Mysterious Happenings: Chapter 26

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     Even as Mel went through the day, her mind seemed to be in a fog of worry over Cheyanne.  Was her friend back?  Was she safe?  Had The Phantom of the Opera really taken her?  Had she gone willingly, or had the man--the ghost stolen her?  She could not keep from wondering all of these things even as she went about her newly acquired daily schedule.  She could not concentrate on her dancing or even Meg's cheerful chattering beside her.  She had a strange sense that something was wrong with Cheyanne.  Was her best friend hurt or in pain?
      Mel was almost so worried for Cheyanne that she did not perform that night, but she did not want to make Meg concerned for her and she was only allotted one night of not performing by Madame Giry.   So she went out on stage that night, her thoughts polluted with fret for Cheyanne's wellbeing.  As she was doing a pirouette, however, she realized that she had turned the wrong way and thudded into a girl behind her.  Heat washed over her face, and she could not bring herself to look anywhere but straight at the ground.  What was wrong with her?  Nearly seventeen years as a dancer, and never once had she made a mistake like that that had affected another dancer.  Never.  Oh, what would Madame Giry say to her?  Would she fire her?  
     She only stopped her fretting when she realized she had not moved since her collision.  The red-haired girl behind her decided to give her a shove in the direction that she was meant to move.
     "Watch where you're going, girl," The red-head muttered under her breath.  
      While that action was probably mean to be helpful, Mel thought it was a little rude.  It was not as if she were some beginner who needed to be directed by the older girls.  She suddenly felt angry, and wanted to rush off of the stage and run to her room and stay locked in there for a couple of weeks.  Or years.  She never messed up at something like this.  It was the one thing she was good at.  While she was not the best at arithmetic or history or anything school-related, she was able to dance.  And she had just proved that she was not good at that either.  She was not a singer or an actor like Cheyanne or a wonderful artist like Russ.  She was a failure in every sense of the word.  Tears filled her eyes, but she forced herself to continue the number.  
     The second the music was killed, Mel ran off the stage, ignoring Meg's quiet questioning.  Suddenly she ran into something solid and warm.  A person?  She blinked through her tears and was unhappy to discover Madame Giry standing in front of her; shiny cane in her hand, her gray-black hair tied tight in a braided bun, the usual scowl on her face a little nastier-looking.  She gulped.  Would she even have a job anymore after the imminent discussion?
     "Mademoiselle Melody Betrinoux, I trust that you realize that you ruined my entire number out there, correct?"
     Mel swallowed, hard.  Nodded.
     "AND DO YOU REALIZE THAT YOU LIKELY RUINED THE ENTIRE PERFORMANCE TONIGHT, GIRL?" She shouted, saliva sputtering from her mouth as she screamed.
    "Y-yes, Madame Giry…"
     "And do you understand that I have every right to ask you to leave my ballet troupe immediately?"
     "Yes, M-Madame Giry.  You don't understand, my mind has been…on other things lately, and I promise it will never happen again, ever, I pr-"
    "Stop right there, girl.  I never said that I actually was going to dismiss you.  I only ask that you are far more careful next time.  I do not care if your mind has been on other things.  That is disrespectful.  A dancer's mind needs only to be on dance as she is dancing.   Otherwise, I do not think she is a dancer.  Are you a dancer, Mademoiselle Betrinoux?"
     "Y-yes, Madame Giry."
     "Then I will not have you thinking of anything besides dance as you dance!  Now you shall have extra hours of rehearsals from now on until I am certain that you will not make a mistake ever again.  The next mistake you make, I assure you that you are dismissed from my ballet troupe.  No go to your room.  I do not need you ruining the rest of the opera tonight."
     "Yes, Madame Giry.  T-thank you Madame Giry," Mel offered, not able to control the tears running down her cheeks as she ran up to her dormitory room.