The stage was set. The instruments were tuned, the performers stood ready. Christine crouched in the nook that she always hid in before a performance. She listened to the sound of the distinguished audience settle into their plush sets. Slowly, the soprano closed her eyes. The crowd quieted. Behind her closed lids, she thought she saw the lights dim. A familiar tingle of excitement showered over her body, though this time the excitement was tainted with dread. "One....two....three......." she murmured, then the music began to play.
The overture was a clash of sound. Racing violins and roaring brass instruments played what seemed to be a song made of fire and brimstone. Even after countless rehearsals, Christine still gasped at the sound of it. She heard the audience gasp as well. It was not common music. The singers began to sing, the sound of their voices harsh and queer against the strange noise of the music. Christine opened her eyes. It felt like her ears were bleeding, but yet the music brought forth the thrill of all human emotion. She walked forward a bit, and gently peaked her head around a part of the thick velvet curtain. The set was barbarous in a magnificent way.
Flames danced up to the rafters, which were covered in silk banners of red, black and gold. Circular pits in the floor were made to look like bonfires, with stagehands beneath the stage, fanning the structures to make them appear alive. Around the bonfires were painted suns, spanning through the whole stage with swirls and flames. There were no backdrops, just a few black drapes set up near the back of the stage, which with the fire, made the area dim with shadows and provided a high contrast to the bright flames. And yet, even with the vivid colors of the fire, the most eye-catching thing on the stage was a huge bridge. It was in the center, and underneath it seemed to be a lake of fire. There were winding staircases on either side, with intricate swirls on the banister of the thin rails at the top. On the other side of Christine's nook was a curtained off section, which was supposed to be Don Juan's bedroom.
Christine peaked around the corner. The velvet curtains tickled her face. On center stage, two singers strolled around leisurely. They were portraying Passarino and the infamous Don Juan. Christine nearly laughed as she watched Piangi. The tenor was rather stout and portly, and it was amusing to see him try to portray a dashing sex god. The two men were discussing, in song, how they were to trick the innocent gypsy girl Aminta, who was played by Christine. The soprano found that she actually was really fond of the song "Don Juan." The lyrics were angry and scornful at bits, yet still humorous and clear to understand. The accompanying music was just as heated as the words, but throughout it took breaks into persuasive bits of cool percussion. Sometimes the melody burned Christine just to slow down and flow over her like a soft bit of water. Then it was her time to go on stage. She left her sheltered nook and went to where her prop was waiting backstage. Grasping her basket of red roses firmly, she walked on stage. To the audience, Aminta seemed to be a lovely but dreamy girl dressed in a rather revealing costume. Christine took deep breathes and calmly scanned the still rather stunned crowd.
She leisurely strolled, then bashfully turned her face to the ground and sang, "No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy..." The role of the innocent gypsy was perfectly suited for the pure-voiced soprano. As if Aminta gained confidence, she lifted her head and finished, "No dreams within her heart but dreams of love!" The cool percussion filled the theater again, and Christine walked over to the side stage a bit, then gracefully sank down. She fiddled with the roses in her basket, and pretended to be lost to the world. Even as hard as she tried to act, she couldn't resist one more glance to Raoul, who sat high in box five. He glance reassured her, and she was able to return to character.
"Passarino, go away for the trap is set and waits for it's prey..." The lilting intro sang by Don Juan was not done by the voice of Piangi. Christine kept her head down but her knuckles went white around the thin stems of her roses. The voice continued, beginning to sing his part in what was one of the most alluring songs of the opera, called "The Point of No Return." Christine longed to turn her head and stare at the singer, to confirm her fears. Slowly, she began to crane her head, her curls falling over her shoulders. Her eyes met his just as he sang, "-of that wish which till now has been silent, silent." He put his finger to lips, gesturing to remain silent. He was magnificent. Piangi was gone, and in his place was Don Juan. Tall and regal in a form-fitting black outfit, with a low cut white shirt and a full black cape. Over his face was a black leather mask which only covered his forehead, eyes and nose, leaving his smooth cheeks bare. Even across the stage, he radiated sexuality and power. Christine fully realized that her duet partner was the Phantom of the opera.
She stared down at her skirt with unseeing eyes. She recalled her past words, how "Don Juan Triumphant" was just a game. The biggest question was whether she would play along. Erik began to sing again, "I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge." Oh God, she thought. Against her will, her eyes closed. His voice was raw and powerful, he sang in a way she had never heard before. "In your mind, you've all ready succumbed to me, dropped all defenses and completely succumbed to me.." And Christine gave up the struggle to remain pure, she joined the game. A soft, wicked smile lite her face as he continued to sing. She opened her eyes to see him still across the stage. He gave his cape a debonair twirl, knowingly shook his regal head then triumphantly sang, "Now you are here with me. No second thoughts. You've decided..." Christine slowly rose, her heart racing in excitement. The Phantom slowly approached her. "Past the point of no return, no backward glances. Our games of make-believe are at an end..." Behind him, graceful male dancers clothed in black began to dance to the sound of racing violins. Christine watched him in fascination. His words held not only the sexual references to the opera, but also seemed to represent their twisted relationship. He reached her.
"Past all thought of if or when; no use resisting!" The Phantom began to circle her, he was a predator and she; the willing prey. He stopped in front of her and sang in an impossibly rich voice, "Abandon thought and let the dream descend." Christine was still mesmerized. She wanted to be touched. Her wish was granted when he next sang, "What raging fires shall flood the soul?" The Phantom gracefully stepped behind her, then seized her body close to his. Her loose sleeves came down and left her white shoulders naked. One large hand held her waist to his, and the other covered her swan-like neck. Into her ear, he sang, "What rich desire unlocks it's door?" Goosebumps rose over the soprano's bare flesh. Tantalizingly slowly, he slid his warm hands from her neck down to her collarbone and breasts, till he held just her white hand while he continued, "What sweet seduction lies before us?" He had brought her hand close to his mouth, and when he sang the word "us" into her palm like a caress. Christine experienced it all in a state of scandalized but heated ecstasy. Never had she felt more alive. The Phantom still held Christine's hand, and he led her across the stage while singing, "Past the point of no return, the final threshold." He released her and continued singing. Once the contact was broken, Christine stared down at the floor. What was she doing? Her basket of roses was near her feet. The girl was dazed at her behavior, but at the same time, she knew that she wasn't going to stop their duet anytime soon. It was too powerful, and she was helpless to resist.
Christine turned back to him again and caught his eyes as he sang, "What warm, unspoken secrets will we learn, beyond the point of no return?" His gaze was intense, packed full of meaning. Still holding his eyes, she self-cautiously pulled up one of her sleeves to try to cover herself. It no longer even mattered whether she was in character, the audience wouldn't know the difference. They were no longer disgusted with the raucous opera, but caught up in the passion and drama between the two singers on stage. Christine was struggling just to maintain standing. She shook her head in disbelief. What had they come to? Suddenly remembering her fiancee, she glanced up towards Raoul. He had a policeman standing behind him. She held his gaze regretfully and sang her poetic introduction, which was just as full of innuendo's as Erik's had been. Raoul jumped and alerted the managers, who were in the box next to him. She wondered how they hadn't noticed that Piangi had been replaced by someone taller, thinner, younger, sexier, and a much better singer. Christine brought her eyes back to the stage, to show Raoul that no action was necessary yet. She knew that he knew that the man playing Don Juan who was pretending to be Passarino was actually the Phantom. Oh Raoul, Christine thought mournfully. She had already partaken in the game, now she was a leading player. Nothing between her and the Vicomte would ever be the same again. She was no longer naïve, after being in this opera and singing to the only man who made her experience lust. A terrified sort of lust, the soprano thought in torment.
She took a deep breath and raised her eyes from the fiery floor of the stage. Don Juan was still standing across from her, his gaze hot and expectant. She had reached a crucial part in the song. It's now or never. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, a sultry smile was on her face. "-In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent...." She faced him, and leaned forward a little, so her sleeves would drop to reveal her naked shoulders. Innocent Christine became a seductress, lowering her eyelids and showing her breasts. "Now I am here with you, no second thoughts. I've decided..." The Phantom smiled knowingly. He had lite the fire with his words and actions, now Christine was alive and burning. They shared an intense look when she repeated, "I've decided." He nodded to her words. Erik turned and began to walk slowly and confidently towards the left end of the staircase. Christine daringly faced the audience and sang, "Past the point of no return, no going back now!" Her voice sounded like nothing anyone had ever heard before. Like always, it was pure, but now her voice had power, confidence, and a driving passion that gave goosebumps to all.
Then, quickly turning so her gold skirt fanned about in the air, she continued, "Our passion play has now at last begun." She began to walk towards the right stairwell. The Phantom stood at the steps of the left, coolly waiting and obviously enjoying Christine's show. She reached the stairwell and grasped the railing. "Past all thought of right or wrong," she sang, and began to slowly walk up. As she walked, her hands ran over the banister and she leaned into it in a highly sexual dance. "one final question-" Christine looked across the stage to Don Juan and purposefully sang, "How long should we two wait before we're one?"
The Phantom was entranced with the singing soprano just as the audience was. They had never experienced such raw emotion in an opera house. The most involved member of the crowd was the young Vicomte. He watched his innocent Christine on the stage and his heart broke. For the first time in years, his eyes filled with tears. His fiancee would never sing to him like that, they would never experience that raw emotion with each other. He would never be enough for her. Just like the words to the song, that night Raoul felt that the three of them were passing the point of no return.
Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Christine sang, "When will the blood begin to race?" The Phantom stood across the thin walkway, appraising her. He gave a cocky smile, then in a fluid motion, removed his cloak and flung it to the side. It gracefully fell to the bottom of the stage. Inspired by his actions, the soprano continued, "When will the sleeping bud burst into bloom?" They walked towards each other, lust shining in both sets of eyes. One last step, then they stood a foot away from each other. Christine looked up at him and dared, "When will the flames, at last, consume us?!"
Swiftly, they grabbed eachother's hips and seized themselves together. Closely, the two sang, "Past the point of no return, the final threshold!" Christine looked up to him, and as they were so close, nearly kissed him as they continued, "The bridge is crossed," then they boldly faced the audience. He slickly spun the girl so her back rested against his lean chest. "So stand and watch it burn!" Calming a bit, she leaned her head against his broad shoulder and he stroked her curls. Christine relaxed and closed her eyes. He sighed. Slowly and surely, they finished, "We've passed the point of no return." The music faded.