INT.  OPERA HOUSE - DAY
The stage crew prepares for the final rehearsal of The Magic Flute.  MOZART (35, pale but animated) walks swiftly across the stage, his eyes scanning the set.  His wife, CONSTANZE (30, concerned but supportive), watches from the wings.  Mozart coughs lightly but waves it off.

CONSTANZE
(softly)
Wolfgang, you should rest.  You've been pushing yourself too hard.

MOZART
(smiling)
Rest?  With the premiere tomorrow?  No, no.  There’s still so much to refine!  The Queen of the Night’s aria—she must pierce the heavens, Stanzi!

CONSTANZE
But your health—

MOZART
(interrupting, gently)
Music is my health.

They exchange a quiet look before Mozart turns to the STAGE MANAGER (40s), who is standing by, clipboard in hand.

MOZART
(to Stage Manager)
Is Tamino ready for his entrance?  I need him sharp, like the sword in his hand!

STAGE MANAGER
Everything’s set, Maestro.

MOZART
Good!  Let’s go from the top!

The orchestra begins to play.  Mozart’s face lights up as he steps to the front of the stage, his hands conducting the air with precise, graceful movements.  As the music swells, his energy transforms—illness momentarily forgotten.

CUT TO:

EXT. CITY STREET - DAY (FLASHBACK)
Mozart, younger, strides down a busy street in Vienna.  His clothes are worn, and he looks tired but determined.  He holds a letter in his hand.

MOZART
(voiceover, in the present)
Vienna has always been a battlefield...  My music, my weapon.

He reaches a grand building, standing at the foot of it, gazing up.  The door looms large.  He hesitates, clutching the letter tightly.  After a moment, he pushes forward and enters.

INT.  PATRON’S SALON - DAY (FLASHBACK)
Inside, COUNT ROSENBERG (50s, aristocratic) lounges on a plush chair, idly flipping through sheets of music.  Mozart stands nervously before him.

COUNT ROSENBERG
(flatly)
Your proposal lacks...  grandeur.  The court expects more refinement, Mozart.

MOZART
(earnest)
But the heart of it, Count, the soul—this is the future of music.  I need support, the resources to bring it to life.

COUNT ROSENBERG
(sighing)
Perhaps you’ve overestimated the appeal of your little experiments.

Mozart stiffens, his fingers twitching as if ready to play.

MOZART
(biting back frustration)
My experiments...  will change the world.

Rosenberg raises an eyebrow but remains indifferent.

COUNT ROSENBERG
We shall see.

CUT TO:

INT.  OPERA HOUSE - DAY
Back in the present, the rehearsal halts abruptly as one of the singers falters.  The QUEEN OF THE NIGHT (SOPRANO, 30s) struggles with her high notes.

MOZART
(firm, but kind)
No, no, no.  You must reach—feel the stars, the universe above you!  Again!

The singer nods nervously and tries again, hitting the high note.  The sound soars through the hall.  Mozart closes his eyes, savoring the moment, but suddenly he’s seized by a violent cough.

CONSTANZE
(rushing to him)
Wolfgang!

Mozart waves her off, though his face is pale and drenched in sweat.

MOZART
It’s...  nothing.

CONSTANZE
(whispers)
It’s not nothing.

She helps him offstage, guiding him to sit.  He gasps for breath, but his eyes remain fixed on the stage, determined.

MOZART
(weakly)
The music...  must go on.

CONSTANZE
(tears welling)
Not at the cost of your life.

MOZART
(smiling faintly)
What’s one life...  compared to a masterpiece?

The music continues in the background, a haunting, ethereal melody.

FADE OUT.