"Do not allow your voice to lose its power, Mademoiselle!" Reyer shouted from the orchestra pit.
Christine was finding it difficult to harness the correct tone and passion required for the scene, from her inexperience with such deep emotions as well as not feeling any sort of attraction to Piangi. He seemed to have lost some of his confidence after noticing the failures of Carlotta and any other cast members that acted poorly to Mademoiselle Daae. Opera Ghost or not, the Italian man knew something was protecting her.
"I apologize Monsieur Reyer." Christine said, staring down at the wooden floors in shame.
"No, no! I don't need your kindnesses- rather your talent to be put to use. Think of anything that makes you feel spell-bound, emblazoned, inspired...whatever it is that has made your voice soar so beautifully to the audiences." The conductor instructed, waving his arms about for emphasis.
"Yes, of course. Thank you for the advice." She nodded, stepping back to her original position in the scene to restart the blocking.
The song was played from the beginning again, this time with Christine keeping her mind focused on everything Erik had shown her in his realm. Imagining her Angel in Piangi's place brought her clear, goddess-like voice out of its hiding and it gloriously echoed through the theatre. It used to frighten her that she felt this brazen way towards her own instructor...but the devotion was true and deep, completely impossible to ignore.
Besides, these feelings inspired her voice to perform as required by Reyer and she would need such thoughts to please the directors with her work. Christine needed to do especially well to persuade her Angel to rejoin her and to honor his beautiful opera. Her imagination wildly thought of being with Erik again, embracing him or watching him be struck with passion in playing his music. Reyer was impressed with the result of his advice, especially at his knowledge of Christine being quite an innocent girl.
Every day passed with a grueling monotony. Christine did her best to sound emphatic in her singing during rehearsals but it became increasingly difficult as more and more time had gone by without seeing Erik. Many of the ballerinas or chorus girls would remark how lifeless she acted- not bothering to really converse with anyone, not even Meg. The blonde girl would tell the worried Raoul about Christine's conditions whenever he came to visit strictly under "responsibilities of the patron".
Dress rehearsals were underway, the show taking place the next evening and anxiety bubbling in the air. As always, everything seemed to be mediocre just before the performance: messy choreography, incorrect singing pitches or rhythms, orchestra members getting lost in their music, sets falling apart, stage managers forgetting their cues to move scenery, costumes being incomplete. The pressure of having everything completed by the next night was enough to make Firmin and Andre bustle around the theatre with bottles of rum in their hands.
Madame Giry sternly scolded her students and forced them to spend an additional three hours getting the choreography exactly as she wanted. Having made the agreement with Erik, the woman was ensured that he would be somewhere within the theatre watching his masterpiece and would be dreadfully disappointed if the dancing was unfitting.
As everyone left for whatever dinner arrangements they had planned, Christine joining the ballerinas, the theatre was finally quiet. All of the lights were extinguished and the stage managers left for home. Erik, in his still weakened state, slipped amongst the shadows to fix the errors of the idiotic theatre personnel. He secured the ropes in the rafters the proper way, dabbled some quick-drying paints onto set pieces, removed unnecessary scenery items, and stitched strands of lace or pearls into the costumes.
The masked man stood in the rafters after all the work was done, longingly sighing from watching his dear Christine but not being able to interact with her just yet. Anticipation of talking to her, seeing her face-to-face, hearing her perfect voice was torturous for Erik. There was something else he felt the need to do, not simply observe from his secret passageways. Erik was struck with an idea and vanished immediately to plot out the events of tomorrow night, for they would be quite show-stopping.
"I expect you will be watching the opera tomorrow, monsieur?" Meg asked her dinner partner, who'd so kindly invited her out to an elegant restaurant where all of the socialites dined.
"Of course, it would be improper for the patron not to attend a performance of his investment." Raoul chuckled.
The pair become quite friendly to one another over the few weeks, both happening to be concerned for Christine's wellbeing and interested in one another. With an increased proximity and care for one another, Raoul felt it only right to court the girl properly.
"It will be quite a unique opera. Did Christine tell you her own instructor composed it? His music sounds like nothing we usually perform."
"Yes, I've heard that." He muttered bitterly before continuing in his cheerful tone, "I look forward to hearing her sing and seeing the ballet. All of Paris shall rejoice in your triumphs."
Meg blushed the color of her pink satin gown, her light blue eyes shining brightly in the candlelight glow.
"Maman has been tirelessly prodding all of the dancers to perfect every little detail of her choreography. I've never had to practice a routine nearly this much in my life! You'd think she was making us perform for the king!"
"I can only imagine the difficulty of such complex artistic forms. Monsieur Daae, Christine's father, was meant to be my violin tutor but I, regrettably, could never quite grasp the technique necessary for it."
"Is that how you met Christine?" Meg questioned in a child-like curiosity.
"Yes, all that time ago back in Perros-Guirec when we were very young. I caught a terrible cold trying to rescue her red scarf from the sea; the wind swept it away and she was crying so I acted the gentleman, running into the cold water to save the scarf."
"How very noble! Were you always so heroic?"
"Only for pretty maidens." Raoul teased.