walking around the Garnier without the intention of doing nothing in particular became one of her favorite things in the last months - always singing, always worrying, ALWAYS WANDERING. it was easier to appreciate the beauty of the building, especially when no Opera was being performed - the halls were mostly empty except a few workers then, and Christine felt like a bird flying in the bright blue endless sky - free of questioning looks. the singer, then, of course quickly found strange to see HIM there - not dressed as a patrón who might have come to visit the managers, neither a reporter in search of more gossip, and also, not one of the stagehands she was familiar with. eyes went to the valuable object in his hands - one of the many jars that were part of the DECORATION. Christine squinted with the sound it made when it fell to the floor, and watched as he turned ready to go away - facing her completely. ❝ there is no need to leave, monsieur. ❞
her words were kind, even if on her lips was a knowingly smile. this man, whoever he was, was clearly dressed as one of the people who rarely could afford a visit to the Opera House but Christine knew that wasn’t enough reason to think ill of him. it didn’t make him a THIEF. ❝ if you say you are just looking, then I shall BELIEVE your word. besides — ❞ her hand took the jar from the ground, thrilling it before placing it back on its right place. ❝ it is a very pretty object, you were appreciating it and in such circumstances, I can’t blame you for that. ❞
For a moment, brows knit with c o n f u s i o n —— he expected so much worse. Most certainly NEVER believed him. His worn out attire, his lean frame —— he couldn’t deny the streets he was born, RAISED IN A liar he was, but his reputation seemed to follow him everywhere ( that or he just ALWAYS made that name for himself ). But, he wasn’t going to tell her otherwise. A smile brightens his features, diving down to quickly grab the jar before carefully placing it back. Oh, he’d come back for it later.
“Well, it certainly is —— this whole place is !!” He added, that much being TRUE. He certainly wasn’t their usual patron by any means. The arts, he could appreciate them from afar, but when one was struggling to survive from day to day, it didn’t take precedence. Eyes moved from her to their surroundings, the intricate art on the walls, the architecture itself ...
There was A LOT OF MONEY in this building.
Curiosity strikes once again, expression softening once again. To know a person on the inside would be a big help after all. A stage hand ?? Probably not, she appeared to be much higher up than that. Maybe a donor ?? “Do you get to come see the shows often ?? You must be used to its beauty by now.” He mused, attempting to make small talk. Nervous, yet always playing the game of survival, he shuffles a bit on his feet. “I gotta say, I’ve NEVER been.” Obviously.
