A/N: This chapter will be in two parts. It's a long chapter and I didn't want to post it all at once. The lyrics are not mine, they belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Without them, this story would not be possible. As always, please R & R. Enjoy!

Chapter 14 – Don Juan Triumphant?

To Angelina, the day had flown by with nothing accomplished except the growth of more butterflies in her stomach. She was beyond nervous and could talk to no one about it. Her fears and doubts would have to be hers alone. She would have to take them on herself.

She stepped into her room one more time. The dress she wore was a little tight but nothing to complain about. It still let her move freely about the stage without any restriction. Her feet were cold and the bracelet upon her ankle was chilled and sent shivers up her spine as it connected with her skin.

There was a lone candle lit on a table near the mirror in her room. I don't remember lighting that. Slowly walking over to the table, she noticed a red rose upon it, tied in a black ribbon. Erik. He did not have to leave a note. The rose, in itself, was enough of a message to her. He believed in her and he wished her luck. No words needed to be spoken. The rose had spoke volumes.

She looked in the mirror one last time. Was he watching her? Did he see her with the rose? She gently broke the stem the slightest bit and removed the ribbon. He would be with her tonight - both in spirit and in her heart. She stuck the rose in her hair and looked at herself.

"I am Aminta. I am Aminta."

She took one last deep breath and walked out of her room: feeling like a star.

Christine, Raoul, Jonathan, and Alexander took their seats in Box Five. Raoul looked around him, remembering a time when he sat in Box Five for Christine. Now he was doing it for his daughter. He was proud of her and he could not express it enough to her. The phrase "daddy's little girl" held true of him and Angelina. He loved her with everything he had and would see no harm come to her.

But something bothered him. The atmosphere seemed all wrong. Something wasn't right. He looked at Christine and saw she was actually relaxed for the first time since she had entered Paris.

Christine felt at home. Although memories flooded her, she still felt content being in an opera house again. It had been ages since she had even stepped foot into one. Raoul had tried for years after the "incident" but she would not have any of it. She was afraid of being inside one.

After being away for so long, she had forgotten what it was like. She could just imagine how Angelina was feeling. She was always nervous before an opening night. Christine had hoped the tradition was not carried down.

The curtains opened and both Raoul and Christine gasped in horror…

Angelina stood off stage right and watched Rene get into position behind the curtain that entered the stage from in the back. They had good chemistry and she had no doubts that they would do well together on stage. She thought back to the other morning when Erik had shared the stage with her. No one will give me the thrill of being on the stage like he did.

She heard the orchestra start and she said a silent prayer to herself. I am Aminta. I am Aminta. The curtains opened as she listened to the audience gasp.

The stage had an amber glow to it. Although it was Don Juan Triumphant, Meg had made sure the stage look nothing like it did the night at the Opera Populaire. Several different fires were set about the stage, controlled and watched at all times. Instead of a large "fire" in the middle of the stage, a large round table sat there. Upon the table was a bottle of wine, a sword, cape, and a hidden mask.

The entire stage was set in oranges and reds, giving it a seductive and passionate look. Arnaud would not let Meg take that away. And the stairs and catwalk was a must. As much as Meg argued her point, Arnaud and Paul would not hear of it. She made sure the set constructors had not put a trap door in the cat walk and there was no open pit in the middle of the stage.

The costumes had not differed much either. They were dark and looked seductive. The entire chorus had different costumes in black, red, and brown. The women wore dresses with the skirts at different lengths while the men had suits with a variety of different vests and ties.

Meg knew the finished product would look much like that night, but there was no choice. She tried her best to not make it look that way. She would watch Angelina like a hawk and pray to God that nothing went wrong.

The orchestra began the opening tune to Don Juan. Monsieur Laurent ignored the gasps around him and continued conducting. He watched as the chorus began on stage with Brigitte leading them. They begun to sing the song they had rehearsed for weeks to get right. Monsieur Laurent said a silent prayer and continued conducting.

"Here the sire may serve the dam, here the master takes his meat! Here the sacrificial lamb utters one despairing bleat!"

They continued their song and dance, dancing around the fires and each other. None of them seemed to notice the expressions on any of the audience – their minds were too focused on the task at hand.

"Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your young of stolen sweets, you will have to pay the bill – tangled in the winding sheets! Serve the meal and serve the maid! Serve the master in that, when tables, plans and maids are laid Don Juan triumphs once again!"

They all moved off to the side, in unison, as Gabriella stepped through the curtain from the back of the stage. She smiled and danced her way down to the center of the stage. Gabriella had made her mark. She lit up the stage with just her small dance and presence alone. Knowing Rene was not far behind; Gabriella looked behind her and watched him step through the curtain with a small bag in his hand.

Gabriella looked back at him, pleading, doing her part to the letter. Rene gestured for her to dance one more time and Gabriella did so. He smiled and tossed her the small bag. Gabriella bowed and danced her way off of the stage, allowing Rene to take the spot where she had once stood.

Right on cue, Rene watched another man enter from the same way he did. Rene smiled at the man and turned to him, ready to take the song to another level.

"Passarino, faithful friend, once again recite the plan."

"Your young guest believes I'm you – I, the master, you, the man."

Rene smiled at "Passarino" while making his way to the table in the middle of the stage. Picking up his cloak and sword, he turned back to "Passarino" and continued on with the song.

"When you met, you wore my cloak, she could not have seen your face. She believes she dines with me to her master's borrowed place! Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what in truth, is mine. When it's late and modesty starts to mellow, with the wine."

"You come home! I use your voice – slam the door like crack of doom!"

"I shall cry, 'Come hide with me! Where, oh, where? Of course – my room!'"

"Poor thing hasn't got a chance!"

Rene quickly gave his cloak and sword to "Passarino" and began toward the back of the stage, snatching a mask that was hidden on the table.

"Here's my hat, my cloak, and sword. Conquest is assured, if I do not forget myself and laugh…"

Rene laughed on the way off of the stage and quickly walked behind the curtain. Unseen by anyone out front, Rene held out his hand with his mask in it. A figure, a "ghost", snatched the mask from Rene and put it on. Rene could feel nothing but concern but let his fears be pushed aside.

"You will not have much time when the song is over."

The figure did not reply to him and stood ready to make his entrance.

Angelina watched as Rene walked through the curtain. This is it! You can do this. Don't fail me now. Remember, he's watching.

Without any hesitation, Angelina walked from stage right and began to walk onto the stage, carrying only a basket with flowers inside. She smiled, looking out at the audience. What a rush!

"…no thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy! No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love!"

Angelina sat down toward the right of the stage as she waited patiently for Rene to make his grand entrance once again. She did not have to wait long as she heard the curtain being pulled back. Fear coursed through her and she quickly tried to contain it.

"Passarino" looked at the figure who has just stepped through the curtain. He knew something was wrong. Although he was the same build and height as Rene, he knew that the new "Don Juan" was far from being Rene. Trying not to take up too much more time, he continued on with the song, ignoring every sense that was screaming to him to stop the opera.

"Master?"

"Passarino – go away! For the trap is set and waits for its prey…"

Raoul watched as Christine's eyes went wide. He put a hand on her shoulder and noticed her skin had gone cold and clammy.

"My love, what is it?"

"That voice. Raoul, I know that voice."

"It's just your imagination. Just a memory, Christine."

"No, it's not a memory. It's him! He's on stage with Angelina!"

Erik looked at Angelina sitting off to the side. He took a deep breath before continuing, knowing that he could be condemning himself for even trying to do this once again.

"You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent, silent…"

Erik watched as Angelina's eyes began to widen. He knew she recognized his voice but could somehow still not place it. Slowly putting his finger to his lips as he said "silent", he continued down stage with his slow approach to her. He wanted to make it last and he would – without any interruption.

"I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge – in your mind your mind you've already succumbed to me…"

Angelina's head slowly turned and she looked at the figure walking toward her. She noted the mask and the cape but the voice… It's the voice. I know it. Why can't I place it?

She watched as he continued down stage toward her – slowly and seductively. That morning with Erik slowly crept back into her mind as, without thought, she rose to her feet. She did not break eye contact with "Don Juan", whoever he was. It was not Rene; she knew that much for a fact. But she would continue on and hope that she could without faltering.

"…now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided, decided…"