A/N: I should probably state a stupid disclaimer now: Of course I do not own anything related to The Phantom of the Opera. I honestly don't think the original novel has a copyright, considering how many version of it exist out there! So, no worries there. I don't, however, have any claim to ALW's version, or anything found there in, including the opera Hannibal, or it's lyrics, which I have used for this chapter.

If you sue one of us, you have to sue all of us, and I don't think you're up for that, Sir ALW. Besides, phan phiction only increases interest in you little play, so I'm actually doing you a favor in profits from ticket and merchandise sales.

Chapter 8: Operatic Ambition

The morning came too soon for me. I had been blissfully asleep, dreaming of myself on the grandest stage in the world, performing for a full, enthusiastic crowd of opera goers. I danced, I sang, and I was fabulous.

At the end of my performance, a multitude of flower bouquets were thrown at my feet. They were large full bunches, many tied with ribbons. Some were surrounded in clear plastic floral wrapping and the lighting shone off of them like groups of mirrors everywhere. It was blinding in its brilliance.

Miraculously, my eyes managed to find one flower in particular. I picked it out from the entire sea of flowers and shiny wrappers-- a single, perfect rose. A rose so dark a red it was practically black.

My dream-self desperately searched the crowd to find any indication of who had thrown this beautiful blossom to my feet. Again, as if by magic, I saw who I immediately knew must be the source of this delicate bud. My eyes were not surprised to find themselves on a man, dressed entirely in black, with a vivid white mask covering his entire face, save for his mouth and chin. Two amber eyes were staring at me, almost on fire.

We locked eyes with each other. The depths of his eyes were endless. I was lost in them. So many silent words were spoken in his gaze. Time and place melted away, and we were alone again, lost once more in a familiar feeling moment that, in my sleeping state, I couldn't place.

Suddenly, an emergency bell rang out through the theatre, killing that comforting moment once more. Chaos broke loose, and the crowd that had disappeared a minute before were now painfully obvious and running about everywhere, trying to escape whatever danger was in the building. I looked to the side to find the cause for panic, and saw nothing but darkness. When I looked back, the masked man was gone, lost in the mass of people running for their lives.

I looked for a way out while still trying to locate my dark friend as the bell kept ringing shrilly onstage. I was soon panicking myself, screaming for someone to help me. The bell kept ringing in my ears, and I shut my eyes, trying to block everything out.

When my eyes opened, it was in reality and I realized the emergency bell that had killed my beautiful moment was, in fact, my alarm clock.

"Must you always ruin my best dreams?" I groggily asked the inanimate clock while punching it into silence.

In my freshly awakened state, it took me a moment to realize what I had just been dreaming about. It wasn't the success or adoration of the masses that brought in early morning smile to my face. It was Erik.

It felt so good, and so much more natural to actually think and refer to him by name. I was still thankful I had been smart enough the night before to actually ask him, instead of being dazed into silence by his once again quick and mysterious departure. I was even more grateful that he seemed to trust me enough to give me his name. Erik definitely did not seem like the all-sharing, "my-life-is-an-open-book" type of person.

I had to laugh when I thought about Meg's reaction the night before when I had shared my newest piece of mysterious stranger news. She was thrilled that I had actually completed her 'guy homework,' and was so excited for me I thought she was acting like Erik gave me a marriage proposal, instead of something as mundane as a name.

But then again, so far with Erik, nothing seemed mundane.

I blushed when I recalled the way he had touched me. It was completely innocent by all accounts and standards. But, still. . . . I had felt this real electricity and feeling behind it. I got chills just thinking about his hand on my body! I knew I had a serious crush, and it actually felt nice.

Unfortunately, I didn't have long to dwell on these new and exciting thoughts and possibilities. My alarm clock snooze timer kicked in, and the world's most hated sound blared throughout my room again. I shut my alarm off for good, and tossed my covers off, getting out of bed. I was convinced if I didn't get up right then, I would lose all my nerve and never would.

It was audition day.

I took a short shower and quickly dried my hair. I threw on a black leotard and began to stretch out. I assumed we would do some sort of warm-up at the auditions, but I still wanted to be as prepared and flexible as possible. Anything I could do to get a slight advantage looked good to me.

I thought about the dance piece I was going to do for my solo audition, and felt confident in it. I had already decided not to run through it before hand. I was not going to gamble or risk hurting myself hours before I had to get in front of directors and producers. So marking it in my head was all I was up for.

I tried eating a small breakfast, but my nerves were too much. I felt like anything I ate, I would throw up, either from being scared or from dancing on a full stomach. I still felt nauseous at the thought of singing, even after what Erik had said to me. I wanted to sing first and get it out of the way, then blow them away with dancing. But then I thought I should dance before the singing auditions so that I could make a good impression first-- start on a positive.

Both scenarios weren't working or helping in my mind, so I gave up. After my non-breakfast, I packed my bags, throwing in my pointe shoes, a towel, water bottle, and other dance and audition necessities. And with a few final stretches I headed out the door and made my way towards the theatre.

The Majestic Opera house was located right in the heart of Boston's theatre district. Even though the theatre was built originally in the early 1900s, I remembered reading somewhere that it had recently been restored to its former glory. A lot of theatres in the area had been abandoned or were becoming rundown. It was nice to see such a vital piece of the past still in good use, and I was thrilled at the prospect of being able to perform on its stage.

I arrived at the front doors of the opera house at 8:45am and hesitated slightly. I knew I had a long day ahead of me, but I figured it was then or never, so I pulled open the huge glass door and stepped inside.

The lobby was smaller than what I imagined it would be, but what it lacked in size, it more than made up for it with its style. Everywhere I looked there was gold-- carvings and archways were all covered completely in gold leaf, dim lights shown amber, even the banisters and railings were all a shiny golden brass. Huge mirrors that must have been six or seven feet high lined the back walls of the lobby.

The ornate features around my head were of winged cherubs, hugging the walls. The next things I noticed were the ornate columns, made of a dark red marble, running up to support the golden archways. At the top of each column was the carving of a horned devils face, complete with his tongue sticking out. Three huge beautiful murals covered the ceilings, filled with dancing women, naked in the summer air. I was in complete awe, and just stood there staring at everything around me.

I was pulled from my trance by a rather rude and annoyed looking woman sitting behind a folding table that had been set up the end of the lobby.

"Excuse me, miss, but the lobby is closed today for visitors. Please come back another time to schedule a tour," the woman said in a bored voice that told me she had said the short speech several times already this morning.

"Oh. Umm, well actually I am here for the auditions. This is the correct place, right?" I timidly asked, my small amount of confidence draining even more.

The woman sighed. "Yes, this is the correct place. You need to take one of these forms and fill it out completely," she said as she handed me the paper. "Also, here is your number and audition card. Please use the safety pin and attach it to your clothing as you audition, especially for group numbers. Don't lose it."

"Okay," I said slowly, a little unsure of where I should go next.

"Through the doors, into the theatre. They're starting at nine o'clock, so have everything done by then," the woman answered my silent questions.

Great, only ten minutes to go, I thought to myself.

I walked through the appointed door, and found myself in a carpeted passage way that wasn't quite a hallway, but still obscured my view of the theatre. The only thing to do was to to keep walking.

When I rounded the corner and properly entered the auditorium I was blown away by the picture that awaited me. If I had thought the lobby was impressive, I should have assumed the theatre would be spectacular. And it was.

The auditorium was done completely in crimson and gold. Archways, tapestries, walls-- everything fit into the beautiful color scheme. More carvings were everywhere. This time instead of cherubs and devils, masks and faces stared down at me from overhead, giving me the distinct feeling I was being watched at every angle.

The same dim lights burned all around me, making the gold leaf shine even brighter. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of bulbs ran along the arches over the box seats and lined the fronts of the balconies and the theatre's proscenium.

My eyes turned upward to take in more of the delicate carvings and I found myself beholding the most glorious figure of an angel-- wings spreads, arms lifted to the heavens-- as she supported the second balcony.

The ceiling ran in strips of a lattice pattern in gold with half of the diamonds filled in with a sky blue, while others were filled with carvings of grape bunches. Following the gilded trellises up my eyes rested on the crowning piece of the auditorium-- a giant, twinkling crystal chandelier. I had never seen anything quite like it at all. The light shining through the glass looked like a million diamonds had been bunched together to hang in the air. It was breathtaking.

When my gaze finally turned away from the beauty and opulence of the Majestic's house, I noticed there were actually hundreds of people gathered in the space already. Some were stretching, some vocalizing. Most looked nervous, or tired. I was usually not intimidated by other performers, but I could tell by some of the bodies in the room that these were all serious dancers.

I remembered that I needed to quickly fill out my forms, so I found a seat and began the series of questions before me. It was all fairly standard, asking for my name, height, weight, hair color, eye color, previous experience, any special or formal training, vocal range, scheduling conflicts, and so on. I finished the form, wrote my audition number boldly on the top where it was requested and put my head shot on the top. With the few minutes I had left before everything was to start, I took off my jeans, put on my shoes and stretched out again and practiced a few moves. It looked like some people were still filing in, obviously in a rush afraid of being late. There was a table set up midway in the orchestra seating with some important looking people sitting at it. I figured they were in charge, and they were engrossed in some conversation, probably going over the day's final details.

Satisfied that I had more time to work, I pulled out the sheet music I would have to use for my vocal audition. The first piece was the one dancers were expected to sing, a simple chorus piece in the opera. Simple to most, terrifying, of course, to me. I took a deep breath and tried singing it quietly to myself.

"Did those vocal exercises pay off?" I heard a bright voice speak behind me. I turned around to see Tatum, the girl from my studio whose help I had enlisted in learning how to sing. I had been using the warm-up CD she had lent me all week to practice with.

"Hi, Tatum," I laughed. "I hope they helped, otherwise I think I'm out of luck."

"You'll be great! Just don't let the success go to your head when you become a diva. AND, make sure to remember the little people, like me, who helped you on your way to fame and glory," she said smiling.

"I promise you will be the first person I thank when I receive my 'Lifetime Achievement Award for Opera Singing,' you have my guarantee. So, when are you going?" I asked trying to start up a conversation to temporarily distract my own mind from worrying.

"Well, I'm number 48 for the chorus auditions. Luckily my dance audition won't be as intensive as yours. In fact, as long as I don't trip over my own feet, or step on someone else's, I'll probably make it. Then again, you have seen me in some of my classes, it might be harder than I think!" she laughed at her own joke.

"Well, if I can make it, you surely will. I have every faith in you, as you seem to have in me!"

At that we heard one of the important looking men clear his throat to bring everyone to attention. The auditions were officially on.

"Good morning, good morning, everyone!" the man said enthusiastically. At least so far he seemed like a nice person., although I assumed my opinion would change once he had me in tears by telling me how much I sucked. He continued-

"Welcome to the Majestic Theatre! Hopefully you are all here for the Hannibal auditions. If not, you're probably thinking this is the worst tour you have ever been on!" Several people around me chuckled briefly; I didn't find his joke all that amusing.

"My name is Mr. Reyer, the director of this production for Opera Boston. I'm looking forward to working with you and seeing you all audition. I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to a few people you will be seeing today and much more if you are cast. To my far left-"he indicated to the man sitting two down from him- "is Mr. Richard, the company manager. He will be assisting in casting today, mostly with the chorus."

The man, Mr. Richard gave a slight nod to everyone sitting in the house, then, upon recognizing someone he must have worked with in the past, gave a small wave and smirk.

"Next I would like to introduce Ms. Cecile James! She will be our production choreographer and dance captain. She's one of the best, so you dancers know who to look out for!"

I noticed Cecile grimaced slightly as her name was announced, but as he finished she turned to acknowledge the crowd, but instead of a nod she gave a full fledge smile and large hand wave.

"This man, at my immediate left is Mr. Charmin, our musical director and conductor." Another quick nod from the maestro.

"And finally," Mr. Reyer continued, "it is with greatest pleasure that I introduce to you our leading lady for this production. . .our prima donna, if you will-- All the way from Italy, La Carlotta!"

Many of the people in the room began to applaud, obviously recognizing the famous La Carlotta. I assumed they must be bigger opera fans than I was, because I had never heard of her. From one of the green plush theatre seats, a woman rose wearing a terribly outrageous outfit. Her dress was long and beaded; it looked like something I would see in a prom-dress reject bin. Around her shoulders was a fur stole that seemed oddly out of place for the warm September weather we were having. A huge monstrosity of what I thought was a hat sat squarely on her head. If that's what an Opera star has to dress like, count me out! I thought with a pang.

La Carlotta just smirked at everyone in the room. You could tell she was sizing everybody up, just knowing that she was better than all of us. And maybe she was, undoubtedly better than I. . . .but that didn't change the fact that I still wished I could slap that smug expression of off her overly made-up face. She finally sat back down after making a smart little curtsey, and Mr. Reyer finished by explaining how the days events would work.

"Alright, ladies and gentleman, now to get down to the business at hand. I know you are all probably anxious and nervous and want to begin the actual audition process, so let me run through the order of it all.

"First, if you are auditioning for a mostly vocal role-- that includes minor and supporting characters and of course the chorus, you will be heading downstairs to a rehearsal hall with Mr. Charmin and Mr. Richard. They will start you through a series of warm-ups and begin auditioning you in the order of your numbers. After you are finished and our dancers are finished with their main auditions, you will learn some quick and very simple dances to make sure you don't have two left feet and won't fall off of the stage during a performance!
It's a long drop into that orchestra pit, and I doubt Mr. Charmin will appreciate it much!"

More light chuckling from some auditioners followed his hilarious joke.

"Okay, now dancers! You will first be doing your solo audition pieces for myself and Ms. James. Of course the order will be determined by your number. When the solo auditions are done and the vocal auditions are wrapping up, we will be evaluating each dancer and will post a list of those who will continue to phase two. Unfortunately, if you do not make this list, we thank you for your time and encourage you to audition with us again in the future.

"If you make it on to phase two, you will all be split into two groups. One group will go to the rehearsal hall to do your vocal auditions. The other group will be working with Ms. James to learn a group dance. We want to see how quickly you can pick up choreography and how you dance with others. When the two groups are done, they will switch places. At the end of the day, you will all meet back up onstage where we will place you into smaller sections and you will perform the group dance you learned.

"Okay, so, singers, please follow the two men down to the rehearsal hall. Watch your step backstage. Dancers, remain seated in the house until your number is called. When it is, please hand in your audition forms and music before you go up on the stage.

"Thank you everyone, and best of luck to you all!" he finished with a grand flourish of his hands.

The worst part about auditions isn't the nervousness or the angst or the worry. It's the waiting. And wait I did. Unfortunately, I was number 84, so I had to sit and watch all eighty-three dancers before me. Some were really terrible, getting stopped or cut off less than a minute into their piece. Others were quiet brilliant, and were allowed to dance the whole three minutes that was the maximum time allowed. After seeing sixty-three dancers go before me, I wasn't nervous at all anymore. In fact, I felt surprisingly quite good. I knew I was just as good or better than everyone who had gone.

Finally, my turn came.

"Number 84-- Miss Christine DuBois?" Mr. Reyer called out.

"Right here, sir," I quickly answered back as I headed towards the table to hand them my information, photo, and music.

"Alright, very good. Please take your spot up onstage and wait to begin," he said with a reassuring smile.

I went through the pass door leading to the backstage wings and walked out onto the stage. I got into my starting pose and waited for the music to begin. I tried clearing my mind so I could get into my 'dancing zone' where nothing else mattered and I thought of nothing else, but I couldn't help thinking quickly about Mrs. Giry's encouragement and advice through the past weeks, and I thought about how my parents had been there for me through every audition nurturing my dancing career. I knew they would be proud even of the fact that I was up here now trying out for an opera. I smiled to myself and heard my music begin.

I started to dance and felt myself being carried away to that area of intense focus I found myself when I danced my best. I knew I had to look great as I moved about the stage. Time stopped having meaning to me, but at some point I realized I had been dancing for awhile and hadn't been stopped. As I went into a développé leap I recalled my earlier dream. I envisioned myself from that dream, dancing to a full house. I could imagine every seat in the Majestic filled with adoring fans and patrons, and when I looked I could see Erik in one of the boxes, hidden almost completely in darkness, holding that red rose.

My reverie ended, and so did my dance. My face was flushed from dancing, and I was sweating quite a lot, but I knew had I had danced beautifully. I could feel it inside my heart. The director and choreographer gave no indication other than a quick thanks as they continued to write down some notes. I nodded and smiled, and headed off the stage, prepared to do more waiting.

X X X

I was not at all surprised to see my audition number appear on the list of people who made it to phase two. Roughly one-hundred people had been cut, which left about fifty dancers to continue on with me. There were spots for twenty in the cast.

I was relieved to learn I was going to be in the first half of people who were learning the group dance. I wasn't ready to sing and knew I had to eventually, but putting it off a little longer still looked appealing to me.

I gathered again with the other dancers onstage as the choreographer began to address us.

"Congratulations everyone! By making it to phase two, you are all obviously fine and talented dancers! Sadly, we only have room for fifteen females and five males, so best of luck to you all. I'm going to teach you some choreography now, it's easier than what will be in the show, but we don't want to kill you before we even begin rehearsals! So relax, and have some fun!" she stated, then quickly added with another smile, "Oh, and please! Don't call me Cecile, James or Jamie is perfectly acceptable, and preferable, to me."

Everyone smiled, and phase two began. The dance steps were easy, and I caught on quickly. I was blessed with a good and fast memory when it came to choreography. Seeing that I had it down pretty well, James even had me move towards the front with a few other dancers. When we were finished learning the dance, I knew I would be great in the group performance. But it was time to sing.

When we had made our way down into the rehearsal hall, Mr. Charmin first lead us through a series of vocal warm-ups. He gave us a few tips and pointers here and there about breathing and how we should shape our mouths.

"I know you are not all used to singing, but this is quite a big production, and we need everyone to be the best they can be. . . in all areas," Mr. Richard said pointedly, as if we all needed to be reminded of this painfully obvious fact.

Mr. Charmin explained we would be breaking in half and would first sing the chorus piece through a couple of times in our group to warm us up on the notes. Then, we would sing the same pieces individually. I tired to remain calm as I stepped up with my group and stood near the other sopranos and began to sing.

With feasting and dancing and song,

tonight in celebration

we greet the victorious throng,

returned to bring salvation!

The trumpets of Carthage resound !

Hear, Romans, now and tremble!

Hark to our step on the ground!

Hear the drums - Hannibal comes!

I was feeling much better by the time we had sung the piece a few times, and waited for my solo turn. When my turn was finally called, I was petrified.

I quickly recalled in my mind my mother singing. What did she do before she sang? How did she do it? I thought in a panic. Then I remembered Erik's advice from the night before.

"Relax, and breathe from here. Believe that you can do it."

He also told me to clear my mind, don't think, just sing. Don't think, just sing, don't think, just sing. I repeated it to myself over and over in my mind, like a mantra. Believe that you can do it.

In the end, I did do it. But not as well as I would have liked. I couldn't hit many of the highest notes, and went a little flat. After I started singing, I tried to relax, but forgot to breathe, so my timing was a little off. But I thought my voice had been pretty clear, and at least I had sung loudly, instead of mousy and quiet, which I figured was a plus. No one booed me, or laughed, but I was still slightly embarrassed of myself. I certainly didn't feel like the amazing naturally talented singer my friends had built me up to be.

We all returned to join the other dancers and finished the day with the group dancing. I felt I redeemed myself by dancing perfectly again. I didn't miss a single step, and knew I was the best one in my group. It felt nice to end on a positive note.

When it was finally all over, everyone was thanked for a hard day of work. We were told we would receive phone calls, regardless of the outcome of our auditions, the next day. I was thoroughly exhausted and looked forward to going home and taking a long hot shower to give my muscles some peace.

Meg was waiting for me when I got home, and I shared all the audition news with her. She of course reassured me, as best friends do, and told me I was going to get in for sure.

After my shower, I headed straight for bed. It wasn't that late, only about six o'clock, but I needed sleep in the worst way. I wished we could have found out whether we were cast that day. Going to sleep worrying about whether or not I had made it was just as bad as going to sleep and worrying about the audition and singing! I was glad the day and auditions were finally over, and I couldn't do a single thing but wait nervously again. The butterflies were beating full force once more as I drifted off to sleep.

A/N: This was supossed to be an even longer chapter, but it made more sense to end it here! Hope you enjoyed it. No E/C interaction, I know...but she finally did the audition, which has been brewing since, well, the beginning! Also, if anyone wants to see pictures of the real Majestic, let me know, I'll post some online. PLEASE Review! I love them:-)