Erik's POV

I snuggled deep into my pillow, when I opened my eyes to find the sun's light peeking in through my bedroom window. I was exhausted from staying up so late last night, so exhausted that I closed my eyes again, if only for a few minutes. Knowing that I had to rise, I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. When I stood, I leaned over my child and rubbed his shoulder lovingly.

"Gustave, it's time to wake up."

My child groaned and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head.

"Gustave, come on…" I pulled the blankets over his body and pulled him to his feet. My child groaned, but opened his eyes.

"You need to shower, boy." I instructed. "And look your best."

"Mister Y, I don't want to get up."

"We have to." I said. "Now get dressed…You have to look your best today."

My child walked downstairs to dress, while I did the same. After buttoning my shirt and placing on my vest, I adjusted my mask and wig as I came down the stairs. I entered Gustave's room and found him laying in his bed. Oh, this boy was unbelievable.

"Gustave!" I pulled the blankets off his body and sat him up. "Get dressed."

I went through his wardrobe and pulled out a white shirt and tie, bringing it back to his bed and began undressing him. This boy was lifeless as I dressed him, not helping me one bit. When his clothes were on, I helped him to his feet and ran a comb through his dark locks.

"Don't touch your hair." I warned. "You need to look your best."

"You keep saying that, Mister Y." he moaned. "But I don't understand why."

"Looking your best is everything…First impressions are important, son."

"First impressions?"

I nodded, taking him by the hand and leading him out the door. The first school I had in mind was the "Lower Manhattan school for boys." It was a wonderful school for special children…Gustave was smart and sure to fit in. I wouldn't have anything but the best for him…He deserved to go to the best school money could buy.

"What is this place, Mister Y?" Gustave asked as we approached the gate of the school.

"It's where you'll hopefully be attending school in the fall."

"It's too big." The boys eyes widened as we entered the gate. "I don't like it."

"Oh, don't be this way," I insisted. "Give it sometime. You haven't even gone inside the school yet. Come on, I'll come with you."

"I don't want to go inside, Mister Y…"

My child tried to stop, but I pulled him along.

"Don't be frightened, Gustave. You need to do well today, show the administrators that you're a wonderful student."

My son nodded, and followed me inside. The office secretary greeted us and smiled at my son.

"Mister Y, Mr. Yospeh is expecting you."

"Thank you."

I pulled my son along, entering the next office where an older man was sat. He rose from his seat and shook mine and Gustave's hands.

"Mister Y, so nice to meet you. You're a very respected man around Coney Island, I hear…"

"As you know, I run Phantasma."

"Yes," Mr. Yospeh retook his seat and smiled. "My family loves your little park. I've never gone for myself, but my wife often takes our grandchildren."

I nodded.

"And this is your son?"

Once more, I nodded. "Yes, this is Gustave. He's living with me now that his mother passed."

"Yes, the word has gotten out about that young soprano…What was her name? Christine, I believe…"

"Christine Daae…A wonderful woman and devoted mother. Well, she's left me in charge of caring for our only child and now I have to find him a suitable school to attend in the fall."

"Well, I've heard nothing but good things from you, Mister Y. I'm sure this school would be honored to have your son attend. Though in order for me to do so, I would need to evaluate him."

Mr. Yoseph looked at Gustave, who kept his gaze down on his shoes.

"Gustave," I bumped his shoulder. "Don't be shy…Say hello…"

My child looked up. I could tell he was nervous…

Gustave's POV

I didn't want to disappoint Mister Y, and I didn't want to go to this school. Mr. Yoseph was scary to me, even more frightening than Mister Y. He was looking at me now, his wrinkled face staring at me, as if staring into my soul. Usually, I wasn't nervous around people, but I knew that getting into this school meant a lot to Mister Y. Back home in Paris, Raoul enrolled me into a special school much like this one. I hated it there, for I didn't have any friends and was always the butt of every joke. Though, no matter how much I begged him to take me away from that horrible place, he refused, even when my mother suggested it.

"Hello," I murmured, as Mister Y sat me up straight in my chair.

"So, tell me a little about yourself." Mr. Yoseph began.

What was I to say? What was there to say about myself?

"What do you wish to know?" I asked.

Mr. Yoseph sat back in his chair and folded his hands.

"Well, why don't you tell me what you'd like to tell me."

"I'm ten years old…" I nervously answered.

Mr. Yoseph chuckled…Oh, he was making me so nervous.

"What do you like to do?"

"I like to write music." I said. "And play the piano."

"Oh, a musician, are you?"

I nodded.

"He's like myself…" Mister Y interrupted. "A musician."

"Well, this school really doesn't have a musical program. Though, it does offer a large athletic program. We strive to turn our boys not only into rising scholars, but also into possible athletes. Do you play any sports?"

I shook my head. "I don't like them."

Mr. Yoseph's eyes widened. "What do you mean you don't like sports?"

"I'm not very good at them."

"How is your batting?"

"Batting?" I questioned. "What do you mean?"

Silence fell over the room as Mr. Yoseph began to write something down on a paper. I could tell Mister Y was beginning to get anxious, for he cut in before I could say anything else.

"I'm sure Gustave will be just as good in sports as he is in his music. He's a very smart child…"

"And how is your batting, Mister Y?"

"I've never played baseball, sir. I am more about my music than anything."

And then, Mr. Yoseph sent me away.

"Gustave, would you mind stepping outside for a moment? I wish to speak with your father alone."

I looked up at Mister Y, who nodded for me to obey. I stepped outside, but kept my ear against the door as Mr. Yoseph said the words that shattered Mister Y's world.

"Mister Y, I want to be frank with you. I know you're trying to get your son into a nice school, but to be truthful, I don't think this is the school for him."

"And why on earth not?" Mister Y snapped. "Gustave is not a stupid boy. He's smart. He knows how to play three instruments and can speak mutable languages."

"He's book smart, Mister Y. We have a large athletic program and it's pretty clear that your child is no jock. You don't even appear to be a jock either."

"The child can learn."

"We don't teach children to be jocks, Mister Y. It's either in their blood or not at all. If you want my opinion, he'd do better at the Coney Island School for gifted children. Yes, they accept both boys and girls, but you don't have to be a jock to get in, nor do they have to be book smart. Plus, they also offer a substantial music program."

"Oh, you mean the school where the freaks of Coney Island attend!" Mister Y snapped. "Is that what my child is to you? A freak?"

"I didn't say…"

"Of course you did! I know everyone in Coney Island believes me to be a freak because of the mask I wear…My child is no freak…But to you, he is just that because he has the blood of one running through his veins. Oh, but his mother wasn't…She was a wonderful woman, sir! She was beautiful, talented, and wonderful! My child deserves to go to a well known school…He deserves to go here!"

"I'm sorry, Mister Y…Your child is not qualified."

"What does it matter? Do I not have to pay his tuition?"

"Yes, they do, but the children attending must also have the skills needed to attend. Trust me, Mister Y, take him to the Coney Island school I mentioned. He will soar there…"

The screaming and yelling went on for ten more minutes, Mister Y never getting his way. When he emerged, he stormed right past me. I knew he was disappointed with me. I knew Mister Y most likely hated me more than anything in the world. Yes, my mother was in me, but I knew I was nothing like her…I was like Mister Y. I hurried to his side, never saying a word as he and I headed back to Coney Island. Yes, I wanted to speak, but Mister Y didn't say a word as we entered his home. He didn't even look at me as he hurried up the stairs to his room and slammed his door closed.

Tears rushed to my eyes as I wallowed to my room and sat down on my bed. I missed my mother, I wanted her here beside me…As the tears rushed to my eyes, I wiped them away and pulled my pillow close to my body, sobbing into its cotton fabric. I was a failure in Mister Y's eyes…

Erik's POV

How dare that man put down my child! How dare he suggest that he was a freak! Yes, I might have been one, but Gustave was part of Christine as well… Christine was perfect, Christine was beautiful…I plopped down in my desk chair, tossing my wig aside and running my fingers through my scalp. How dare Mr. Yoseph suggest that Gustave attend the Coney Island public school! That school was nothing more than a public school for the children of freaks to attend. No! I refused to let my child attend and feel like a freak day after day.

"Don't feel as though you've failed, Erik."

I knew Christine was beside me, but I didn't want to look at her. Oh, if only Gustave were more athletic, if only he knew how to swim and kick a ball…No, instead he knew music! Why! Why did he have to be just like me?

"Ignoring me will do you no good either, Erik."

"Your son is a failure in the eyes of others." I scowled. "So much, that he supposedly is worthy of the Coney Island Public School for Gifted Children…A freak's dream, for short."

"Erik," I felt Christine's hands caress my shoulders. "When I was married to Raoul, he forced Gustave into one of those private schools for gifted children. Oh, he hated it, mon ange… Gustave made no friends and was always crying to me about how the other children teased him. I tried tooth and nail to get him away from that place, but Raoul forbid it and suggested that Gustave needed to learn how to fight back. Our boy is special, Erik. He can play any instrument and write down any song that appears within his head. He would do well at that school and you know it."

"Schooling is everything, Christine." I said. "If he doesn't get into a well known school he won't go anywhere in life."

"Did I go to a well known school, Erik?"

I shook my head.

"And did you go to a well known school?"

"No," I sighed. "I had to teach myself. I was lucky enough to do that…"

"Exactly…So, what is the difference if our child attends that Coney Island school?"

"Because when he goes for work, they will see that name upon his resume…The school for freaks, Christine."

"Erik, isn't Phantasma Gustave's destiny anyway? You'll be the only one looking at his resume."

"Perhaps I wanted more for him, Christine. Perhaps I want our child to be able to attend the best music school the city has to offer. Perhaps I want him to become a well known musician. He plays just as well as I do. I could have been a well known musician as well, but because of my hideous appearance, I was lowered to running an amusement park. I want more for him, mon ange…"

"But what about what Gustave wants? Have you ever asked him that? Doesn't the child have a choice in life? I know you want the best for him, Erik, but sometimes you must let the child decide for himself."

Christine caressed my cheek and smiled.

"Gustave will be who he wants to be. But until then, he deserves a normal childhood filled with friends and love. He wouldn't have gotten that by attending that private school. Don't be disappointed, Erik…Right now, he feels as though he has disappointed you. He feels as though you hate him for not being able to get into that private school."

I rose to my feet and placed my mask on my desk.

"Go to him, mon ange… Go to Gustave and comfort him."

I took a few breaths to calm me down and headed downstairs. Christine had been right about Gustave. Not only was he laying on his bed, but he was sobbing into his pillow. I knew he felt as though I hated him for not being able to get into that school, but the truth was that I still loved him. Yes, sometimes I wished that he was more like Christine, but I had to face the fact that he was me. I entered his room, and took a seat as his side, placing my hand firmly against his back.

"Gustave, it's all right."

My child turned over and sobbed harder.

"No it's not, you hate me now… You hate me because I couldn't get into that school."

"That's not one percent true, Gustave. You're my son. You don't need that school…It wasn't meant to be."

"But you said that I needed to get into a good school."

Gustave sat up and wiped his eyes. I hated seeing the child cry, for it hurt my heart. I knew that I had been the cause of his tears. I lifted him into my arms and pressed his head against my chest.

"Everything will be all right, Gustave. Don't ever think that I hate you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. When your mother and I were together, she made me the happiest man in the world. And then, when I found out about you, it only made me even happier."

"But what about school?" he whimpered. "What about that?"

"Your mother never went to a special school." I said. "Believe it or not, I never went to a special school either. So, you will attend that Coney Island school instead."

"The Coney Island school?" he questioned.

I nodded. "Yes. Boys and girls of all ages attend. They even have a large music program. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

He slowly nodded as continued wiping his eyes.

"But I never asked you, Gustave…What do you want to do in life? What is your biggest dream? Yes, you may only be ten years old, but surely you already have a plan of some sort about what you want to do in life…"

"Raoul used to say that I needed to go to a special school in order to get smart. He used to say that if I didn't go to a special school, I wouldn't be able to grow up and take his place as Viscount."

"So, you wish to be a Viscount?"

Gustave shook his head. "I never wanted to be a Viscount. I didn't like my schooling because it was too hard. Music was my favorite subject when I was in school, but it wasn't long enough. My music class only lasted a half an hour and my gym class lasted nearly an hour and a half."

"So, you wish to be a musician, do you? I'm sure you will graduate school with all A's and be able to get into any music school you wish. I'm sure in ten years time you could be the conductor of the New York City Orchestra."

My child shook his head. "I don't like crowds, Mister Y."

"Then, you would like to be a famous pianist?" I questioned. "They are well sought for here in New York. The theaters are always looking for them."

Once more, my child shook his head.

"And why not? You play the piano better than I do at times. When I was your age, it was my dream to grow up and play the piano for a living."

"It was?"

I nodded. "But of course, my appearance scares others away. When I came here to Coney Island, I applied to many jobs based around playing the piano, but they took one look at my mask and rejected me."

"Then they lost out on a great pianist."

I smiled and patted my son on the back.

"It's nice of you to say that…"

"But then again, if you would have accepted that job, then the world would have been missing out on a wonderful park. And, if Phantasma was never built, then you would have never met me."

"You're right, Gustave. Now, what is it that you really want to do in life? You said yourself that you didn't want to be a conductor or a pianist…"

"Those jobs would be nice, but the moment I came to Coney Island I knew what I wanted to do…"

"And what's that?"

"I want to run Phantasma."

My heart stopped within my chest…Run Phantasma? No child grows up wanting to do such a thing, but then again, this boy was my child…And what a wonderful child he was.

Sorry for leaving you hanging so long. Enjoy and please review!