Finding the Beauty Underneath

V

"When I was younger, Father would play his violin every night for me and Mother. He was very good at it. Mother would always sing along. She sang beautifully. When I became a few years older, Father urged my mother to teach me how to sing. . .Let's just say I wasn't very good."

"You were a bad singer?" Erik asked.

"Yes, and I still am."

"Hm. Well, anyway, on with your story."

"Yes, so I tried many things to please Father. Unfortunately, I was not good at singing, dancing, or even acting." I stopped as Erik gave a snort. "What is so funny?" I asked.

"Not good at acting? You deceived multiple people into believing you were a man today."

"Well, that was different! And I acted terribly today anyway. I froze up many times and could barely come up with a name." Erik merely chuckled. "Stop interrupting me." I said with a laugh. "Anyway, Father made me try those things because he and Mother worked here at the Opera Populaire. They hoped I could join them and work here one day. When I was twelve, Mother became very ill. She soon died, leaving Father and me behind. When she was gone, Father put much less pressure on me to excell at singing and such considering I had lost my teacher.

"Father became very distressed. He stopped playing the violin every night. He continued to play here at work, but never at home anymore. He also took me to the Populaire much less frequently. He, Mother, and I would visit this place together often until she died. I suppose I didn't realize how much I enjoyed Father's violin playing. I craved the sound of his playing. The sound made me feel so. . .safe. I realized if Father wouldn't play the violin, I would.

"So one night while Father was out of the house for a drink,-he started drinking a lot since Mother died-I took his violin from his room and played it. This was a big deal for me because I was sternly forbidden from going into my father's room, let alone even touching his precious instrument. At first, I wasn't very good at playing. I wasn't terrible, just not good. I improved a lot over the years. Every time Father would go out to drink, I would practice playing the violin and would put it back in him room before he returned."

"Your father never noticed?" Erik asked.

"No. Not only was I extremely careful, but Father would be too drunk to notice if I hadn't tuned the violin properly or if I hadn't put in back in the exact place he had left it. This went on a few times a week for a few years.

"Then, two days ago, Father told me that Monsieur Lefevre had sold the opera house to two owners and that there would be auditions for singers, dancers, and musicians. I wondered why only men could be musicians. I made the bold decision that I would pretend to be a man and audition as a musician. I didn't want a job here or anything. I just wanted toprove that a woman could be just as good a musician as a man. I did it for the principle."

"Of course," said Erik.

"I didn't think I was spectacular at playing the violin or anything. . .I just wanted to prove something to myself." I sighed. "Obviously, I did not think my plan through very well. I stole some of my Father's clothes and violin and walked here the day of the auditions."

"Today." interjected Erik.

"Yes, today. I then auditioned under the pseudonym of Claude Renard. Once I finished my performance, I decided that should to get home as soon as possible before my father noticed I had gone." I looked down at my lap. "Just before I reached the exit, someone stopped me. That person turned out to be my father. I bowed in an attempt to show some respect, yet get away from him quickly. Unfortunately, this made the cap I was wearing fall off and it revealed my true identity. . .Father didn't take too kindly to this." I sighed and paused briefly before saying, "I'm so stupid. He took me outside and. . .well. . .you can fill in the gaps." I said as I motioned to the bloodstains on my shirt. "I ran into an alley and soon found out it was a dead end. I leaned against a wall to catch my breath and it then gave away and I fell on you. I must say I am glad I met you, Erik, and that I came back to the Populaire. Thank you for letting me stay in your home tonight. I don't know where I would be if I had to go home tonight and face Father."