Author's note: For those of you who have seen the movie Centre Stage, the first ballet is like Jonathan's ballet that's "about the music".

See the chapter seven A/N if you need to be reminded what the dresses look like :)

The rehearsal went surprisingly well, all things considered, the manager seemed pleased and didn’t change his mind about Christine performing, all of the pre-bought ticket holders were sent messages informing them of the change, her father had time to talk to her quickly and wish her luck, she even had time to go back to her room for a quick rest and find one of the infamous red roses left by the Opera Ghost for those he favoured.

“At least I won’t have to worry about something falling on me,” she’d said to herself when she found it. She wondered who had really left it there, not that she didn’t believe in the Ghost just that she didn’t believe he, or she, was a spirit.

All too soon it was time for the show to begin, with Christine standing to one side while the ballerinas prepared to go on. Monsieur Lefevre was on the stage at that moment welcoming the people and explaining the circumstances.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Opera Populaire. I, along with the cast and crew, hope you will enjoy this evening’s performance. It is my great regret to inform you that our leading lady, Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, cannot perform tonight. Her place has been taken by Mademoiselle Christine Daae; her understudy and a promising young talent. Thank you.”

There were a few whispers amongst the audience but no one left and they all seemed content to wait and see. In the shadowy corners of Box Five Erik settled down to watch the show – he had no illusions about Christine’s abilities and was anticipating the audience’s reaction with great delight.

The first ballet of the piece, which received great applause as always, was actually very somber and visually subdued. It was intended to represent the funeral of the main character. Next the men’s and women’s choruses came onstage as the mourners at the funeral and sang about her. Finally the priest character read a eulogy that ended with the words:

“She once said that her life was lived as the seasons of the world pass, it began with Spring and ended with a long cold winter but now she goes to eternal summer.”

The mourners left the stage and the bleak funeral background was quickly and expertly replaced with a cheerful garden setting into which a young woman dressed all in white walked.

Christine Daae did not, it was quietly agreed by the audience, have La Carlotta’s stage presence – where the diva would have swept onstage to gain their attention she walked, not looking at them, as though she really was alone in a garden. There were no grand gestures, no indication at all that her song was about to begin until the music started to swell and she turned to face the audience.

Erik couldn’t help smirking at the audience’s response of shocked silence as she finished the song, without a single mistake in lyrics or technique he noted proudly, and curtsied briefly before exiting stage left. She had played the part to perfection and after the initial surprise wore off the audience applauded quite sincerely.

During rehearsals La Carlotta had complained, quite frequently, of the fact she had only one song in the first act. Christine however was grateful for the interval in which there was a long ballet and song for the chorus during which she could change her dress and have her hair and makeup redone for the second act.

The ballet involved the girls dressed in bright coloured costumes dancing a celebration of Spring and the point of the chorus’ song was to detail the young woman’s fall into some rather disreputable, though high born, company leading to her reputation as a notorious flirt.

Backstage Christine was struggling to walk gracefully in a pair of shoes that seemed to consist entirely of high heels and slender straps.

“Meg,” she said helplessly to her friend, who had her back to her. “I can’t walk in these let alone flirt and dance!”

“Of course you can Christine. Just take a deep breath and...” Meg started speaking as she turned and stopped when she saw Christine’s costume.

“Well... maybe not a really deep breath!”

“Meg Giry don’t you dare tease me or I’ll leave right now!”

“You look...”

“Don’t tell me, I really don’t want to know... I just want to get this over with, I feel so exposed.”

“Amazing, Christine, really beautiful!”

“Are you looking at the same costume I’m wearing?” exclaimed Christine.

She was feeling unbelievably self-conscious, worse than she did in her ballet costumes even though they were skimpier, the dress covered more but felt like less. It was loose enough that she could breathe to sing but every time she took a deep breath it looked like her bosom was going to spill over the bodice.

“I feel ridiculous.”

Meg was still partially stunned by the fact that this amazing looking woman was the same girl who always wore proper clothes outside her dancing costumes and wouldn’t dream of wearing any kind of cosmetic.

“Didn’t you look in the mirror?” exclaimed Meg.

“I didn’t dare,” explained Christine.

“You should,” said Meg and Christine found the statement quite cryptic. “You have time.”

“I can’t, I really can’t,” protested Christine. Meg gave her a very stern look then dragged her over to the mirror in the wings that the performers used for last minute checks of their costumes and so on.

“I look... I don’t look at all like me, do I Meg?”

“You look wonderful, and you do look like you just not the you you are at the moment.”

“I can’t do this, Meg.” Christine turned to her friend and let her see all of her worry and nervousness. Meg knew that Christine was far more capable of performing than she gave herself credit for – she recalled the first time Christine had been on stage as a dancer.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time you danced on stage?”

“Of course I remember that I was so nervous and embarrassed I could hardly stand up and you said... Don’t worry about them, all that matters is the dance. I do remember that.”

“Same principle,” Meg assured her. “It’s all about the song and the dance – the fact people are watching you is a minor inconvenience.”

“Dancing and singing in front of all those people is a little more than ‘minor’!”

“No,” disagreed Meg emphatically. “It isn’t. Just pick one person to perform for and pretend that everyone else isn’t there,” continued the ballerina who used the same method herself and only performed for her mother.

“I always think of Mama for singing and Papa for dancing – there is no way I can do that now, I’d never get onto the stage!”

“I agree but surely there is someone.” Meg’s expression grew mischievous. “What about Monsieur Rousseau?”

“Meg Giry! What a suggestion!”

Even as she protested Christine began wonder if it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all Erik had told her that he intended to attend her first performance before either of them had any idea she would be performing tonight.

“That still leaves the problem of the dance,” said Christine, not blatantly agreeing with what Meg had suggested but not completely disregarding the idea. “Carlotta’s way – even with the story and the costume – it doesn’t work for me. I haven’t had time to rehearse and alter it for myself.”

“Christine,” said Meg with an air of long suffering patience. “You and I have been inventing dances for music no one else could hear since we were children.”

“What’s your point?”

“Good heavens you must be nervous!” exclaimed Meg. “My point is that if her way doesn’t work then do it your way!”

“Surely Monsieur Lefevre would not...”

“How is he to know until after you are done? If he has things to say after the fact tell him the truth – you did not have time to learn the dance properly so you used your earlier experience to improvise.”

“Meg you are brilliant!” Christine hugged her tightly. “Thank you.”

“Five minutes, Mam’selle Daae.” called one of the stage hands.

“That’s my cue to get changed,” said Meg. “Show them what you can do Christine!”

“I’m ready now.” said Christine feeling as confident as she had looked to everyone else.

The curtain closed briefly while the chorus left the stage and was replaced by a number of couples in formal dress. As the curtains opened again the orchestra began playing a well known slow dance at about half the normal speed. The dance was slowed down accordingly (something that had taken several extra weeks of practice for the dancers). The dancers, or rather the characters, were all engaged in some equally well choreographed gossip about the character played by Christine.

“I hear she’s quite a beauty.”

“A terrible flirt is what I hear.”

“She lived in France and you know what that means!”

This particular opera was a new English production and it was only after some debate that that line was not removed.

“I hear many ladies are jealous of the attention she receives,” finished one of the gentlemen in a stage whisper that caused the ladies to stop and glare at him.

Erik took little notice of the opening of the second act, except to note that one of the dancer’s was out of time with the music, his attention was entirely fixed on the left side of the stage. The opera was new, never performed before in Paris, so he had only Carlotta’s rehearsal and a ‘borrowed’ copy of the script to base his expectations on; he couldn’t see Christine performing the part in the same way as Carlotta and hoped she had the good sense not to try to. He was not disappointed, right from her entrance Christine played the part differently.

Christine‘s Angelique sidled onto the stage, holding her black feathered fan in one hand in front of her, and exclaimed girlishly.

“Oh I am so dreadfully sorry that I am late.”

The dancers jumped in genuine surprise at her sudden appearance (though it was supposed to be feigned surprise) because they were expecting her to strut onto the stage drawing attention to herself as Carlotta did. The exclamation of lateness was not part of the dialogue, though the fact was mentioned in the stage directions as ‘Angelique arrives late to the party and surprises the guests’.

The cast recovered quickly enough that the pace of the act was not interrupted and the show continued with Angelique gesturing to the orchestra and bidding them:

“Pray play something more suited to a party than a funeral lest we all die of boredom!”

The gentleman, played by Signor Piangi, previously identified as the master of the house nodded his approval and the band started playing a different piece. The dancers moved to the sides leaving Christine/Angelique alone in the center.

‘If I hadn’t heard her speak I wouldn’t recognise her!’ declared Erik in the privacy of his own mind. He was close enough to see nearly every detail of her costume.

Her hair was pinned up, and back, he was no expert on women’s hairstyles but it had been arranged so it was pulled back from her face but still hung loose down her back. He could make out enough of the details of her face, and he’d spent enough time studying her features to have memorised each one, to see that the makeup they seemed to put on all of the female cast members (and some of the males depending on the part) was present but understated enough that it emphasised rather than overpowered her natural beauty.

It seemed like an eternity passed while she stood in the center of the stage and he absorbed every detail of her face. When he finally managed to tear his eyes from her it was just as she moved the fan to the side and curtseyed to the master of the house. The angle of the gesture was such that it could have been made to him, in fact in Christine’s mind he was the only person who could see her because his opinion was the only one that mattered.

The dress was bright red, her skin was very pale and there seemed to be far more of the latter than the former. The gown’s wide straps sat on her below her shoulders, level with the top of the bodice. A black choker formed a dark line across her throat but only drew his attention for a moment.

This was a Christine he had never seen before, both literally and in the sense of her attitude, he never thought she would be able to appear so confident and comfortable in a role like this. Erik felt like he should reprimand himself for staring so fixedly at her but he couldn’t, there was no reason – or perhaps it was that there too many to choose from – he just could not feel guilty so instead he took full advantage of the unlikely to be repeated circumstances and watched as Christine/Angelique’s request for more lively music was obeyed and she stood up from her curtsey.

Christine moved to the centre and middle of the stage, surrounded by people dancing, and began what was probably the most demanding song of the opera. Angelique sang about being ‘A carefree girl with no regrets’.

By the end of the first verse and chorus Erik, while enjoying her voice immensely, had found several notes that were difficult for her to reach and hold as long as necessary. He was fairly confident that the only people who had the expertise to notice were he, Reyer and the other singers.

Christine herself knew that she did not have the vocal range for the finale of the song – it was written for a fully trained soprano voice – but she had the good sense to do as Erik had taught her when she became Carlotta’s understudy and held the notes at a level she was comfortable with. Erik had insisted that it was better, for the song and her voice; to sing notes she could hold and do well rather than trying to reach the higher notes and sounding like she was struggling. At least some of the members of the audience would know enough to tell that she did not have Carlotta’s range but that didn’t stop the applause when she finished the song.

The end of the song coincided with the end of the dance and left the dancers positioned around the stage. Breathlessly Angelique walked to the edge of the stage and, leaning over slightly, winked then shook her folded fan at the orchestra.

“Surely that is not the best you do?”

The audience laughed quietly at the tone of exasperation in her voice and Erik smiled, the way he only did when he was around her. Having seen a number of her dances with Meg Giry he was anticipating this almost as much as he had her singing.

The music started playing softly and Angelique turned to the gentlemen on stage and made a sort of half curtsey.

“Shall we dance?” she invited them with a flick of her fan. The gentlemen all refused, politely and silently, though one looked about to agree until his lady pulled him back.

“No?” She sighed and turned to face the audience, holding the fan over the lower half of her face. She picked up one side of skirt, exposing a slender black-stocking covered ankle in the process, and held her fan arm out to the side and curtseyed as though she did have a partner.

“Then I shall dance alone!”

The music changed with her declaration, it was fast and sounded exotic. Her dance was astonishing – especially if someone happened to be close enough to see the heeled sandals she was dancing in – she was bold, sometimes moving completely out of time with music only to be completely in time again in the next moment. During the course of the dance she flirted with every male dancer in the room, mainly by coyly covering her face with the fan and fluttering her lashes at them before whirling away across the stage. She finished with a low curtsey that was nearly a crouch and a blown kiss to the master of the house then straightened up and danced offstage.

The dancers moved top the back of the stage and Piangi, the master of the house, stepped forward to sing his solo for the act – ‘This wild girl must be tamed’ – which outlined his intentions of marrying the girl.

As soon as she was offstage Christine dropped onto the nearest chair and started shaking.

“Christine! That was amazing!” squealed Meg. Bolting across to see her friend. “Are you alright? You need to get changed.”

Christine took a deep breath and smiled at Meg.

“I think I’m going to be ill!”

“Not until you finish the show,” said Madame Lamoureux, helping Christine stand up and leading both of them to the small dressing room next to the stage where Madame Giry was also waiting to check on her.

“Christine, that dancing! Did you hurt your feet?”

“No, no, Madames I am fine, really,” replied Christine as Meg helped her take the shoes off and started unpinning her hair for her. Madame Lamoureux left for a moment and returned with the next costume.

“Hurry up, the chorus is on again already!”

While Christine had been having her minor fit of hysterics offstage Piangi had finished his solo and been replaced by the chorus whose song consisted of gossip about Angelique, it was called ‘Oh how she has changed!’

The high necked dark green dress went straight over the top of the red one. One of Madame Lamoureux’s assistants washed off the makeup from the second act while another girl took over the rearranging of her hair into a severe braid. She put on another pair of shoes and went to wait for her cue to go onstage, with a short pause about halfway there for a glass of water from Madame Giry.

“Don’t forget this.” said Meg, handing her the black fan and giving a quick hug for luck. The fan was the only thing Angelique, now a ‘Madame’ and proper wife, had left from her wild younger days.

Again the curtain came down briefly while the chorus left the stage and was replaced by a scene very similar to the party of some years before. Angelique danced with her husband though it was very obvious to Erik (admittedly a biased observer) that it was Christine’s skill that made Piangi look good at it. Fortunately they only had to dance a little then Piangi led her ‘outside’, to the front of the stage where they sang a short duet – he asked her if she was happy and she reassured him that she was. She told him that she needed some air and he went back inside, the tone of the music changed as Angelique studied the black fan in her right hand.

“Of course I’m happy. What’s not to like? I’m rich and respected a wife and a mother but wouldn’t you know it? I miss her – the girl who wore red...”

At the end of those spoken lines the next song began, a bittersweet tribute to Angelique’s lost youth and ‘the girl who wore red, who flirted and danced all night long.’

The stiff clockwork dancers continued in the background as though nothing had changed and at the end of the song Piangi approached Christine and spoke to her.

“My dear, our guests are missing you.”

“I’ll be just a moment.”

“And though you’d never know it and I’d never show it – I do miss her!”

Christine finished with a flourish, stepped back into the ballroom, and the curtains were brought down.

Erik didn’t even pause to consider the fact his applause might be heard from the supposedly empty box five, he clapped as loudly and enthusiastically as most of the audience.

While the next ballet, ‘The falling of the Autumn leaves’, was performed Christine changed into her next costume. The same white dress as the first act but this time covered by a thick white shawl. In the fourth, and final, act Angelique was an old woman, which meant Christine ended up with a lot of white powder in her hair ad another shade of pale powder on her face. When speaking of this song during the rehearsal Monsieur Reyer had instructed her to ‘sing as a young woman even though the character is no longer young.’

Erik didn’t even notice the ballerina’s performance, though he normally did pay attention if only so he could compliment Ellene later. He’d had the misfortune of hearing Carlotta sing the last song powerfully but not youthfully and he agreed with Reyer’s interpretation – that it should be sung in the voice of the young woman whose life the story was about.

The ballet had finished and the curtain gone down and up again while he’d been lost in his thoughts of how Christine would interpret this song. There stood Angelique, an old woman now, surrounded by her children and grandchildren, uttering her final spoken line of the piece.

“Now, dear ones, you shall know all of the seasons of my life, ‘ere I pass into Death’s kind hands.”

The song was titled ‘All the seasons of my life’ and the music followed the same pattern as the music of the first three acts.

When she sang of her youth, ‘My Springtime’, it had the same music as the first act solo, also a song about Spring.

‘Summertime’ spoke of her notorious young adulthood, which ‘til now her family had only heard in rumours, it had the same demanding music as the second act and she did noticeably falter in several places.

The third piece ‘Bittersweet Autumn’ was about the years of her marriage and contained some of the lines from ‘The girl who wore red.’

Finally she sang about the latest years of her life, her joy in the accomplishments of her children and theirs, and the last line of the whole thing.

“And though I’ve had my regrets I can honestly say I have loved all the seasons of my life.”

Angelique dropped into a curtsey, one of those theatrical gestures in this case intended to portray her dying, and was helped up and escorted offstage by a figure in a dark hooded robe.

The curtain was lowered while the entire cast assembled onstage to take their bows and curtseys. Christine was quietly congratulated by many of them before the curtain went up again and they were all applauded then Piangi led her to the very front of the stage and the rest of the cast departed while they bowed, and curtseyed, again.

Erik slipped out of Box Five, while they were still applauding, he smiled as he walked in the shadows of the back ways of the opera house – he was so proud of her, and so... so in love with her that he couldn’t deny it to himself any longer for that he’d been trying for months to ignore it.

Christine scanned the figures of the applauding audience, smiling graciously at all of them, wondering which of them was Erik – she had known he was there but of course didn’t know what he looked like.

‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him,’ she thought as she curtseyed several times and waved to the people throwing flowers onto the stage. The adrenaline rush of her first public performance in a lead role was beginning to wear off and she whispered quietly to Piangi that she was feeling faint and might they leave the stage soon. Piangi nodded and led her offstage to the waiting Madame Giry who had that look in her eyes.

“Please Madame; whatever it is will it wait until I have slept awhile? I can scarcely see past the end of my nose right now.”

Ellene’s eyes softened as she saw how exhausted the young woman looked.

“Of course. Meg will take you upstairs before all the people wanting to meet and talk to you arrive.”

“You were wonderful,” Meg assured her as they walked through the same back passages Erik had used only a quarter of an hour earlier.

“It felt wonderful!” said Christine. “But now I am so tired I can hardly stand and I just know people are going to yell at me tomorrow!”

“Don’t worry about it until tomorrow-you are the best understudy they could have had.”

Of course Meg was biased but her words reassured Christine and she laughed softly.

“I did do a passable job didn’t I?”

At that comment Meg giggled and made pretence of chasing her friend up to the ballet girl’s bathing room where Christine dozed off in the bath several times before Meg came back from returning the costume to Madame Lamoureux. She took her back to her rooms where Gustav was waiting to congratulate her and give her a short kiss goodnight; he’d been able to see all of her performance from his position in the orchestra pit and would have had some comments to make if she hadn’t been nearly asleep on her feet. As it was he simply said ‘we’ll talk in the morning’ and left Christine to dream of dancing and singing on stage.