"You look pretty, Mama," Charlotte sat on the couch of Christine's dressing room and watched her mother apply her stage make up.
Christine smiled as she turned to look at her daughter, "As do you. All dressed up for opening night."
Charlotte smoothed out her green dress, before raising her hand to her cheek.
"Now Charlotte, don't touch it too much or it will smudge," Christine caught her daughter out of the corner of her eye.
Charlotte lowered her hand and instead jumped off the couch and walked over to the full-length mirror. The Soprano had blended some of her stage make up over her daughter's deformity and once again adjusted the ribbon her in her hair to cover the one on her scalp. Neither hid the marks completely but it was just enough to satisfy the child.
A knock at the door turned Charlotte's head from the reflection of her cheek to it. When it opened to reveal The Phantom, she smiled.
"Dada!" She exclaimed. "Isn't Mama pretty? Aren't I pretty?"
He picked her up and noting the make-up, kissed her forehead, "Pretty as always!"
She kissed his exposed cheek and then tapped the mask with her finger.
Christine smiled as she watched father and daughter in the reflection of her mirror, "Are you nervous, Angel?"
"Why should I be? I know I've written yet another stellar opera. And this time I have willing producers and the same Soprano is willing to be the lead. And what about you?"
"I believe I already played Persephone to your Hades in my youth," The Diva's smile widened as she lifted the flower crown to her head.
"And you came back to be queen of my underworld."
"What's underworld?" Charlotte puzzled allowed.
"It's the place your mother gets to be queen of in the opera tonight!"
Charlotte clapped her hands, "Does that make me princess of the underworld?"
"No," Erik tapped his daughter's nose. "You are the Young Mistress of Phantasma. And as such you must come with me to greet our patrons tonight." He walked over to his wife and left a kiss on her cheek, "We shall see you after the show. Bonne chance, Angel."
There was something peculiar with how the pomegranate was set on the stage when Christine came out for her first scene with Hades. George had never sat it that close to her entrance during their rehearsals. Nerves, understandably. She picked it up and noted to fidget with it before it came time to act like eating the seeds as she started to sing her lines.
Staging had Persephone turned when Hades entered, but Christine only needed to hear the first couple of notes to know that it was not George on the stage with her. A loud gasp passed her lips as she dropped the pomegranate and character. She spun around, her Grecian Chiton a storm of fabric, and saw her husband in the Hades' robe, wig and crown. He looked up to reveal that the false beard and wig hid a good deal of his deformities.
The next verse was forgotten as memories of a black hooded Don Juan and Piangi's lifeless body swinging pushed them aside. "Erik, no," she whispered, eyes wide, lip trembling.
The Phantom took a step back so Christine could see into the wings where George stood holding a candle. The man waved with his free hand. The conductor turned and looked at Christine from the pit. The Diva picked up the pomegranate and nodded at the conductor, who started at the beginning of her verse. As the curtain came down on their duet, Persephone found herself being carried in Hades arms as it was scripted.
Once in the wings, The Phantom sat her down but pulled her into his arms.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Christine exclaimed squirming against her husband. "You had to have known where my mind would go…actually you did and you were ready! How dare you do this to me again!"
"Christine, please!" Erik let go of her. "You know I'm no longer that man! Say you know I am no longer that man! This was supposed to be a delightful surprise. I wanted to perform this with you! Opening night of my new opera on my stage with the love of my life. I arranged it all with George!"
"And what about me?" Christine snapped. "Your opera! Your stage! I am not just your soprano or your wife! I am a paid employee! Did you not think through how this would affect me? Or the other actors? For all the progress you have made you can still be so dense!" She fled down the walkway towards backstage.
"What did she mean by again?" George walked up to Erik. "Shall I prep for Act Two? Intermissions go by fast."
"Not yet," The Opera Ghost headed back stage after his wife.
"Christine!" Erik pushed open her dressing room door.
The Diva stood in her undergarments as her dresser hung the cream Chiton up and pulled a violet Chiton down.
"Christine, what are you doing?" Erik closed the door behind him.
"Getting ready for Act Two. Or do you not remember in your own damn opera Persephone has a costume change once she's in the underworld?" The Diva watched her husband's perplexed reaction in the mirror and laughed, "Did you really expect me to storm off in the middle of opening night?"
"Other opera divas have. And you do have an understudy."
Once she was dressed, Christine sat down at her vanity and touched up her make up as the dresser smoothed out her hair, "Well other divas usually do not have as much invested in an opera as I do this. Are you going back on for Act Two?"
"Only if you want me to. George is standing by to get into costume."
Christine turned and smiled at her dresser, "Anne, thank you but I need a moment alone with my husband."
"Yes, Madame," The girl left the room closing the door behind her.
"You really want to perform this with me?" She sat her lip rouge down.
"Yes, my Angel! I truly meant I wanted this to be a pleasant surprise. I wanted the world to hear our voices together, singing my work opening night," Impassioned, Erik rested his hands on his wife's shoulders. "What can I do to go back out on the stage with you?"
Christine Daae turned around in her chair and stood up. She wrapped her arms around her Hades, "You want to finish tonight as Hades? Remove the beard and push back the wig. Let them see your real face."
Erik pulled and turned away from her, "Christine, do you know what you ask of me? The ridicule not only I, but we would be put through? The ruin brought on our friends and producers!"
"Those are the terms if you want to come back on the stage with me," Christine stood firm. "If not George better be out there with me for Act Two, not you pulling another trick. Also remember our daughter is out there watching. Do you know what it would mean to her to see her Dada on stage exposing his deformity?"
The Opera Ghost closed his eyes, took a deep breath and balled his hands into fists, "That was cruel, Christine and you know it. You cannot possibly understand the guilt I live with, especially now that she realizes she's different."
He yanked open the dressing room door and stormed down the hall yelling, "George, get into costume! Madame is requesting your presence for Act Two!"
"Erik, you are being ridiculous!" Christine followed him out of the dressing room.
Other performers and crew grew silent and stopped all activity to focus complete attention on the marital theatrics right in front of them
"Am I? How am I supposed to react when you try to manipulate me with our daughter? I will see you at the after party where will give the illusion this never happened!" He opened the door to George's dressing room and slammed it shut.
George, who was trotting down the hall, adverted his gaze from Christine as he reopened the door and closed it behind him.