Opening night had arrived and the house was abuzz with fear and anticipation. Janice focused her duties. As part of her punishment, she had been charged to helping the seamstresses with completing the dancers' costumes and there was a lot left to be done. Thankful for something to keep her occupied, she threw herself into it. She completed her tasks with just enough time to dress herself, warm up and run through a few pieces with her dance partner. They'd never really done paired choreography before, so she wanted to be sure she had it down perfectly. For him.

An hour before curtain, the gaurds began filing in and occupying every inconvenient place they could, just as she had suspected. They hadn't the first idea about how a theatre was run, and by their demeanor, nor did they care. Janice doubted they'd ever even attended a performace before. She'd grown almost concieted in her resentment of the disrespect shown to art, creation and performance. Before she met the Phantom, she'd lived in a bubble of ignorance and naivete. Living the past five years in the ballet, she'd had nothing to think about other than dancing and whatever girlish intrigues the others twittered about. But now she saw. Far more than she ever would have wanted, but could no longer imagine being blind to.

After perfecting her hair and make-up and putting the last touches on her Spanish-style costume, she slipped her small body into a corner of the stage-right wing so she could watch as best she could. The orchestra began and the curtain raised and the music began to fill her. He'd even somehow managed to make Carlotta sound good. Her peircing tone matched the chaotic arrangement. Janice blinked back tears as she could feel his heart in every note and chord. When the opening number was over, the whole house fell into a deathly silence. Creeping forward, she peeked into the audience to see looks of horror and disgust on the faces of the patrons. She sneered at them and retreated back into the shadows.

Ignorant. Ungrateful. Tasteless. Her resentment reached a fever pitch and began to brew into a seething rage. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. It wasn't until the orchestra began again that she felt soothed. She let the soft music take her, Piangi's voice an afterthought to her. It had calmed her enough that when she heard Christine's voice, it didn't completely grate her nerves to sawdust.

"No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy. No dreams within her heart but dreams of light."

Truer words could not have been said of the both of them, Janice snickered to herself as she returned to her place in the wings. It would be a while before the first dance suite, though Meg and some of the more buxom dancers had been given featured spots in earlier sets. She stared at Christine, wondering how she could not be impressed.

"Passarino. Go away for the trap it is set and waits for it's prey."

Her blood ran cold. That was not Piangi's voice. Her eyes darted upstage to find the broad form of the Phantom in full costume, complete with black mask and Spanish cape. Her breath caught in her throat. He came for her. He knows the danger, the gaurds posted in every nook and corner, armed to the teeth. Raoul and the managers watching from their prized box seats. And he boldly steps onto the stage, singing such poingant words in his dark, seductive voice. She glanced back to Christine and saw the conflict in her eyes. Janice searched her eyes for any sign of genuine attraction, or even appreciation. There was none. Only the vapid look of her falling the power his voice had over her fighting with her obvious desire to run in fear. How could she?

"Past all thought of if or when, no use resisting. Abandon thought and let the dream descend."

The Phantom had advanced on Christine. His hands were on her. He slipped behind her and put his arms around her. Janice's stomach tied in knots.

"What raging fires shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks it's door? What sweet seduction lies before us?"

She couldn't look away. It was the worst torture imaginable and she couldn't tear her eyes away. She couldn't even cry. Not only could she not show her true emotions, but her pain was so deep tears simply did not come. She just watched the scene unfold before her in enthralled silence.

Luckily for her, everyone was staring by now. It was clearly not Piangi on stage any longer and while some suspected the identity of the new performer, most were just scared and confused.

Christine began singing and Janice went numb. The bredth of her emotion had finally reached a breaking point. All she cared about now was the well-being of the Phantom. If he wanted Christine and this last ditch effort managed to convince her, she would do everything in her power to preserve them. If Christine betrayed him for the final time, she would dedicate her life to protecting him. Or risk her life, whichever comes first.