She wasn’t surprised – she’d noted herpresence before, though she hadn’t made anything of it. The young thing hadn’tshared a stage with her since the tragedy, though she remained active in Paris’smusic scene.
“If you’regoing to invite yourself in, piccolina Daae, do it.” Her voice was strung out,both from that night’s performance and the drink.
Shewaited for the girl to enter, eyes closed as she watched her in the mirror.
“You enjoyed it,yes?” She snorted to herself, adding a further shake of the head. “Your patron wouldn’t have.”
Carlotta’sunderstanding of the Phantom affair was better than most, but not quite so goodas that of the Girys’, Christine’s, or Raoul’s.
“However…” Shedrew a breath, tongue loosened by the drink and regrets. “He wasn’t the onewhich frightened me.” Another wave of the hand. “I’m no ballet rat – it takesmore than a ghost to frighten La Carlotta.”
Sheturned on her stool, a few beads jingling together, though her hazy eyes werefocused directly on Christine’s own.
“That wasyou.” She cleared her throat and continued. “I say this because I know you’llnot take to singing again – not in the opera, I don’t think.”
“But yourvoice, piccolina Daae…” Another sigh. “You possess talent. Real talent – more thanI ever had.” She closed her piercing green eyes and leaned back against thevanity. “I started late. My lessons as well – but I knew if I could take thestage, I could clutch onto it until someone like you came along. You can onlyfake it for so long.”
A soft,sad smile.
“Leave me.I’m sure you’ve more exciting people begging to speak with you out there.”
