Thought Of Everything And Nothing

Chapter 39

Erik

I glared down from box five to the stage. The audience chatter was merely white noise to the melodies of Don Juan singing in my mind. The deep velvet curtains shielding those melodies from the world hung heavy and impenetrable.

I rolled my eyes and clenched my hands into fists. This was pointless. My passive thoughts began to egg at my brain. Thoughts of Christine and her voice. How brilliant she would be. How unbearably beautiful she was.

I growled and poured a generous amount of scotch into my glass. The managers had broken the rule of no drinks in the theater and had given me the finest trolley of drinks, complete with round balls of ice in a silver bucket.

Now, I sat drinking away my annoyances about the issues with the musicians. Human error was disgraceful and I despised hearing each of my works somehow ruined by the people who were supposed to bring my work to life.

Finally,the lights dimmed and the orchestra began it's subtle introduction. The piano pizzicato
slowly crescendoed into a thirty-second note scale that introduced the rest of the orchestra. My hands curled into fists as I listened for the trumpet chorus. If they messed up, I would murder each of them. The fast paced notes flowed neatly through into the woodwind section and the amourous melody arose. I felt myself relax. There would be no problems.

The winding notes from my mind danced around me, and I draines my scotch. My Overture came to an end, but I'd designed it so it would blend perfectly with the first song. Etienne Liska appeared on stage, with Théo L'arlienssene at his heels, holding a two drinks. L'arlienssene, who played Passarino opened his mouth and started the opening duet.

"Mon amie, j'adore ces femmes! Peut-être qu'ils deviendront plus frappants avec le vin?"

L'arlienssene's high tenor rang out with such a comical excitement that the whole theater rumbled with laughter.

I smiled and drank my scotch to honor the stupid character I had created.

Soon after, was the aria I had written for Christine. She looked perfect, making the maid dress of Amnita look like a ball gown. And how she sang! Her eyes closed as she sang of the life she used to lead as an actress. I stood at the edge of mg seat as she began to twirl, singing the complicated scale I had written after listening to Christine sing Hannibal. Just like in Hannibal, the other actors around her surrounded her and turned her ragged dress into a beautiful dress. She pranced around the stage twirling and showing off her dress while singing about the extravagance she used to have. And, just as she was singing about being brought down from her glory, the actors returbed, tearing off the dress, and revealing the tattered servant's garb underneath. It was perfect.

Close to the end of to opera, just as Passarino was discussing his meeting with Amnita, I heard a cough. I whirled around to see André nervously scratching his moustache. "What is it." I demanded, crossing my arms.

André mumbled something and looked at me pleadingly. "Speak up. If you are interrupting me during the premier of my masterpiece you'd better have an excellent excuse." I snarled, glaring at him.

He shriveled, his gloved hands shaking. " A set fell and Monsieur Liska broke his leg and got a concussion"

I growled, and looked at the stage. There, in a red cape and mask, was a Don Juan, "Yes, and you called the understudy. So?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Beads of sweat decorated his brow and the sense of nervousness was clear. "Tell me, why are you nervous?"

H gave up, throwing his hands to his sides, "Because his understudy is sick! That," He said, pointing at the stage, "Is a chorus member who only knows the three lines in this scene!"

I stood, shocked. I closed my eyes, letting the music to envelop me in it's beauty.

"Sir?"

I opened my eyes, and stood, shoving André out of the way as I made my way backstage.

Christine

I heard the voices of Passarino and Don Juan on stage as I got into my next costume. It was a bit risqué, with a low neckline with black lace, and the embroidered pink skirt stopped  about five inches before my ankle  which was fine to me, but apparently "shocking" during period in which Don Juan was set.

I grabbed the intricately embroidered shawl, and wrapped it elegantly around my shoulders

Humming the duet that I was about to do as I walked to the right stage. I didn't see Etienne anywhere and I frowned, he was supposed to be waiting here with me. I grabbed the arm of the nervous-looking intern next to me, "Hey, do you know where Etienne is?"

He gave me a anxious smile, "Don't worry, Miss Daaé, we got Don Juan covered."

I smiled, relieved, and leaned onto the wall. I listened for the
end of the Passarino and Prostitute duet. I heard the belted note and knew that the stage was now dark and the spotlight was on him and the Prostitute. Their duet was one of a steamy nature, with plenty of sensual dancing.

I grabbed the bundle of roses and crept on stage and arranged them on my lap. The audience errupted in applause and laughter and I watched as the two singers danced off stage, kissing. It was hilarious, as the two were actually married in real life. As the applause died down, I looked down at my roses, with a look of dreaminess on my face.

"No thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy!"

I stood skipping over to the table with a beautiful feast laid out. "No dreams within her heart. But dreams of love!"

As I sang the last note, I raised my arms over my head, smiling lustfully at the audience.

I tossed the roses and shawl onto the table, sitting on the bench. I traded them out for a luscious looking apple, playing with it in my hands.

Théo, the actor who played Passarino, returned on stage, wearing the Don Juan costume.

"Master. . ."

I waited for Etienne's voice and. . .

"Passarino, go away! For the trap is set and wait for it's prey!"

I froze completely. That was Erik's voice.