AFTER WATCHING THE PLAY LOVE NEVER DIES, I COULDN'T HELP BUT THINK HOW THE PHANTOM AND GUSTAVE'S RELATIONSHIP WOULD HAVE BEEN LIKE. THIS IS SET A FEW YEARS AFTER CHRISTINE DIES. JUST A BUNCH OF ONE SHOTS FOLLOWING THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN GUSTAVE AND HIS FATHER PLEASE R&R IDEAS? SUGGESTION ARE WELCOMED!
Gustave's Pov
"Gustave that's enough practicing for today, it's time to come home." My Father said immediately I jumped at the sound of his voice, turning away from the piano bench I glanced sheepishly up at him. I hadn't heard him enter the room.
I was glad to see that his face held no signs of anger or impatientness , instead he seemed genuinely amused. Earlier I had asked for his permission to go into Phantasma, we had just finished constructing a new piece to the amusement park attraction and I, and a handful of others wanted to be the first to try it.
But somehow I had wandered up in the concert hall, promising to myself that I would just play the piano for only a few minutes just until the line grew down but in reality I had ended up spending the whole day here.
"I'm sorry. I've lost track the time again." I replied standing up, quickly gathering my sheet music that were thrown on top of the piano. I stuffed them into my folder quickly before my father could view them.
Before I could even object he quickly snatched one of the papers out of my reach, his eyes scanned the notes.
"Father! That's private!" I exclaimed, shocked and mortified that he was reviewing my work. My Father was a musician and a great composer. I knew that he would happily critique my compositions if I let him, but I didn't want to know what he would say if my work wasn't what he had expected for his prodigy to be. I couldn't handle the shame that would come from disappointing him.
"It's not even finished." I defended myself, faking nonchalance. "so don't expect some type of beautiful aria or anything...and in my defence I wrote when I was half asleep also the lighting was poor seeing as my candle was going to flicker out at any moment and_"
"Hush Gustave this is very good." He stated, handing me the paper back. "Do not doubt your talent."
"Thank you." My lips automatically tugging up into a smile at his praise.
"Come now, we should return home. I don't want you catching a cold." My Father said deliberately eyeing my attire with a disapproving stare. "What happened to your jacket?"
"Oh I um left it at the house." He sighed, and then began to shrug out of his overcoat handing it to me. "Father that's not necessary. I'll be fine_"
"Yes this is necessary because I don't want you getting sick. You and I both know what a weak immune system you have. If you had just worn your jacket like I had told you to in the first place then_"
I sighed wondering why he was so overprotective. If I had so much coughed or sneezed my father was convinced that I was coming down with something. Forcing me to swallow revolting spoonfuls of cod liver oil and other remedy's.
I nodded my head, pretending to listen as he continued to chastised me, my interest only perking up when he asked me a question. "I have to lock the gates to Phantasma do you want to come with me?"
"Yes." I replied hastily, needing something to occupy my mind.
We shuffled out of the concert hall in silence as we walked outside, the cool night air brushed across my skin instantly I wrapped the jacket around me tighter for warmth, pulling my light blond hair from out of my eyes, I shielded it away from the numerous bright lights, the welcome signs, concession stands and the posters promising 'a performance unlike anything you've ever seen' that all the plagued the estate.
It was all a pretence really, from the tourists and outsides point of view Coney Island would seem like a paradise. The rides, the entertainment, the pure thrill that everyone experiences here in some time or another.
But I knew just how dark and dreary Phantasma could really be. How every thing you knew could be gone within a blink of an eye. I snuck a glance at the pier that I was forbidden from going to. Even if my father had not demanded that I never go there I still wouldn't have. Images from that dreadful day still lingered in my memory. The death of my Mother was something I would never forget. I needn't any reminders of it.
I felt my fathers hand on my shoulder, he squeezed it as if knowing what I was thinking of and to remind me that he was still here. I smiled at him glad that he was with me, we had grown closer over the years.
As morbid as it seems my mothers death brought us closer together, I no longer feared him as I did a few years ago, now he was my Father in every way shape and form.
AND SO THATS THE END OF CHAPTER ONE. THERE WILL BE A LOT MORE TO COME. ANY SUGGESTION, IDEAS, FEEDBACK, CRITICISM IS WELCOMED PLEASE REVIEW!
