WELCOME

[Aimé Olivier Beaufort]

Aimé was not happy. He stood in a darkly lit corridor, examining the score of the newest opera that the company would be performing. He had not expected to get the lead in the show but had expected to get some sort of solo performance. He was therefore enraged and thoroughly frustrated upon discovering that his character was not only a cameo character, but was also a non-singing part. He later confronted the director, demanding an explanation for this demeaning and embarrassing part he had received. The director, who had indeed expected this outburst, calmly explained that he was too young to play any of the other parts and that in a few years, he was sure to start receiving larger roles. Aimé had no choice but to accept this if he wanted to continue working with the company, so he did his best to storm off in a very muted fashion.

He found himself a nice empty corridor and flipped through the pages of the score, in which he was not to do any singing expect when he was participating with the chorus. He was doing his best to make lemonade out of these incredibly sour lemons, but the task eventually proved too difficult. He folded up the score and dropped it on the floor carelessly at his feet. He folded his arms and stared bitterly at the wall opposite him. He was not a chorus member. He had proved that years ago. It was humiliating to suddenly be thrown back into the fray, and he was sure that many of his colleagues would have little sympathy for him.

There was really only one thing that he thought might cheer him up at this time. He checked his watch, and smirked at the realization that in about five minutes ballet class would be ending, and the ballerinas would go prancing by on their way to the dressing rooms, at least one of whom he was sure would take a detour somewhere with him. That is, unless some other young lady happened to catch his eye before then. He had always enjoyed er... Giving private lessons to the women of the chorus.

[Le Fantome]

Though she was pretty sure the weather outside made for a lovely day, Odette had found herself with a never ending list of tasks that she was sure would take the entirity of the day to complete. First, some of the seemingly midless ballerinas had decided to eat too much and had produced rather large rips in their costumes fairly early in the morning. Then, one of the girls in the chorus found out her best friend was sleeping with her lover and decided to take her anger out on her clothes, which Odette, of course, had been assigned to repair. And now she was on a mission to uncover better fabric for the Primma Donna who had apparently not enjoyed her first choice for the production's main costume, which she would have to completely remake by hand. In all, the start of day had gone just peachy for Odette, who now found herself walking through corridor after corridor without actually realizing where she was going.

Instead, she ran over item after item of her continually expanding list, making sure she would not miss anything that she would have to go back and correct later. In her arms were pelts of fabric piled higher than her eyesight, making it impossible for her to see anyone approaching. She only assumed people would get out of her way, and so she payed no attention what-so-ever to what little she could see, knowing the halls by heart.

Unfortunately, she did not account for little obstacles that people could make, so when her foot found itself sliding on a piece of paper, her mind was in a whirl as she fell flat on her back, her pelts of fabric falling in an array around her. The shock of the fall quickly wore off and Odette painfully sat herself up, cursing herself under her breath, totally unaware of fellow resident. "God! Stupid, stupid! Damn Primma Donna with her stupid needs and these stupid pelts.."

[Aimé Olivier Beaufort]

Aimé had indeed been looking down the opposite end of the corridor and had neither heard nor seen the young woman coming. Her fall caught him by as much surprise as it caught her and as his eyes flashed in her direction, it took him a moment or two to completely register what had just happened. His eyes swept the scene, first over frazzled looking costume designer, the clothing and pelts scattered across half the corridor and last, his eyes widening with small horror, upon his score. His hand leapt to it immediately, tenderly picking up the crumpled packet of papers. He smoothed it out gently over his knee and winced slightly as he noticed a small footprint now emblazoned on the cover. He had always been very protective of his scripts and was now mentally kicking himself for leaving it on the floor.

He sighed slightly as he rolled up the packet and stuck it into his back pocket. Things did not seem to be going the way he wanted them to today. He squatted down beside the young woman, pushing his curly bangs out of his eyes. "Er, are you all right?" he asked her uncertainly as he picked up one of the pelts and handed it to her.

[Le Fantome]

Though Odette had managed to sit herself up in at least a half erect position, she had subconciously decided to be stubborn against the fates and moved no further. Instead, she sat muttering to herself on the floor, looking around at her beautiful fabrics askew about the hall. When she finally took the time to look at the other man, he was tenderly smoothing out the cause of her fall with great care. Just lovely, she thought. I'm so glad everyone cares about eash other. She was in a rather sour mood.

Still stubbornly fighting what she considered the rest of the world, she assessed the damage around her. None of the pelts seemed damaged, but she would have to carefully inspect them later. As she was about to reach for a brightly colored pelt close in proximity, the man, to her surprise, knelt down and handed her one instead. "Er, are you all right?" he asked.

"Why yes, just peachy," she responded bitterly. "I'm so happy that I managed to slip on whatever that was and to be on the floor right now is just lovely. It's not like I have better things to do. After all, attending to Miss Primma Donna's every wish and whim is what I love to do all day long!" She was clearly being sarcastic, though she wasn't exactly sure why she was taking her anger out on this complete stranger. After a moment, she had calmed and indead felt bad for what she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." She slowly stood up and sighed at the mess around, knowing it would all have to be stacked up again.

[Aimé Olivier Beaufort]

Aimé frowned slightly. The last thing he wanted to be doing right now was talking to a girl who seemed to be just as frustrated with life as he was. He observed her a bit resentfully as she whined to him about the Prima Donna's high expectations. He did not interrupt her. She clearly needed this venting process and he was quite sure that he personally had nothing to do with it.

Sure enough, he received an apology almost immediately following her outburst.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

"You're welcome." he sighed, continuing to help her clear up the mess of costumes and fabric that were strewn across the corridor. "And it was my fault, really. That was my score you slipped on." he said, pulling the rolled up packet out of his back pocket and gesturing at it before tucking it safely into his jeans once again. "I left it on the floor by my feet. I would have warned you, if I had seen you coming but..." The distant laughter of the ballerinas echoed down the hallway. Looked like nothing was going to go according to plan that day. "I was preoccupied."

[Le Fantome]

Odette attempted to keep her bitterness at bay; after all, she was greatful that he was helping her. One by one the fabrics were picked up as he continued to talk. When he pulled out his score from his back pocket, she shot it a momentary glare, but then sighed. So he was an actor...She had probably made contact with him before for one costume or another, but she never paid much attention to whom exactly things were for.

"I would have warned you, if I had seen you coming but..." The faint sound of giddy ballerinas made it's way down the hall. "I was preoccupied." Her bitterness was back. It was clear that he was disappointed that their encounter was depriving him of the opportunity to, ahm, get to know a few ballerinas more, and Odette was not a fan of his type. Still, she made great efforts to at least be polite. She assumed their conversation could be over shortly and then they could both be happy doing what they wanted.

"Yes, well it wasn't entirely your fault. I wasn't paying much attention either. What with all these bolts stacked up I wasn't able to see where I was going and just assumed..." She paused. "Well I guess it just goes to show that you should never assume anything." She stacked up a few more bolts and pretty soon her arms were already full, much tot he disappointment of the fabric still laying on the floor.

[Aimé Olivier Beaufort]

I'll say. Aimé thought to himself at her last words. He folded up a few more lengths of fabric, trying not to look too longingly at a few of the ballerinas as they giggled and pranced down the corridor. He shook his head roughly and turned back to the young woman to hand her the last of the fabric. He stopped when he noticed how difficult it already seemed for her to be carrying what she had, and he wondered how on earth she had been able to carry all of it by herself.

"Here, let me help you." he sighed, taking a few of the folded bolts from her arms. It was clearly an afternoon meant for his displeasure, and he might as well embrace it while he could. "Where were you taking these to?" he asked her.

[Le Fantome]

Odette made no attempt to mask her displeasure as she distastefully watched the man stare longingly at several young ballerina's flitting down the hall. Men these days. They were all the same; all looking for one thing and caring for nothing more than to get inside someone's pants. It was disgusting, really. But Odette was in no mood to argue the point across, so she kept her scornful comments to herself and instead focused on futiley attempting to stack another roll of fabric into her arms. After messing with it for a good minute, she gave up hope and let it be. Much to her surprise, however, the young man offered to help and lightened the load in her arms.

"Er...Thank you," she said, still very much in shock. She had been too preoccupied with her own judgements and problems that she had assumed he would just stack her up and let her be. Again, she made note to stop assuming things.

"Where were you taking these to?"

"Well I was actually headed down to the costume room, as the fabrics might suggest, Monsieur...?" She paused, realizing she didn't know what to call him. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe I caught a name."