Chapter Two – Sing, Prima Donna
Andre, the entire cast and crew behind him, looked upon the face to whom the voice belonged. It was a young woman, in her late teens, Andre assumed, with shoulder-length brunette hair. Her skin was somewhat pale, but it only served to bring to light her bright green eyes and perfectly formed singer's mouth. Her eyes were naturally large; now, they were even larger in surprise at being caught.
Andre burst from the crowd and stood facing the young woman. Both stood staring at each other in silence for a moment before Andre finally spoke.
"You – are you the one who was singing? Just now – singing Don Juan Triumphant!?"
"Y-yes, I was… I'm so sorry, did I disturb you? I didn't know anyone was in there. I- what are you doing?" The young woman was startled as Andre grabbed her wrist rather roughly and pulled her behind him into the Opera House. Down the aisle he dragged her, and thrust her onto the stage. The crowd of cast and crew followed, no one bothering to close the doors. The young woman looked frightened as Andre positioned her at down center stage. He walked off the stage and sat in the seating area. He nodded to the young woman.
"Sing. This is your audition." The young woman took a step back, surprised.
"Audition? What… what should I sing?" she asked.
"Anything," retorted Andre, his patience quickly dwindling. "Sing what you were singing earlier – Aminita's part from Don Juan Triumphant! will be suitable. Now, from 'No thoughts…'" The young woman cleared her throat gently and stepped forward. Suddenly, her clear, high voice filled the auditorium as she began to sing.
No thoughts within her head
But thoughts of joy!
No dreams within her heart
But dreams of love…
The cast and crew fell silent as they listened to the voice which so resembled the pure voice of Christine Daae. Andre stood and once again addressed the young woman on stage.
Now, Aminita's part in The Point of No Return, from 'you have brought me…'" andre reclaimed his seat and signaled for her to begin. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She focused, and as her lips parted the sweet music, which had been written fo Mademoiselle Daae, flowed forth once again.
You have brought me
To that moment where words run dry,
To that moment where speech disappears
Into silence…
Silence…
The young woman suddenly let go of her inhibitions and began to move around the stage as if imploring some invisible person to join her, her voice now strong and sure.
I have come here,
Hardly knowing the reason why…
In my mind I've already imagined
Our bodies entwining,
Defenseless and silent –
And now I am here with you:
No second thoughts,
I've decided…
Decided…
Now, as she became lost in the music, she was no longer aware of the presence of others in the Opera House. She began twirling about the stage madly in a passionate, heated Spanish dance which she had seen only one – years ago, at the production of Don Juan Triumphant! which had ended so fatefully.
Past the point of no return –
No going back now:
Our passion-play has now,
At last, begun…
Past all though of right or wrong –
One final question:
How long should we two wait
Before we're one…?
When will the blood begin to race,
The sleeping bud burst into bloom?
When will the flames at last
Consume us…?
Now, although there was no man on stage to dance with her, or to hold her, she sang as if the role of Don Juan was fulfilled, her actions indicating some unseen man behind her performing the duet.
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…
The young woman, now far upstage, stood silently leaning against her invisible partner, oblivious to her surroundings. The redheaded chorus girl approached the dumbstruck Andre and lightly touched his shoulder. As he acknowledged her, she nodded back to the entrance to the Opera House, where scores of people had crowded into the foyer and were spilling out onto the steps and up into the far rear of the auditorium. Leading them was Monsieur Firmin. Everyone was staring at the young womanwho seemed to be in some sort of trance onstage. After three minutes of tremulous silence, M. Firmin broke it with a slow, steady clap, and was slowly joined by M. Andre, then Meg, then the redheaded chorus girl, and eventually the rest of the crowd, comprised mainly of former patrons and the attendants of Carlotta Giudicelli and Ubaldo Piangi. The young woman, hearing the applause, came back to reality and, after a moment of confusion, realized that the the applause… was for her!
Far below the stage, a very different audience applauded for the voice above. A rich voice, not too unlike a chocolate soufflé, uttered but one word:
"Christine…"