James was beginning to feel like he should have foregone his formal dress and attended the Gala d'Arte in his customary tights and makeup. He had grown accustomed to attentive crowds, raucous gatherings of artists (both bohemian and bourgeoisie), and aristocratic patrons after his first three seasons as a lead actor with the Comedie Francais. But there was something about an extended night of cozying up with donors, joining hands with other artistic institutions, and being both a celebrator and a voice for the cause of the arts that made him feel stretched thin: as if he'd been asked to perform three shows in one day without rest in between.
He waited for the right moment to pause from his feigned interest in the occurrences at Madame du Ferrier's weekly salon, and by extension the world travels of the railway magnate Monsieur Augier, when he excused himself to procure some more wine. He whirled around, found himself face to face with a new face and-...good heavens, did his heart skip a beat?
"Ah, Monsieur Maire! There you are!" said the boisterous if stuffy voice of Monsieur Firmin. "May I present Christine Daae! Our new star and youngest ever leading soprano at the Opera Populaire. Miss Daae, Monsieur James Maire is the toast of the Comedie Francais. I trust you've heard of his recent triumph as Sgarnelle in 'Le Mariage force' or as Hernani-..."
But James could barely hear the formal introductions as the somewhat timid but warm smile Christine was giving him seemed to fill the air with a glowing light. He'd known of the sensational girl who'd lit up the stage seemingly from nowhere. The ingenue with the voice of an angel, but he was not ready for the full effect of seeing her up close. If anything, she was even lovelier off the stage and face to face.
"Ah, of course!" He beams. Never taking his eyes off hers, even as he takes her hands in his...the softest and warmest hands in all of Paris, no doubt.
"Enchante, Mademoiselle Daae," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "I saw you during your first run as Elissa in Hannibal, you know. You were a revelation. Your voice was more alluring than the song of the sirens, and you performed with true emotion and soul."
It's only now occurring to him that neither has let go of the other's hand.
no subject
He waited for the right moment to pause from his feigned interest in the occurrences at Madame du Ferrier's weekly salon, and by extension the world travels of the railway magnate Monsieur Augier, when he excused himself to procure some more wine. He whirled around, found himself face to face with a new face and-...good heavens, did his heart skip a beat?
"Ah, Monsieur Maire! There you are!" said the boisterous if stuffy voice of Monsieur Firmin. "May I present Christine Daae! Our new star and youngest ever leading soprano at the Opera Populaire. Miss Daae, Monsieur James Maire is the toast of the Comedie Francais. I trust you've heard of his recent triumph as Sgarnelle in 'Le Mariage force' or as Hernani-..."
But James could barely hear the formal introductions as the somewhat timid but warm smile Christine was giving him seemed to fill the air with a glowing light. He'd known of the sensational girl who'd lit up the stage seemingly from nowhere. The ingenue with the voice of an angel, but he was not ready for the full effect of seeing her up close. If anything, she was even lovelier off the stage and face to face.
"Ah, of course!" He beams. Never taking his eyes off hers, even as he takes her hands in his...the softest and warmest hands in all of Paris, no doubt.
"Enchante, Mademoiselle Daae," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "I saw you during your first run as Elissa in Hannibal, you know. You were a revelation. Your voice was more alluring than the song of the sirens, and you performed with true emotion and soul."
It's only now occurring to him that neither has let go of the other's hand.