I recently had the opportunity to go to the Tennessee Performing Arts Center (TPAC) in Nashville, TN, to see the sequel musical of the The Phantom of the Opera, called Love Never Dies. The aftermath is what mentally and physically drained me.

After the first musical The Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber, Christine and Raoul run off together in the finishing scenes while the Phantom hides himself away. Ten years later, the Phantom runs a side show in Coney Island in New York. He poses as Oscar Hammerstein to lure Christine to his show to sing once more for an audience. To her surprise, she lugs around Raoul, which her marriage to him is rocky, and her son, Gustave.

She soon finds out that it was none other than the Phantom, himself, that devised this master plan. The Phantom and Christine had one night of passion that led to her musical child, Gustave, and Christine held that secret in for ten years and pretended that it was Raoul's son. With tension in her marriage, and pent up passion towards the Phantom...she is found, yet again, in this confusing love triangle.

Love Never Dies is a beautiful continuation of the love we never really got to experience as an audience between Christine and the Phantom. The casting could not have been more perfect, and I could really feel the emotions lingering between each note and phrase as they sang. And I could not even hold back my tears as Meg Giry went crazy with jealousy and accidentally shot Christine, and the scene between her and the Phantom finally being together one last time... too sentimental. It made me fiery with rage, because through all of the heartache and the pain, they could never be together. The truest form of tragic love, forbidden love, and unrequited love.

This show was never my first option, and I truthfully didn't give it a chance. But my mother bought tickets for me, and I was just going through the motions until I finally got the opportunity to see it. Live it. It was a beautiful ensemble with the most amazing sets. I was there experiencing it, and I couldn't have been more in love. My love for Webber's work, for his art, will surely never die.