XIII

The first rehearsals of Don Juan proved to be miserable events. The musicians belched and screeched their ways through the score, the dancers tripped through their routines and the actors and choirs members fumbled with their lines as Erik watched from above with growing anger. Even Christine, his beloved Christine, stumbled through her lines.

Of course, he hadn't expected it to go well at first, but the utter mess they were making of his masterpiece infuriated him. Carlotta often broke off into small rants or tantrums that only caused the already confused chorus members to lose their places. At several intervals the orchestra lost their place and quickly tried to recover, only to make an even worse muddle of the music.

Erik was certain to watch the rehearsals from a safe distance, preferably up at the highest point of the theatre, safely hidden behind the chandelier. From their he glared down at the stage, seething with every missed note or fumbled line. At length he couldn't stand it any more and let out a shout of rage that caused the chandelier to tremble and seemed to echo from every wall of the theatre.

The ballet rats gave their usual screams of fright and huddled together as the orchestra screeched to a halt and the entire stage seemed to freeze as the people upon it tried to locate the source of the cry. Erik shook his head in disgust, surely they knew him far better than that. A small and sinister chuckle replaced the dying shout, seeping from the walls and ceiling as the man left the room with an ominous, but unseen, swish of his cloak.

"Christine," Meg said uncertainly, resting a hand gently on her friend's arm, "Christine, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Meg," she replied distantly.

"Are you certain?" Meg asked, "you've gone terribly pale, you like about to faint."

Christine shook her head to clear it and turned to her friend, "I'm fine, Meg, I promise. Just a bit tired."

"If you say so," Meg murmured, staying close to her just in case.

"Its all going so badly," Christine murmured, "isn't it, Meg? This entire affair, its become nothing more than an enormous mess."

"I wouldn't say that," Meg said, trying to sound cheerful, "we're getting better, and there is still so much time."

"There'll never be enough time," Christine said sadly, "not for what he wants. He wants it to be perfect…and we can't do that."

Meg watched as Christine sighed quietly and stared at the floor, a strange, sad look in her eyes. After only a moment though their attention was captured by the rap on Antoinette's cane against the wooden floor of the stage. Immediately the murmuring stopped.

"We have much to do," Antoinette sighed, "apparently he is displeased. So hurry up and get into your places, there is much to work on and little time to do so."

Rehearsals eventually became more collected, and the notes from the ghost became more persistent. Even the tiniest details were not overlooked by his keen eye and the managers and staff soon became flustered by the never ending demands he showered upon them.

"This is insane!" Firmin cried one afternoon, "we cannot deal with all these absurd requests. Is he mad?"

"I think we all know the answer to that question," Andre muttered.

"What has he asked now?" Monsieur Reyer moaned, "and please, tell me it does not involve replacing any members of my orchestra."

"No, it involves the building of the set. It seems he wishes for the impossible!" Firmin exclaimed, tapping the paper irritably, "Madame Giry, do you have any idea how he wishes us to complete this insane feat?"

Antoinette simply shrugged her shoulders, "I am no architect, Messieurs, so I cannot help you. Ask the set builders."

"We have," Andre grumbled, "and even they have no idea how to accomplish this goal. Perhaps he should build it, if he wishes for such specific results."

"Perhaps," Antoinette agreed.

"Well, be off with you," Firmin snorted, "I'm sure you both have something important to do. Go rehearse, or something."

Antoinette sighed and made her way back to her apartment. She had given her dancers the day off, for the sole reason that they all needed a good rest. Once there she made herself a cup of tea and slumped into her chair, pressing a hand to her forehead and a headache began to throb in her temples. Everything was becoming so complicated. The demands for perfection were, as the managers had said, insane. And that insanity was starting to wear every one down to their last nerves. Especially Raoul. The poor young man could constantly be found begging Christine to stay with him, and every time she would refuse, saying that she couldn't leave at such a time. This always perturbed the young man, and he would leave every night with a heavy heart.

Christine shook her head and pulled away from Raoul, "No, I can't."

"Why not?" he asked, exasperated by her determination, "Christine, it is dangerous here, you have said so yourself. Just come with me and get away from this for at least one night! It would do better for you to not sleep here."

"I can't," she repeated, "please, Raoul, I'm tired."

He sighed and kissed her cheek, "Fine, Christine, I'll be back tomorrow. Good night."

Christine sighed heavily and said good night before going to bed. It wasn't that she did not want to go with him, but she knew that she couldn't. Raoul wanted more than just one night, he wanted to save her, to take her away from the theatre, and she knew that was dangerous.

If she left, then his rage would be terrible, and there would be no end to what he might do. She told him she couldn't because it would be too hectic to go back and forward between the house and the theatre, but they both knew it wasn't the truth.

"Are you ready for bed?" Meg asked, disturbing her thoughts, "Elsa and I were going to go out, if you'd like to come."

"Out?" Christine asked, feeling a familiar fear creep into her veins. She now hated being left alone in the theatre.

"Yes, just across the street."

"I'll come," she said.

"Good, we're leaving in a few minutes."

Christine sighed and ran a brush through her hair. Fear and inconvenience were not the only reasons she did not want to leave, though she told herself they were. She also didn't want to leave, to disappoint someone who had once meant so much to her. He deserved this performance, this one final performance.

A/N: Wow, I have finally given you an update and am terribly sorry for the long delay, but I was working for the past two weeks. Anywho, the updates should (as I always tell you) be a little more regular now, for I am really getting into this part. I just watched the movie again last night and am worrying over the ending though, it will be hard to write, so once that part comes please bear with me. Leave some reviews, please and thank you. Love you all!