Carmen (Opening)

Georges Bizet

Some songs let out bright hues.

Others like this one, were produced shades so dark you couldn't be sure if they were even visible to the human eye.

Helia had once read about how it's possible that some people saw colours in a completely different way to others. It was only a theory, but she was quite sure that the colour this song was producing was far richer than anything that she herself could see.

And with one last stroke she closed the song. The colours faded into the air as the slight tension fell away from her body.

Setting down the violin, she began to rearrange her music sheets, carefully adjusting them to a balanced equilibrium which would allow a simple glance to see exactly what note to play next. The sheets fumbled together as papers were bound to do, and as always the shuffling of music sheets took far longer than it should.

Her fingers brushed beneath the title of a new song, allowing it to register in her mind and the tune to seep into her mind's ears, preempting the strokes she would soon make with her bow.

"Lea?"

There was her nickname, pet name, easier name to say that the five letter word she had been Christened. One that she didn't particularly like but was almost always called, but that was a simple fact of life. And that one syllable sent on a typhoon of awkward motion. 

Her hand jerked, long fingers disturbing the balance of the black metal stand, sending it toppling to the ground with a crash. Her breath caught sharply in her throath, head spinning around while her hands fumbled to save the fallen music stand.

In the doorway of the room stood her father. Tall, slimly built with slicked back hair and a sharp suit, both in tones of black and grey.

He glanced to the fallen stand, eyebrows furrowed. "I did knock. Twice. No answer."

"It's fine, I was just... Surprised. That's all."

Running a quivering hand through her hair, Helia pulled the black stand upright and readjusted the papers, They were out of order again and one of two had folded in on themselves. Placing these damaged ones on her knee, the one on top being her previous song, the opening from Carmen, Helia pressed her hand along it in a failed attempt to smoothen it out. Funnily enough, when things are even slightly tainted, they can never quite return to how they once were.

Her father remained leaning in the doorway, still frowning slightly.

"Madalaide rang me on my break. She'd like you to pop over about a thing in the Opera House, something to do with ballet maybe, I don't really know. Well, when I say that she obviously wants you to play the violin, but you know how she is. Difficult to understand."

Helia glanced up, eyes wide. Madalaide, of course. Only her violin instructor would be able to make her father interrupt her music practice.

"Pop over... Now?" her hand reached to her violin on instinct.

Her father only nodded, before fishing in his pocket for his keys. "It's kind of urgent, I think."

"Are you sure you're able to bring me? Don't you have to get back to work?"

He smiled. "The case closed early. Nothing to worry about."

With that confirmation the hand flashed to the violin and its case, which slotted in perfectly and with ease. Clothing was not an issue, her mother had always made sure Helia looked fully presentable in every situation. Just in case, she would insist, the press are always on the look out for your father.

And so she flew down the stairs after her father, plaid scarf and long coat hiding a dress with black tights, mahogany violin case in her hand.

•••

The Royal Opera House in London had to be one of Helia's favourite places.

While Paris may be her ideal space to play, she had visited other Opera Houses in Britian and even Ireland's National Opera House, but none had come close to compare in her eyes.

Perhaps it was the aged stone at the enterance or the old world style interior, but something about the place made her feel far more at home than even her own house.

And yet as she sat in the car with the mahogany case on her lap, she felt relunctant to go in. So, like anyone, she procanstrated.

"Did you win or lose the case?"

Her father's eyes were fixed on the roads as her swivelled around in search of a parking space. "Won. Of course. Found not guilty."

"And was he?"

His pale eyes flickered over to her. "Was he what?"

"Not guilty. Innocent."

Her father shrugged. "There wasn't enough evidence to prove either way really. It may be appealed of course, but one step at a time I suppose. The prosection rushed it, I think."

"Yeah, but was he actually innocent?"

"Do you even know what the case was about, or are you just trying to avoid going in?"

Helia bit her tongue as he called her out. Her father smirked a little.

"It was bit of a breaking and entering kind of thing, not much of importance stolen. Police recovered it being sent out to a buyer, some jewellery. The kid involved had pretty rich parents and wouldn't settle for anything but the best you have. They decided that the a major figure in one of the Nation's biggest law firms was what they needed obviously. I mean, he would have gotten couple of years, tops. And they paid an absolutely whopping sum for it."

"I thought you were staying out of the courts these days?"

"Yeah well, you know how it is. Jobs like this vary."

Helia hummed in response.

The car had rolled to a stop minutes ago, and the conversation had run dry. Helia's finger nails scraped faintly against the wood of the violin case.

"You want to get out now?" a slight smile split a crooked line across her father's face.

Helia forced a smile, but it ended up being little more than a tilt on one side of her mouth. She took a breath before sliding out of the car door, followed by her father.

The ground was crisp beneath her thin shoes, and a shiver rocketed up her spine as her feet pattered towards the steps leading to the huge Opera House doors. Of course, they soon took a detour to a side enterance, one used only by preformers or special guests. That was where she naturally felt most comfortable, no longer feeling the pressure to call into the front desk if she knew Madalaide was inside.

The door shut with a muffling sound as her father followed her down the corridor, headed towards one of the smaller theatres the violin instructure liked to practice in. It was early on a Saturday; no competition for stage space and plenty of room for practice. As she hurried through the corridors they were empty but for the photographs and awards hanging on the walls.

Eventually, the suitable door was in sight and Helia pushed through, one finger balancing it open for her strolling father.

It was no secret that Helia's father liked to listen to her violin music. He had come from Ireland, not London, and to his mind the neighbouring country of his birth was the real home of music. His attempts at getting her to play traditional 'fiddle' music were only occassionslly successful, as perfecting her preformance and exam songs on the violin were far more important that his casually whims. Still, his musical heritage was what had kept her at the instrument from a young age, and brought her to where she was now.

"Hi, Madalaide," he greeted, while Helia simply smiled and nodded to her music teacher.

Madalaide was a small, somewhat stumpy woman with an unidentifiable accent, probably due to the many countries she had spent time in during the preformances of her youth. She was a musician and even more so a singer, but these days she had reclined into teaching at various music colleges and mentoring various young musicians throughout London at phenomenal prices. And while her standards were high, their were few people whose opinions Helia valued more.

"Mr Montgomery, Lea, glad you could get here so quickly," she purred, voice still rich after years of Opera. "Though I hate to bring you such unfortunate news at this short time. Our production you see, the original piece with the Royal Academy of Ballet, has been so unlucky as to lose our lead violinist. A family death, poor soul. He had to return to Austria until God knows when-"

But Helia had long lost track Madalaide's spiel. Her mind had skipped ahead; surely she must be taking the place of one of the other violinists in the orchestra, allowing them to step up. The production was surely set to take place within less than a few months, and God knows how she could keep up with rehersals and exam preparation in school this year...

"And you see, at this sort of notice, the only person I could possibly think of to fulfill this role so quickly was Lea. The lead violinist is such a huge role in the orchestra you see-"

And at that point Helia had realised she had missed something. She shot a frantic look at her father, whose eyebrows were raised in present surprise and his head tilted in an encouraging nod.

"So I realise this is a lot to take in, a massive undertaking and yet I can think of no one better than to Lea to do it. Today I was just thinking of running through the whole thing. There's an element of preformance too, which will have to be heavily adjusted now that the lead violinist is a young lady as opposed to a middle aged man..."

Helia's mind flickered away once more as a shadow caught the corner of her eye. A figure cut a darker shadow up in the back of the balcony, facing the three. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to capture him, but he drifted away almost as quickly as she had spotted him. A member of staff sweeping the place out, surely.

"If you want to stay in the café while I run over the production, Mr Montgomery."

A muffled agreement of "of course, naturally, thank you" came from her father as he slipped out pf the room, leaving Helia alone with her instructure.

"Now, Lea. This preformance. Why don't you sit down."

Obediently, Helia sat, balancing the violin case on her knees.

"This won't be your first preformance as lead violinist, of course, it's just this one is a little different."

So she was due to directly take the old violinist's place, it seemed. Helia's breath caught in her throath, but she held back, composed.

"The idea is that the musicians directly interact with the dancers on stage. It's a different approach but my dear friend Thomas from the College Drama Society helped with the writing. It's still very classy."

Clearing her throath, Helia finally spoke. "So what would my role involve exactly? Playing on stage instead of in the choir pit would be fine."

"It's a little more than that. I have a copy of the revised script," Madalaide paused to pull a bundle of sheets out of her nearby bag. "Your role would be both that of a romantic and a villian, which is rather difficult. We were thinking of using costumes to help, of course. The difficulty is to truly embody both roles."

Helia flicked through the scripts as Madalaide continued.

"Tobias from Austria had no problem with the villian part, he was almost made for it, but you'll need to really work at embodying your character. It's quite the opposite of you, I'm afraid."

Helia knew what she meant. The character was surely loud and bold, confident and proud. Any villian would be. And yet she had to embody this. She had to take the role.

"It should be a lovely piece though. I know you have some exams coming up, but it'll all be over in less than two months time."

Two months. How on earth could she be ready in that time.

But still, Madalaide had faith in her.

"It could really be a big break you know. For all of us. We're sort of secretly hoping to take it far beyond this stage you see. Worldwide audiences. All sorts of potential for your future."

And that caught her. Hook, line and sinker.

"I'll do it," Helia nodded. "Of course. Of course I'll do it."

Madalaide smiled. "I knew you would."

•••

The next hour trickled away with Madalaide talking of things like plot and character and atmosphere, Helia drifting in and out of focus now and again.

But before long she was relieved and left to go find her father.

It was not even early afternoon, and Helia couldn't help feeling inclined to take a wander around the theatre to pass a little time alone as her instructure bustled out for another cup of coffee.

The theatre she had spent the last hour in was small and secluded, yet pleasant. It contained all the velvet cushioning and rich red curtains of the larger ones, and intricate balconies rose in turrets pver the stage. It was the stairs of these turrets she found herself climbing, soon leaning on the railing overhanging the stage.

It didn't take too much imagination to picture the scene. Rich dresses, the noise of dulled chatter and bustling skirts, excitement at the thought of a movement behind the curtain. The theatre would be thronged, of course, and yet up here a little quietness would prevail. She would be secluded with her pair of binoculars and perhaps the quiet company of a relative or friend, who would know better than to disturb her as the music began to play and the audience fell to a hush.

And suddenly the spell was broken, with the click of a camera.

Helia spun around, so quickly she almost lost her balance.Her eyes flew wide as a camera came into her vision, big and black and suddenly dropping amd rushing towards her, all in a flurry of motion.

"You okay there?" a voice asked.

Helia's vision grew clearer and she took a step back, away from the tall figure before her. The camera dangled around his neck, over a slightly worn looking jacket and jumper, with a thick tousle of dark hair styled in a surprisingly neat way when the rest of his appearance was taken into account. Bright eyes flashed to her, intense yet smiling, and she couldn't quite pinpoint their exact colour. 

"I - I'm fine," she gasped, as she was prone to in any situation. "What are you doing?"

He lifted the camera with a lazy smile. "Taking a photo. Though I know exactly who you are, Ms Lead Violinist."

Helia took another step back, so that she was leaning almost danerously over the balcony's railings. Her pulse was so quick under her skin she couldn't hope to count it. 

"Careful there. It's all right, I'm safe. I just overheard. Photographer, see?" he tapped the camera. "I'm doing a college project; Thomas got me in here. I'm an absolute teacher's pet in theatre." 

"So," Helia said carefully. "You're a student?"

He nodded. "I can make you a form to sign if you like. Violinists tend to be wonderfully photogenic when playing, and these little theatres have this really specific lighting... You're a big improvement on that old git from Austria though, I have to say. Much more aesthetically pleasing for the project."

It was the first time Helia could properly take in his voice - and it was almost ridiculously deep. Deep and British - so British he could have been mocking the accent. It was near to unpleasant to listen to, and yet something deep within the voice made it bearable.

And the smirk. The original lazy smile had transformed into something far more devilish and sure, a smirk that both set her on edge and drew her in, like a moth to a lamp. 

Choosing to ignore the last bit of his explanation, she softly attempted to further the conversation. "You're a photography student?"

He nodded as a phone buzzed, feeling in his pocket for the source of the noise. "Well, media." A sigh escaped him as his eyes flickered over the screen. "Girlfriend. Pain in the A-R-S-E sometimes." 

Helia's face heatened at the word girlfriend, as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn't. But that was ridiculous of course; simply talking to someone for a few minuted meant nothing in the world and it was foolish for anyone to think otherwise.

"Don't you mean arse?" she asked instead.

The smirk panned out into a grin. "Gave up cursing for New Years." 

"It's October now. Going pretty strong."

"I keep my promises," he said, glancing at the phone again with a grimace. "I better go. I'll be seeing a lot of you in the next few weeks I hope." 

Helia smiled, with a nod.

"Raymond Winters, by the way."

His arm was outstretched, and Helia tentatively took his hand to shake. 

"Helia Montgomery. Most people call me Lea."

"I don't think I will. What a waste of a wonderful name." 

And with that he swept out, the colours fading out with him, and the final notes of their opening song falling to a hush.