Disclaimer: Don't own it.
XXX
After one hour of rehearsal Christine was exhausted, but Erik was relentless.
"Again, Christine. It's still not right!" He played the opening, and mustering up all her energy, Christine began to sing.
"Poor fool, he makes me laugh!"
"No, no, no!" Erik roared, bringing his hands crashing down on the keys in a series of harsh notes. "It's all wrong! The countess is poised, snobbish, self-assured, not sweet and gentle! Again!"
Fighting the urge to refuse, Christine started again.
"Poor fool, he makes me laugh!"
"Stop!" he exclaimed, jumping up from the bench and striding toward her. Roughly he adjusted her posture, lifting her chin and moving back her shoulders. Returning to the piano, he wordlessly played the introduction again.
"Poor fool, he makes me laugh!"
Groaning, Erik waved his hand, signaling for her to stop.
"Maybe we should just let it rest, maestro. Perhaps I'm better suited as the page boy this time. This seems much more like the kind of roll for Carlotta."
Erik winced, and rubbed the back of his neck. Part of him wanted to protest and insist that Christine had the lead, and part of him knew that she was right, and that, no matter how well Christine could sign and act, there was no substitute for real snobby, self-centered and shallow personality, all of which Carlotta had in abundance.
Relenting, Erik nodded. "Perhaps you are right." He said simply. "Although, having no songs to practice will cut our time dramatically, I'm afraid."
Inwardly cheering, Christine nodded, moving to stand closer to Erik and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I guess we'll just have to make due with working on your "Magnum Opus"."
He nodded slowly. "And your 'lines', as they are. Your roll may be silent, but there is still much to learn in the way of movement and mannerisms. Shall we?"
XXX
Forty five minutes later, Christine was sipping at some lemon tea while Erik sorted through pile after pile of music, red ink catching her eyes as she tried to read the lyrics without being too obvious. From what she could catch, the opera seemed to be about a man loved by everyone who women adored and all wanted to marry. He also seemed to have a friend who was with him in almost every scene, called Pasarino. Christine was intrigued.
Finally appearing to have everything in order, Erik sat upon the piano bench, shook out his hands, and began to speak.
"This opera, my dear, is filled with the most passion and longing you will ever hear. It is about the desperate desires of all mankind to be lost in the joys of the flesh and experience true acceptance for who-and what-they are. It is about the ability of one woman to look past all she thinks she knows of a man, and see who he truly is inside, and her desire to know him as a lover and give him the companionship he's never known or thought he wanted: that of a partner, a lover, not just a woman with who to share the most base of human delights with.
"It is about lust, arousal, betrayal, passion, anger, and above all, true love in the most strange and unexpected of places."
Christine stared, awe struck for several moments.
"I…see. And, what is this opera called?"
Erik smiled a most cynical grin.
"Don Juan Triumphant."
