Erik sat on the edge of the pier, tears in his eyes. He'd been so sure that Christine would be his now. He'd won the bet. Christine had sang, and gloriously too. The viscount had begun his journey back to France, left a note of farewell for Christine. Everything would be perfect from then on. He was so sure.
And yet when Christine had read the note she'd gone after that drunken idiot, taking the boy- his son- to get him and bring him back. She'd looked miserable about it once they were back together at Phantasma. The way she looked at Erik when they all sat down together told him she loved him far more than she'd ever loved the viscount. But she'd meant it when she'd said there was no future for them. She was a married woman, and would not break her wedding vows.
Erik had handed Raoul a wad of cash at least double enough to cover his gambling debts. Raoul had stared open-mouthed at him.
"I don't understand. Christine sang."
"Do you think I would let Christine and Gustave live in poverty?" Erik had snapped at him. "Much as I'd love to leave you to sink lower and lower into debt and a bottle, they deserve better. Use the extra money to make sure they're happy and taken care of."
Raoul lowered his head. He knew Erik was right about him not thinking of his wife and the child. And in that moment he knew that for all Erik's dark past, Erik was a better man than him. He would never have hurt Christine that way. he'd proved that once before, all those ten long years ago when he'd given them their freedom, no matter how much it hurt to say goodbye to Christine. The Phantom had always given, while Raoul had only taken.
"I do have one request," Erik had told both Christine and her husband. "I would like to offer Gustave a chance to stay here. I want to get to know him, and I feel I have that right."
Christine nodded.
"He's your son, Erik. I never did feel right about keeping him from you."
So it was arranged. Of course, Erik would never separate Gustave from his mother. Christine would stay and continue to sing at the concert hall. Much as Erik hated it Raoul would be staying as well. Erik had warned him that if he ever so much as touched a drop of alcohol or deck of cards, even looked in the direction of a bar or casino he'd be worse than dead. So far the threat had worked. Erik kept very close watch to be sure.
In some ways, if it weren't for getting to know Gustave, Erik would have hated this worse than not having Christine near at all. It was like all those years he'd spent teaching her to sing. There she was, so close, but an invisible barrier separating them. A mirror or a marriage, something always keeping them apart when they were so close it hurt. But at least this way he knew both she and Gustave were safe and taken care of.
Gustave. Such an amazing child. He'd taken it much better than expected when he'd learned Erik was his real father. The child was able to look at Erik without the mask now, all his former fear gone, and with each day the two found more and more they had in common. They truly were kindred spirits.
But each day was one more day of seeing Christine with her viscount as well. So that morning while Gustave slept Erik went down to the pier and tried to focus on something else, to have at least a few moments when his thoughts weren't on Christine.
The solitude was broken when Meg came up dressed in a bathing suit.
"Oh!" she gasped, surprised to see him. 'What are you doing here?"
"Thinking," he answered briefly. It was the first time since they'd come to America that he'd actually spoken to her rather than merely responding to something she said and brushing her aside. That was enough to make Meg smile.
"It's a good place to do that," she said. "What are you thinking about?"
"I think I might be selling Phantasma, all but the concert hall. I'll sell it to Fleck, Squelch, and Gangle so they won't have to worry about someone cruel taking it over and mistreating them."
"But- but this place was your dream!"
He shook his head.
"Being with Christine was my dream. This place was only the way to achieve that. I hated every moment of it."
Meg burst out crying then.
"All this, all everything everyone put into this place, it was all just so you could see her again?"
Erik looked at her, confused. She turned back to him.
"And what exactly am I supposed to do once Phantasma is sold?" she demanded.
"I've thought about that too. Meg, there isn't going to be any more 'ooh la, la girl'."
If possible her grief seemed to double.
'But I can do better! I know I can! Please!"
"That's exactly the problem," Erik said, still confused about why she was acting this way. "You can do better. You can do better than just performing for people who are there to watch your body rather than your dancing. Just like when people used to come to see me perform magic and sing just to have their senses of sight and sound satisfied. Not one of them really heard the music, appreciated art of any kind. That's part of the reason I hate this place. It reminds me too much of when I was-" He stopped.
"You grew up in a freak show, didn't you?"
Her mother must have told her how they met, Erik realized.
"I don't want to talk about that." He sighed. 'That's the only thing about this place I'm glad of. Here the people society calls freaks can walk among men, be treated like people. Not kept in a ca-" Again he stopped himself. Meg got the feeling Erik did want to talk about it. It was painful, but it was like a wound that needed to be drained before it could heal. More importantly, he needed someone to help him heal. If he could leave the hurt behind he could be a much different person, see everything, including the incredible place he'd built, differently. Even so though, he'd never see her differently. Suddenly Meg was angry, furious. All the pain in her had to be released as well.
"You stupid idiot!" She pushed him. "You complain about how unfair life was because you were always treated cruelly and nobody ever loved you, and yet when love looks you right in the face you turn your back on it!"
Thinking she meant when he'd been too ashamed of what he was to stay with Christine, Erik's own anger rose.
"When love looks me right in the face? How could love ever look me in the face!" He took off the mask, expecting the usual scream, but Meg didn't make a sound. Instead she froze only a moment before she reached out and touched the distorted flesh. Erik didn't know how to react. Her touch was much gentler than what he'd expected. He felt the heat rise in him and, feeling embarrassed, he put the mask back on and looked away.
"Anyway, as I was going to say before, I don't intend to leave you and your mother without a way to survive. After all, dancers will be needed at the concert hall." he looked at her again. "You are a very talented dancer, Meg. Back in Paris you were the best dancer the Opera Populaire ever had, and I saw many dancers over the years. Your mother was the only one I ever saw who could equal you."
The difference was like turning on a light. Mag looked like she felt- well, the way he'd felt that first time Christine had kissed him. Suddenly he realized he'd never complimented her before.
"Meg, it wasn't because I think you don't have talent that I never watched you perform. I simply had no interest in the shows compared to- Well, and even without that, the music I wrote for it wasn't any good. When- when Christine and I parted, she took the music with her." He sighed. "Bathing Beauty- just garbage. Just cheap vaudeville trash. I used to be able to write better than that. But the music of the night is over."
Meg felt like screaming. His thoughts were still on Christine. Always Christine!
"What does it feel like? To look at her and know that no matter how deeply you love her she'll never be with you, that part of her heart will always be someone else's, and everything you've done for her doesn't matter in the least? What does it feel like?"
She didn't say it- or rather scream it- as if she were trying to hurt him. She sounded like she was trying to make him see something. Erik looked at her and saw for the first time that every mention of Christine made her look exactly like he felt at the mention of the viscount. And that comment she'd made about turning away from love... Was she trying to tell him that she loved him? Impossible. Why would he mean anything to her? But that look on her face. How could he not have seen? He had hurt her the way Christine had hurt him. Whether he felt anything close to love for Meg or not he wouldn't wish that on her.
She'd turned to look at the water now, and for the first time Erik saw how truly beautiful she was.
"I never truly saw you before-" he whispered. "You are beautiful."
She looked like she wanted to say something, but was too overwhelmed.
'You know- swimming is a wonderful way to relieve the pain. It washes everything right away.' She said finally and tuned to him. "Come into the water?"
He shook his head. "I don't own swimming trunks." His body was scarred from his childhood master's cruel whippings. He didn't like people seeing his body any more than he liked them seeing his face. But Meg had a wicked grin on her face. She wasn't taking no for an answer. The next thing Erik knew he was soaked to the bone with Meg in the water.
"Margarete Giry you immature..." But to his surprise he found himself laughing and sending a big splash at Meg, which she returned. They playfully dunked and splashed each other for nearly half an hour before Erik stopped to think. He was actually having fun! For the first time in his life he was really having fun. And the music in his head was different now. Just as pure and unearthly, but he found that he could give it a voice now if he tried to.
Slowly, he leaned in, his lips coming closer to Meg's. She didn't pull back. In fact she leaned in. Their lips met for the first time, but certainly not the last.
