Felicie: Ballerina! Me too!

Camille: (laughs) Reality check, little rat! You're nothing. I'm a star! You're just orbiting around me.

(CLICK!)

Camille: What's that? Have you stolen something from me?

Felicie: No.

Camille: Show me! What is it?

Felicie: It's mine, and it's precious.

Camille: Oh! (chuckles)

(music box plays sweet tune)

Camille: I'm sure. Fetch!

Felicie: No! (gasps)

Camille: Oops!

Felicie: Oh! Oh!

Camille: (laugh)

Postman: A letter for Madame Regine Le Haut and Mademoiselle Camille from the Opera. Hmm!
Handmade paper! Embossed! Blue ink!

Felicie: (grunts)

Postman: Oh, how rude! Children today have no manners!

Felicie: (sighs)

(girls giggle)

Janitor: Give me that! (grunts) You are not Camille Le Haut!

Felicie: Of course I am.

Janitor: No, you're not! This time I call the police!

Felicie: Police? Police? Why? No!

Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil: (sings operatically) La la la la... What's going on here?

Janitor: Um, she says she's Camille Le Haut.

Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil: Hmm... Are you Camille Le Haut?

Felicie: Uh... yes?

Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil: Hmm... (laughs) She IS Camille Le Haut! (laughs) Return to your post, my
friend.

Janitor: Alright, please yourselves.

Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil: Welcome, Miss Le Haut! Charmed! [kiss felicie's hand]

Felicie: Charmed!

Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil: I am Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil, director of the Opera. You are here
because your mother serves the best prime rib in Paris. Oh! I hope you dance as well.

Felicie: Of course.

(bell rings)

Felicie: (yelps and groans)

Merante: You're not a dancer, are you?

Felicie: Yes, I am!

Merante: Who would've thought? Return to your class!

Felicie: OK!

Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil: Oh, greatest ballet master of all time! Oh, most talented choreographer
in the universe and beyond! He is handsome! He is elegant! He is strong! He is powerful! He is the man!

Merante: You want something from me?

Auguste Emmanuel Vaucorbeil: How did you know? Yes! I have enrolled Camille Le Haut in your class.

Merante: (groans) Thank you.

Felicie: Hi! Hello! OK. Super. I'm Felicie!

Nora: Felicie?

Felicie: Uh, no, no, no! No, sorry. I'm f-friendly, ever so friendly. And my name is Camille.

Nora: OK. I'm Nora, but everyone calls me Nora. That's the name that goes with my face. (laughs) Hey,
you should warm up!

Felicie: Warm up?

Nora: Oh, my! That is crazy! I'm guessing you're new, my darling.

Felicie: You can tell that because...

(girls whimper)

Felicie: (gasps) Who is that?

Dora: You are joking, right? It's Louis Merante, ballet master, world-famous choreographer, the man
who performed the most fouettés ever in a single solo.

Felicie: Fou-whats?

Dora: Turns. Really difficult turns.

Nora: Eighteen in total, and right after, he vomited!

Merante: Silence, mam'selle!  First position!

Felicie: Uh...

Merante: Second!

Felicie: What?

Merante: Third!

Felicie: Uh...

Merante: Fourth, and rest in fifth!

Felicie: Huh? Oh!

Merante: Today is an important day. I've gathered all the coryphées together  to audition for the part of
Clara in 'The Nutcracker', which will debut on Christmas Eve and star Rosita Mauri.

Dora: Rosita? Rosita Mauri? Oh, I don't believe it!

Merante: (clear throat) So every girl in this room has a chance to dance in my new ballet, except you.
You've all worked hard, except you! You are here because of talent and guts.

Felicie: Except me.

Merante: Exactly! Starting tomorrow, we'll have an audition. One of you will be eliminated each day. So,
tomorrow, little rich girl, no matter what strings you pulled to get here, that will be you!

Felicie: But my mother serves the best prime rib in Paris!

Merante: I am a vegetarian.

Felicie: (gulps)

[Felicie waiting victor in the bridge]

Felicie: First, second. Second. No, second, third. Third? Third? Third, fourth.

Victor: (pants)

Felicie: Fifth? Fifth. First. Second.

Victor: Hello!

Felicie: Third. Third?

Victor: Bonjour! (chuckles)

Felicie: Fifth, sixth.

Victor: How are you?

Felicie: There is no sixth.

Victor: Well, I'm happy to see you too.

Felicie: Oh, Victor!

Victor: Hello! I have so many things to tell you!

Felicie: Me too.

Victor: (sighs) Wow! This time, it's really broken.

Felicie: Can you do something?

Victor: Don't worry, I've got it. I am the winner of our little bet.

Felicie: (chuckles) What bet?

Victor: You know, the one about who gets their dream first. I am going to be an inventor!

Felicie: Really?

Victor: You're just jealous that, in 24 hours, I've got a job with the man who is building that!

Felicie: Did you bump your head when you fell in the boat?

Victor: Nope! Yesterday, after you got separated, I just took a quiet walk around the streets of Paris. It
was all good, totally good. I was really not scared at all. I met some charming locals who helped me find
my way. And you will never believe this, but then I stumbled on a Breton bar and I got a big, warm and
friendly welcome. They welcomed me like a brother, a son, a nephew! And then I met this super guy
called Mathurin. We talked, we laughed, we danced together, and then my new best buddy and I
decided to head home to his place. And you are never, ever going to believe this but he works in the
atelier of Gustave Eiffel, the nicest, best and most magnetic inventor in the whole world! I am going to
be the most famous engineer's right-hand man. Oh, and I've gone back to square one with my chicken
wings. I am now working on combining air velocity with fibrous catchment systems. I'm trying a kite.

Felicie: Wow! I made progress too!

Victor: Really?

Felicie: I'm a dancer. Yes! Yes! A student at the Opera. And soon I'm going to be an étoile at the Opera
de Paris.

Victor: You, a dancer at the Opera? OK, and may I know how you came to be at the Opera?

Felicie: By the door, I saw some lights and...

Victor: Liar!
Felicie: OK! It's Camille Le Haut, the one who broke my music box.

Victor: Liar!

Felicie: She wanted to apologise.

Victor: Liar!

Felicie: Let me finish.

Victor: Liar, liar...

Felicie: She gave me the letter that allowed her into the Opera.

Victor: When you're lying, your nose shivers.

Felicie: You're exhausting!

Victor: (chuckles)

Felicie: I stole her identity.

Victor: What? You stole it? Are you insane?

(wind blows)

Victor: Whoa! Whoa! Uh-oh! Whoa!

Felicie: Victor!

Victor: (screams and grunts)

Felicie: Victor! Victor!

Victor: Whoa!

Felicie: Victor! Come back! Don't leave!

Victor: I'LL BE BACK!

Felicie: Again?

[Felicie in opera]

Felicie: Oh! Yeah! Whoo!

Merante: And to finish, the splits.

Felicie: (grunts)

Merante: Hmm?

(CRACK!)

Felicie: (chuckles)

Merante: Now rise.