Erika pushed open the door and heard a sharp voice calling, "Slow down! This is the dance of nymphs, not racehorses!" The young woman smiled to herself and saw the owner of the voice standing in front of a group of ballerinas. Madame Giry has not lost her edge, I see, Erika thought.

         All around them, wood covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. A piano stood off to the side and various barres either stood against or were anchored to the wall. An odd assortment of chairs stood off to the left side of the room. The ballerinas were in the center of the room, clothed in deep green maillots* and tutus. Their instructor was thin with sharp, pronounced facial features and wore a black dress. She had a cane in her hand, which she used to keep the beat of the music.

         "Again!" Madame Giry ordered. "Margo, feet in posi-" Suddenly, the instructor caught sight of Erika and stopped. "Keep rehearsing, girls," she said, giving them a glare. With that, she walked over to Erika.

         "What are you doing here?" Madame Giry whispered, her eyes narrowed.

         "I have a new job now," Erika replied in a whisper.

         "Which is?"

         "Your accompanist," Erika replied, her voice turning to a grumble. Her gaze flicked to the curious ballerinas, who were all either stealing glances at the pair or just outright staring.

         Madame Giry said nothing for a time, then whispered, "What?!"

        "I was reassigned by the new managers. Do I start now?"

        Madame Giry took a deep breath. Her dark brown eyes were fixed on Erika's masked face. Then she let out her deep breath and replied, "Yes, you start now. Get warmed up while we continue rehearsal."

        Before Erika got more than a step, Madame Giry leaned over and whispered, "The walls have ears. Mention nothing of your past, or you may anger him." With that, the ballet instructor walked back towards her "Ballet Rats."

        Erika rolled her eyes and strode over to the piano. She needn't mention that to me, she thought, frowning a bit as she sat down at the piano bench. Of all of the people here, I would be the least likely to utter a word. Erika stretched her fingers out over the ivory keys and played a scale.

         "Who do you think she is, Margo?" Erika heard a girl whisper. "She's an odd one, keeping her face covered like that!"

         Erika chanced a sideways glance at the chorus girls. She saw one look at her, then turn to the girl on her right.

         "Perhaps she feels protected from prying eyes," Margo replied to her companion. She then glanced back and gave Erika a kind smile.

         The accompanist quickly turned her eyes back to the sheet music before her. Everything seems in tune, she thought with a nod. Erika looked towards Madame Giry. The instructor gave her a glance of acknowledgement and called, "From the top!"

-----------------

A few hours later...

        Erika stood up and picked up her lunch bag. The chorus girls streamed out of the room, talking and laughing, often casting glances over their shoulders at the accompanist.

        "What do you think she's hiding under that mask?" one brunette ballerina whispered to one of her companions.

        "Must be a terrifying sight if she covers it up like she does," came the reply.

        "I wish Madame Duflay would come back," another girl piped up. There was a general chorus of nods.

        "Twenty minutes only, girls!" Madame Giry said, her eyes narrowed and her hands on her cane. The girls shot out of the room as quickly as they could.

         With a sigh, Erika left the room, her pace significantly slower than that of her counterparts. It is not like they want my company... the young woman thought to herself. She followed the girls down the hall to a small room with long tables and benches. The male chorus was already seated and chowing down when the others arrived.

         Erika glanced at the girls. Some of them smiled kindly at her, but the rest either gave her blank looks or smirked at her before turning to whisper something to the girl next to them. Erika gave the room a once-over and realized that she could find no empty space on the benches.

        Suddenly, Margo scooted over and patted the bench beside her. The young woman was slightly tanned with shiny, black hair and was easily the shortest person in the room. Erika returned her gaze. Should I go? she wondered. Before the masked musician could even take a step, the seat opening vanished due to another girl sitting down. Erika received a pointed glare from the seat occupant. Margo gave Erika a saddened smile. With a sigh, the latter left the room and started back the way she had come.

         "Erika, is that you?" a voice asked from behind her. The young woman turned and was greeted by the sight of a grinning Mercer with his lunch.

         "Yes," she replied, beginning to turn back around.

         "Room full?" he asked, pulling even with her.

         She nodded. "I was headed back to the dance studio to see if I could eat there. Fewer prying eyes."

         Mercer laughed. "In that case," he replied, holding out his left arm, "I can escort you there. I eat lunch in there with my mother, so I'm sure she won't mind you joining us."

         Erika glanced at his arm and narrowed her eyes. "I am able to walk by myself, thank you."

         With that, Mercer withdrew his arm and they continued on their way. Erika turned her gaze back to the hall in front of her. Her companion's smile faltered a bit, but not for long.

        "I never got the chance to ask you this but, where are you from?" Mercer asked as they approached the doorway.

         Erika said nothing as they entered the now-silent practice room.

         Madame Giry glanced over at the two from her seat on a chair off to the side of the room. Erika could have sworn she saw a small smile on the older woman's face.

         "Hello, mother!" Mercer called. He crossed the room with Erika in tow and sat down on one of the other chairs. Erika copied him. Silence remained for a minute while food was unbagged.

         "Did the managers solve the problem of our leading man?" Madame Giry asked, her gaze on the pair in front of her.

         "Yes, and you will never guess who they chose to take his place," Mercer replied, leaving his lunch untouched.

         "You know I do not like games, Mercer. Who did they choose?"

         "Christopher!"

         Madame Giry's eyes flicked towards Erika for a moment, then back to her son.

         "It is an impressive accomplishment for him," she stated.

        "Yes! Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to speak with him about it." Mercer sighed. "I wonder how he got the managers' attention."

        "You had better eat your lunch before the meal is over," Madame Giry warned. She raised an eyebrow at Erika while the young man was not looking. The younger woman glared at her.

         Silence once again ensued. Muffled chewing was the only sound in the room.

         Suddenly, footsteps pounded down the hallway. Christopher raced through the door, his breathing slightly heavy. He cocked his head a little at the sight of Erika, but his mouth was in a friendly grin.

         "You managed lunch after all!" Mercer said with laugh. He patted a chair beside him.

         Christopher nodded and walked slowly to the seat. He sat down hard and proceeded to open his pail. Erika flinched as he quickly shoved part of the meal into his mouth and chewed rapidly.

         "Having a ball with the role?" Mercer asked as Christopher slowed down.

         The blond shrugged. "When it comes to working with Carlotta, I'm not sure that would be my phrase," he muttered. Glancing at Erika, he grinned. "That is not to say that I don't enjoy the role."

         Mercer followed Christopher's gaze and turned to Erika. "You wouldn't happen to be part of this, would you?" He asked, his tone slightly teasing.

         She looked down and began to study her sandwich. Unfortunately for her, she was not off the hook.

         "Erika helped me get the role," Christopher said. His face lit up with a grin as he told the Girys of the young woman's intervention.

         "And then I got the part and she got the job," he finished. "I never got the chance to say this, so, thank you, Erika."

         The young woman felt herself blush. "It was nothing," Erika replied quietly. "You have a gift for music that should not be wasted."

         Christopher laughed a little, then his face scrunched up into a thoughtful frown.

         Voices began to grow louder in the hallway, signaling that the girls were coming back from lunch.

         "Well, I hate to leave good company," Mercer said, "but it appears that it's inevitable this time." The whole group got to its feet and the young men started out of the room.

         "See you tonight, mother!" Mercer called. "It was good to see you again, Erika!"

         Christopher smiled at the two women. The young men were soon around the corner and out of sight.

         Erika sighed a little as the girls streamed into the room. She grimaced as their ceaseless chattering entered the room with them.

         Why must they all talk at exactly the same time? Erika wondered as she stood and headed for the piano. They sound like the sideshow audiences!

         "Places, mademoiselles!" Madame Giry said firmly. All chatter ceased to exist. "Mademoiselle Erika, are you ready?

         Erika sat down quickly and placed her fingers on the keys of the piano. That done, she nodded to the ballet mistress.

         "From the top!" Madame Giry said.