13. Lessons

The rehearsals for Don Juan Triumphant were more stressful than Christine could ever have imagined. She would have been fine, if not for the type of the opera that Don Juan was and the fact that she was watched very closely by dozens of people she didn't know during the "awkward phases" of the rehearsals when the first read-throughs of the script had been done. Christine remembered one day very vividly, when she and Piangi were rehearsing the climax song of the opera - The Point of No Return, Erik had labeled it. The types things that the choreographers hired by Opera Populaire's managers wanted her to do for that song had had her blushing furiously and stumbling through the number, much to the amusement and delight of the police officers standing around the room. They were still waiting for Erik to slip and reveal himself so they could capture him. Having them there as a constant reminder to the danger Erik was in was also something that made it difficult for Christine to focus.

It also didn't help that the one-on-one rehearsals with Erik weren't as easy as Christine had hoped they would be. Erik had such high expectations for her, and the things he wanted her to do soon caused even more embarrassment for her than the original choreography. It was easier on her since during the lessons since she was with Erik, but dancing the same steps with Piangi made her feel filthy, especially since he was married to Carlotta.

During one of their next lesson, Erik and Christine had been working on the climax of The Point of No Return. The lines Erik had been focusing on where the ones where Aminta and Don Juan were singing together when they had finally entered his room. Before even looking at the choreography for the stanzas, she and Erik ran through the lyrics together.

Past the point of no return

The final threshold!

The bridge is crossed,

So stand and watch it burn!

We've passed the point of no return.

Singing those lyrics with Erik, in Christine's opinion, held so much more passion and power than when she sang them with Piangi. She knew it was because she and Erik loved each other while she and Piangi couldn't stand to even be in the same room with each other. Christine had begun thinking that it would be a miracle if she and Piagni could make Aminta and Don Juan's relationship on stage believable.

More than anything, Christine wished that it could be Erik on stage with her when she performed this number, but she knew it was nothing more than an empty and impossible hope.

"Now, Christine, I've taken a look at what the choreographers have done with this part of the song, and…"

"You hate it?" Christine interrupted.

"Precisely," Erik smiled. He knew that she had learned his opinion of the decisions being made; he hated everything the managers' choreographers had created, and took every chance he could to change the moves that would be done with the lyrics. Erik wrote his instructions down and had the letters sent to the managers, and, because the managers feared his wrath, they followed his orders and the steps were changed to what Erik wanted.

"To you, Christine, what does this point of the song mean?"

Christine felt her face begin to flush. "To me this means that Don Juan has gotten what he wants; Aminta has given herself over to him, completely and totally, with no doubts. Aminta, on the flip side, has gotten what she thinks she wants and is going to experience something…new." Erik nodded encouragingly. Christine took a deep breath before continuing. "It is the climax of the show, when the big question of whether or not Don Juan will actually triumph is answered." Although if the audience hasn't gathered that from the title of the opera, they're more dimwitted that I originally imagined, Christine added silently.

"Very nice," he nodded, walking in circles around her. "That is almost exactly what I was thinking when I wrote it… If this is meant to be the climax, the deciding moment of my opera, then the dance should reflect this, yes? Do you feel that what the choreographers have successfully does that?"

"Absolutely not," Christine responded, thinking of the foolish dance the manager's professional choreographers had come up with. Spin, spin, waltz, hold hands. Spin, spin, waltz, hold hands. Three steps forward, two steps back. Move away, move together. Christine nearly burst out laughing thinking about it.

Erik had her stand across from him. "With the set I've had them design, you will have gone up the spiral stairs to 'Piangi's room' on the platform above the stage. You will stand there, and Piangi here. As the verse opens, you will begin walking towards Piangi, and him you. He will have flipped the cape over the rail that is behind him. You will take your time here; you have until 'the bridge is crossed'." As Erik spoke, they began walking through the motions he was describing. "Keep your face hopeful but slightly confused, Christine. Aminta wants this, though she doesn't know why. Despite her attempts at fighting Don Juan, he is successfully seducing her. That must reflect in your face."

Christine stopped with a sigh. "I'm struggling with that, Erik. I can't capture what you need from me here."

He stopped and rubbed the back of his neck. She knew he was frustrated; he had told her that no matter what she was doing, her face lost the look it needed every day since the lessons had started. Christine wished more than anything that she could capture exactly what he was looking for, but, as Piangi had put it the other day, Christine was "too innocent for Aminta". She sank to the ground and buried her face in her hands. "Perhaps it's not too late to ask Carlotta…"

"No," Erik stopped her. He came and sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "You were born to play this role, Christine, even if you don't quite know it yet. I have an idea for something that can help you." He pulled her to her feet, and made her look at him. He placed her hands on his hips and he did the same to her. Stepping closer to her, he rested his forehead against hers. Instinctively, Christine had closed her eyes.

"Focus on what your face is doing right now, Christine," he whispered. "Focus on how your mouth curves, your eyes close gently – not squeezing shut –, your eyebrows bend down towards your eyes… Think on how that feels, remember how that feels. The bridge is crossed," he whispered the line in her ear. He twirled her so they were facing the lake they were practicing in front of. He was standing behind her, and they were entwined in each other's arms. Christine rested her head against his shoulder, completely at ease, smiling. "A small smile, Christine, of pleasure, not ecstasy… Good… Remember how that feels… So stand and watch it burn."

"We're past the point of no return," she finished, letting him move her hands around her body.

"Now you have it, Christine; that's what Aminta is. And those are the steps I want you to do with Piangi." To Christine's dismay, he pulled away from her. "I'd like to see the Firmin and André's choreographers get those results without my help."

"I understand now, Erik," Christine turned to face him. "I think I know what you're looking for now."

"I had a feeling that would work." Erik started towards his writing desk where he sat down and studied the papers set before him. "I have to write down those instructions so the managers know what I want…"

"Why didn't we do that sooner?" Christine said, coming over to Erik and placing her hands on his shoulders, watching him write. A chill went through Christine as the familiarity of this position came to her. She had been standing like this when she had tried to remove his mask. Christine wondered if Erik remembered that as well. "If you knew it would work," she continued, trying to keep her voice from shaking with the sadness of the memory, "why did you wait so long?"

Erik didn't respond at first, as if he was mulling his options. "I'm not sure why I waited for so long, Christine. I wanted to see if you could get it without me having to be…overly romantic. It's a good stretch for you if you can get it own your own."

"What do you mean, without being overly romantic? Do you have a problem with…with us?"

Erik turned to face her, confusion in his eyes. "No, not at all… That…that came out wrong... Forgive me, Christine." As if to emphasize that her interpretation was wrong, Erik reached up and pulled her close so he could kiss her. He waited for her to pull away, and when she finally did, she had a small smile on her face.

"I'm sorry, Erik, it was ridiculous of me to think that. Stupid question…" She looked down at the letter he was writing and watched his quill flow over the parchment quickly. "Could we…run through the song again? Just to make sure I have it…"

He shook his head before putting his quill down and standing. "Let's go to the music room," he said.

Christine knew that Erik knew she didn't need any more practice. She just wanted to sing with him again, and he knew that yet never turned her down. Any chance he had to sing with her, he would snag. Together, the entered the room where Christine had found him the day after the masquerade. That had been almost a month ago. Since then, he and Christine had spent countless hours in this room, practicing his opera, talking, or just sitting together. Whenever Christine had free time, she found herself spending it with Erik.

They ran through the whole opera, from beginning to end, moving from song to song, twice before Christine decided it was time for her to return to the world above.

This part of the night was always difficult; she hated leaving Erik down here alone. She could only imagine how difficult it must be on him to be here by himself with no one but his music and mirrors for company.

For what felt like the millionth time, she allowed Erik to walk her back up to the dressing room mirror, arm-in-arm. When they reached the mirror, Christine slowly pulled out of Erik's grasp and turned to face him, her back to the mirror.

"Thank you for everything, Erik," she said with a smile. "It means so much of me to have my angel of music with me every day."

Erik bowed deeply, grinning at her. "I often find myself asking, Christine; am I your angel of music, or are you my angel of music?" He gave her a quick kiss before turning and climbing back down to his lair.

Shaking her head, Christine made sure no one was in the dressing room before pushing back the mirror and entering the room. The moment she had slid the mirror back into place, the door was thrown open. Christine jumped and turned to see Raoul entering the room, followed by Madame Giry.

While she was glad that Madame Giry had come with Raoul, it scared her that he had been allowed to come so far into Opera Populaire without there being a show. Normally, the only time anyone who wasn't the occupant of the dressing room or an official Opera Populaire worker wasn't allowed in the dressing room, and though Raoul was the patron, he didn't officially work for Firmin and André.

"You missed rehearsal, Little Lottie," he told her simply, standing over her with his arms folded.

"What?" she said, looking to Madame Giry for clarification.

"The managers called an emergency rehearsal for Don Juan," Madame Giry informed her. "I sent Meg to find you, but the Viscount offered to go fetch you instead. He came back to tell us you weren't here, and we spent the last two hours looking for you."

"So, where were you, Little Lottie?" Raoul asked, glaring at her. "Do you want to tell me?"

Christine hesitated, trying to think of something she could tell Raoul that would be believable. Finally, an excuse came to her. "I was at my father's grave, Viscount. I just returned, but I didn't want to disturb anyone, so I came back into the opera houses through the back door."

Raoul stared down at her, his eyes shining with cold fire, but he didn't challenge her. "You need to stay on the premise, Little Lottie. A murderer is wandering the opera house, and I would hate for him to catch you." He turned to leave, pushing past Madame Giry. Before exiting, he stopped and said, "Try not to miss anymore rehearsals, Little Lottie; the show is opening in two weeks."

When he was gone, Madame Giry glared at her. "What were you thinking, staying down there so long? If you had been even a millisecond longer, he would have caught you coming in through the mirror!"

"I'm sorry, Madame Giry; the time got away from us. We were practicing the dance, and then he was writing a letter, and then…we were singing, Madame Giry." Christine collapsed on the chair that stood before the vanity. "Our voices were meant to be entwined in duet. They blend so beautifully…"

"I know what you want to happen when the show opens, my dear, and it can never be." Madame Giry sat down next to Christine in a nearby chair. "Erik wouldn't dare show up at Don Juan; he especially wouldn't go on stage with you. If he did, Raoul would have him shot on sight."

Christine nodded. "I know, Madame Giry, but I don't think I can replicate the realism I have with Erik when we're rehearsing with Piangi… I can't stand that vile man. He's almost as bad as Raoul…"

Madame Giry sighed. "I know that you are unhappy with Erik's casting choice for Don Juan, but this is good practice for later in life. Our partners are often chosen for us, and who we may at first be unhappy with, we can come to love...or at least appreciate."

Her eyes widened as Christine realized what Madame Giry was talking about. It was rumored that Madame Giry's marriage had been arranged by her family, and at first she had hated her husband. The rumor said that it wasn't until Madame Giry became pregnant with Meg that she had learned to love her husband. Before now, Christine had never believed the rumor, but seeing how Madame Giry spoke now told Christine that the rumor rang with more truth than she had ever thought.

"You really do love him, don't you?" Madame Giry asked, gazing at Christine with gentle eyes.

"I do, Madame Giry; more than life itself. I can't imagine my world without him…" she looked back at the mirror. "Every day it gets harder for me to leave… I never want the lessons to end. I want him to sing to me every day and night for the rest of eternity…"

"Have you ever thought of what will happen in your future, my dear? What can Erik give you? He's wanted through all of Paris, he can't show his face in public for more than just that one reason… Christine, what kind of life can he offer you?"

Anger surged through Christine, and she climbed to her feet. "He can offer me love, which is more than I can say for most of the men in my life right now. Piangi wants to see me crawling in the dirt… The managers want to see me back as a little chorus girl who can't demand anything from them… My suitors are just waiting for me to fail… And Raoul… he wants nothing more than to claim me as his prize! Erik is the only man in my life who loves me for me!"

"Does he love you for you; or for your voice?" Madame Giry whispered.

"I can't believe what I'm hearing. Not from you…From anyone else, but not from you." Christine grabbed the black and white cape Erik had given her all those months ago. She had tried to return it, but he told her it was a gift, and he wanted her to keep it. Fighting tears, she threw it around her shoulders before storming to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To the cemetery; I really need to visit my father's grave right now," she hissed before exiting the dressing room, slamming the door behind her.