Erik hurried after Mahtab in fright when he heard her accusation towards Christine. It rang in his ear painfully as a cry for help. "You don't love me!" He suddenly saw a similar scene in front of his eyes, when a mask was thrown at him, and he started sobbing the same sentence, and he heard Mother's angry response "How could I love such an ugly monster?" He got scared of the girl's desperate thought. He had to do something before history repeats itself!

Christine found Mahtab earlier though, as Erik was searching for her in each room possible, but Mahtab wasn't in the house any more. She sat in the backyard next to Shadow's grave, and looked at the sky with tearful eyes. She felt extremely guilty and sorry about her outrage caused by her daughter's sarcastic remark, and approached her crying.

- Mahtab… I am sorry. – She whispered as she knelt down next to the teen, who looked at her still with a lot of pain in her eyes.

- You don't love me. – She repeated, now with a cooler, but bitterer tone than before, and it felt like a stab in the mother's heart.

- But of course I do love you…. – Christine hugged Mahtab to herself. – I love you.

- No, you don't love me. – She shook her head sadly. – You love the girl I should have become.

- No! – Christine gasped.

- I am ugly and I act like a boy. You want a girl you could pamper and dress like a princess. A girl who obeys and doesn't want to ride a horse in male style. That is why you never let me have a pony.

- Oh, Mahtab… it is just not right… you are not a boy…

- I feel like I am, from a very young age, Mama. I feel like I am trapped in the wrong body. I hate when you wish to dress me as a girl, and you wanted me to have long hair. But I am a boy, and it is not just a phase as you think it, and I am not going to grow it out. And as you don't like this fact, I know you don't love me. As, Mama, this craziness is my personality. I am honest with you now, I confessed my feelings. I know you don't approve, but Papa always supported me with it. Don't worry. I am not going to cause trouble and shame to you. If someone asks, I am not your child. So you have no shame because of my face and boyish unacceptable behavior. I am just as strange as Papa, I am his.

- God… - Christine sobbed and hugged Mahtab's head to her shoulder and stroke her ear. – But my dear, I am proud to be your mother! You are my child, and I am openly and proudly telling anyone about you! I don't care what people say… I am sorry I made you feel this way my darling… I thought it was only because of Papa told you that… you should be a boy…

- He did not say such a thing. On the contrary. He told me a boy's life is always more difficult and told me I make a decision for myself. He yet listed me all pros and cons of being a boy and a girl both sides when I was seven years old or so. He told me I had time to decide as it is a very important matter, but until I decide, I should just enjoy myself. But I have made up my mind Mama- I wish to be a male.

- I understand now. – Christine nodded. – So it is, I guess is just the way God had created you, sweetie. And there is nothing wrong with it. – She patted her head reassuringly.

- So you don't think I am crazy?

- No, dear. I am sorry for saying such a thing. I got upset… I did not mean it.

- I am not angry Mama. I know it is hard to accept such a thing. I appreciate you are willing to. I was afraid for some minutes that you are not tolerating me.

- Oh dear… do as you please, I will always love you. – Christine smiled at her honestly.

Erik got to the backyard, wheezing, finally finding Christine and Mahtab, but was relieved to see Christine kissing Mahtab's forehead with love. He stopped and dried up his sweaty forehead with his handkerchief and slower, a lot slower, he walked to the bench in front of the fountain. He sat down and leaned back, relaxing. Oh, stress wasn't good for him anymore, maybe because he had suffered so much of it in his earlier life. He got so worn out after the smallest stress and in these moments he felt weak and tired. With a deep sigh, he stretched his long legs out and looked at the water to calm himself.

- Are you feeling ill, Papa? – It was Mahtab, looking at him a bit worriedly.

- No, no my dear. – Erik smiled. – I am just a bit of tired.

- A life like yours makes you tired easily. – She stated understandingly.

Erik looked at Mahtab with surprise. He knew she was emotionally mature than her age, but she could always surprise him with being so wise. Christine also was stunned by the maturity with Mahtab explained her feelings to her. She did not expect such a child to be able to word her thoughts like an adult, but she certainly did so. Maybe it was finally time to handle her as a grown up person? Erik always stated he turned out to be a man at the age of 12 when he started to live on his own and support himself from his own work. Christine found it an exaggeration, but she had to admit that a boy who takes care of himself, can be called a man, and sure, Mahtab was more independent and mature than a child in her age.

Even though Mahtab was taking care of Belle for most of the time, Erik took care of her still, and so did Christine, of course. Erik liked to take the child out for walks on the street in a pram, and he was happily whistling or humming to her while they walked on the streets of Paris. Once he was deeply buried in his music, or, to be honest, would be buried if the child would have let him think. She was babbling and crying too much, so Erik eventually got fed up with it and put a pacifier in her mouth to silence her for some time. She happily accepted and started sucking on it, which resulted in her falling asleep not much time after. Erik was walking contentedly in the park, thinking of his new musical ideas, totally getting lost in his thoughts. Some time later he felt his knee started bothering him, so he needed to sit down on a bench for some minutes, stopping the pram next to the bench. He was composing in his mind, and closed his eyes, imagining the new composition being played by a full orchestra. With a relieved sigh, he soon stood up from the bench and walked along the streets contentedly. He needed to get home to write the piece down as soon as possible.

He cheerfully stepped in his home, whistling, and headed to the study, nearly jumping in happiness. He at least found the correct, the One True melody, which he instantly had to write and orchestrate. Oh he loved composing, but the paperwork is so much with it, it shall take long hours to finally finish, but the result will absolutely worth it. It will be his Magnum Opus. Why did he have to get so old to finally write it?

- Erik! – He heard Christine's voice behind his back, but shamefully he had to admit that in his state of mind he did not care. He pretended he heard nothing and walked to the study. – Erik! – She repeated a bit louder, but as he did not show any reaction still, she creamed from the top of her operatic lungs: - ERIK!

- Yes, my love? – Erik finally turned around to face his wife. – Screaming damages your vocal chords, my angel. – He added on a scolding tone.

- Erik, I don't care about my vocal chords! Where is the child? – She jumped in front of him in shock.

- Child? – Erik scratched his head.

- Yes, Belle! – Christine yelled.

- Belle…? Oh… Why, was she with… oh…

Suddenly Erik remembered back about he did not leave the house alone, but with the baby. He had older children for a time, and he got unused of having to take care of a baby in these past years. He could get lost in his thoughts while the kids still followed him, and even took his hand while crossing the roads. He did not always have to pay attention before Belle's birth. Those three were already on their own, independently. But having a small baby is another thing. Belle was sure left in the park.

- Erik, you LOST her? – Christine gasped.

- Kind of. – Erik murmured softly. – But don't worry I go to get her.

- You are such a careless stupid thing! – Christine spat out angrily. – You could just as easily kill them! God, why do I let them around you? My poor children!

- Christine, stop… - He sighed.

- You LOST my child, do you get this at all? – She turned red from fury. – You are dangerous! You are the WORST father ever, endangering my children!

- Wow – wow! – Erik turned back from the door with a sudden rage: - If I am that bad of a father, why do you let me stay at home to take care of them all?

- Go and get Belle already! – Christine shook her fist at him.

- As if it weren't you who took out Mahtab to be beaten as a toddler out of sheer stupidity! As if it weren't you who lost her on the station and let her climb on a fucking train! – Erik clearly lost his patience.

- Don't dare to use this tone with me!

- All right, I am going to talk to you in fucking F major from now on! – He groaned then walked out of the house, slamming the door behind himself.

He felt Christine was unjustly accusing him. Yes, he left Belle in the park, and made a mistake. It was a bad and a careless thing to do, for sure, but shall she be the one accusing him, when he, despite of his temper and past, never hurt any of his children on purpose? He could count the occasions in one hand for all three of the children being spanked, and it was always well – deserved. And he never let them get into dangerous situations before. Yet Christine did it more times already! And he never called her a terrible mother for it!

Arriving back to the park, he was rather tired. He wasn't used to so much walking any more. He had to admit he turned rather comfortable old man. Back in the Opera he walked up and down thousands of stairs, and rowed a boat across the lake and he did not get tired. Now though he was too much used to going by car and so long walks made him worn out. Getting nearer to the bench he left the pram at, he could hear people talking, and soon he noticed a smaller group.

God… there was a problem.

He noticed the pram in the middle of the crowd, made up from maybe 15-20 people, who were whining about the poor abandoned baby.

- What kind of a person leaves this cute little baby alone…? – An older lady squeaked on a tone that would make canaries move to the New Hebrides, even if they did not know where the Old ones were.

- Poor, poor little dear. – A younger woman leaned above Belle to see if she was all right.

- This is unbelievable. – A taller man snorted. – Someone just leaves the poor child in the middle of the park, as if she was a dog!

- I would never ever leave my dog here alone! – The old mummy stated as if she was actually asked. She was holding a lap dog under her arm and quickly kissed it to prove her words as if it was needed.

- Should we call the police? – A shorter man with a pointy mustache jumped around nervously. He was the fidgety know-it- all type of man, who did not have a single word at home, that is why he wanted to act in public. Erik knew this type well.

- Hubert, shut your face! – A powerful alto voice rang through the crowd, produced by a largely overweight woman, who rolled nest to the fidgety small nerve wreck. Great, here is the wife as well. – But exactly, we shall call the police! – She added.

Erik approached the people with a deep sigh. Oh, just what he wanted: to confront so many people.

- Pardon. – He stepped closer to the pram and addressed the two women blocking his way. – Do make way, please.

He tried to be the politest possible, while they stared at him.

- Is this your child? – The old woman screamed when he touched the pram's handle to push it.

- Yes, Madame. – He nodded.

- I am yet a maiden! – She spat out an offended gasp.

- Oh, pardon. – Erik sighed.

"I couldn't know, next time write it on your forehead." He thought while trying to turn.

- Are you really her father? – The know- it all jumped in front of the pram. – Or do you just try to get her?

- You may chose if I leave next to or through you, Monsieur. – Erik threw his voice in the man's left ear, who gasped and jumped out of the way.

- Unbelievable… ungrateful… he did not even say thank you… what a man… - The nobleman stuttered as Erik was getting further from them.

- Monster! You don't deserve kids! – The old maiden who did not find a fool to marry her sent this outrage after Erik.

- Maybe he is her grandfather. – The young woman said. – And maybe he is a pantaloons, so he just forgot her here.

They burst out in a nasty laughter after this, laughing at him for much time. He could hear them even at the edge of the park. Just what he wished: being called a demented monster. What he really was.

- Are you mad at me too? – Erik asked Belle with a sad sigh.

The baby just giggled at him and seemed to be happy to be with him again.

- At least you are not then. Good. – He stroke her face with a depressed look in his eyes.

He wasn't yet called a monster when he wore his good – looking human mask. People did not call him ugly or unworthy of anything when he shielded himself with that rubber fake face that made him look like anyone else. He could just be a John Doe who wasn't spotted easily in a crowd like before. He was getting used to being a normal human, and this confrontation just shattered his illusion he was building in the last 17 years since he was married to Christine and tried to lead a normal life. He was still a monster if he deserved that name. A monster buried down under a masterfully crafted disguise.

As he arrived home, and just rolled the pram to Christine to do whatever she wanted with the child, they did not say a single word to each other. Christine was still angry with Erik, and Erik was extremely hurt by her and the crowd's words, so he did not wish to start another fight. He just dragged himself in his study, but the magical music already disappeared from his head.

He closed the study's door with a deep sigh, when he noticed he wasn't alone in there.

Noel sat in his armchair that faced the desk. He recognized the boy's arm as he reached out to the half full wine bottle on his desk. What the Hell…? He wanted to just pay attention to what was happening for a time, so he did not say a word. Noel grabbed the glass as well and poured a glassful of Tokai for himself.

What a little brat! Erik really started to lose his mind with fury and the first thought of his was that he grabs the boy and spanks him the hardest he ever did for that. Does he drink for a long time, the little devil? He is only 8 years old, for God's sake! What comes next? Cigar? Morphine? He wanted to slap him so hard for that so the wall should give the other. But… he suddenly had a better idea.

- What are you up to, son? – He approached Noel casually. He tried his best to control his temper.

- Just doing manly things. – Noel pulled himself out, like a nobleman.

- As?

- Drinking wine.

- Oh, really? Aren't you too young for that, son?

- No. I am a grown up man. – He smiled proudly.

- Hm. – Erik scratched his head. – If it is so, why do you drink wine? That is not for grown up men.

- Why, you drink that too. – Noel took a sip of it, and frowned a bit, but swallowed anyway.

- Do you drink wine for long time?

- No. – He shook his blonde well-groomed small head. - It's my first time.

- Oh, really? – He asked. – Well, then we shall celebrate you turning to be a man with something stronger.

- Stronger? – Noel's eyes lit up with a sudden interest.

- Yes. Real man drink vodka. – Erik stated. – If you can drink it, you are a man. If not… then you are just a boy and I shall never ever see you around my things, right?

- Right. – He nodded.

Erik opened the secret closet in his cabinet to get the bottle of vodka he stored there. He rarely drank, but sometimes it felt good to drink something stronger than wine. He poured a shot for both Noel and himself.

- Here you go. Cheers. – He clinked glasses with Noel, then drank his portion.

- Cheers. – Noel grinned and imitated his father, drinking the shot like his father, but he had to realize it was burning his throat. It was horrible. He nearly spat it out, but his stubbornness was stronger, so he swallowed it with a bit of struggle.

- What's the matter? – Erik inquired casually, while pouring another glass of vodka for himself.

- Nothing. – Noel mumbled. He felt like his tongue wasn't capable of feeling anything anymore.

- Then do you wish to have another round? – Erik asked.

- N… n… yes. – He nodded.

- Well, then here you go. – Erik poured another for Noel too. – Drink to the lees. Cheers.

This second shot was really hard to drink. Harder than the first one. It burned his mouth, his throat, even his nose. He was breathing heavily.

- Another one? – Erik offered.

- No… no… - Noel shook his head. He really did not want another.

- Sure…? – Erik asked.

- Sure. – Noel sighed. – Do you have something that … reduces this burning sensation?

- Oh, you are not used to vodka, my silly head. – Erik smiled evilly. – I suggest you not to drink water now, it will hurt.

- Then what…? Maybe cigar… Papa?

Cigar… here we are, it is stated. Well, you shall have another lesson my dear.

- Cigar?

- Yes… you have it… after alcohol… you said it feels good.

- It does, sure. – Erik opened his cigar box to prepare one for Noel, then lit it and gave it to him. – Well, here you go. Be a true man.

Noel was proud for a time that his father allowed him to have the forbidden things. But… after a time they did not feel that good as he expected them to. The vodka was absolutely horrible, and the cigar smoke was making his eyes fill up with tears. He coughed for some moments, the already drank vodka and smoke were irritating his throat. His head spun and he slowly felt his stomach turn. With his last strength he rushed to the bathroom to get rid of everything.

- Well, son. – Erik shook his bony index finger threateningly at the pale boy emerging from the bathroom, wiping his mouth with disgust. – If I catch you meddling with my wine or cigar one more time before your 21st Birthday, I make you drink a whole bottle of vodka and smoke the entire box of cigars at once! You will bathe in your own vomit and learn what not to touch. Understood?

- Yes, Papa. – The boy whispered, feeling rather sick still.

- Go to your room and think. – Erik groaned. – No dinner for you today.

Well, to be honest the child did not even wish to have dinner with his stomach…

- What was that…? – Christine asked with a shock, seeing the scene.

- Not your business. – Erik waved in the air. – Manly issues.

- You are terrorizing my boy! – She grabbed his arm as he wanted to leave.

- Better if he hates vodka than if he adores it.

- Is that a normal way of punishment to you? – Christine faced him and looked deeply in his eyes.

- Why? Should Erik have rather spanked him by a belt? – Erik hissed.

- No! But if you talk to him about it…

- He will laugh in my face. – Erik finished the sentence. – Like this, he at least learned a lesson.

- You are a monster!

- I know, I am a terrible father, and I should not have ever been born! – He pushed Christine's hands off of his shoulder. – I have heard it, I have enough of this aria for today.

- You are unable to admit you have made a mistake!

- Yes I have! – Erik yelled. – I have made a huge mistake by fathering kids! I told you Erik won't be a good father! I told you!

- Erik, if you really think like this…

- I do! I never wanted any of them! Never!

- You don't have to live with us if we are such a burden to you! – She retorted. – But I stay with my children!

- All right! – Erik screamed in fury. – I am leaving and… and… and…

- Erik, don't dare to! – She gasped. – Would you really leave us?

- You don't want me around. – Erik stated bitterly. – I did not make this choice. – He wheezed when he grabbed his coat and put it on.

He ran out of the door and slammed it behind himself. Christine was staring at the door and realized how huge mistake she just made. The whole day was a mess and she told him things she should have never said. She opened the door and cried out desperately:

- Erik… Erik come back… Erik please…! Erik!