Christine pulled her son into her arms, "Gustave, my son, I am so sorry!"

The young man sighed and returned the embrace, "I am sorry too, Mother. Sorry that I have spent my whole life watch you be abused by the men you love." He let go of his mother and walked over to his fiancée, "Rose, I vow to never behave like that to any of our children or to you." He embraced the girl tight but she barely returned it.

"Goose," Rose pulled away taking his hands into hers, "Go talk to your father. I adore your vow, but you are not your father. You have not had your father's life, nor do you have his face." She looked up at Christine, "I remember that opening night of 'Underworld.' How beautiful you were in that dress and yes, how grotesque Mr. Y looked next to you without his mask and wig. But there was also something else about him; his smile, his confidence. He was there to celebrate that he not only written a gorgeous opera, but that he had finally got to share his beautiful voice along side his wife's. And the very people who just moments earlier who had praised him for that, were now insulting him for his face."

Christine sat down beside Rose now fully engaged in her story, "I remember that night vividly too. I remember how followed Gustave out after us, after Erik yelled at everyone. I remember how timid yet kind you were to tell my husband how beautiful his voice was and that was all that mattered. You as a girl did what so many adults would not."

"I know what you yearn for, Goose, and we will have it, I promise," Rose caressed his cheek. "But you cannot keep denying your past and your feelings about it. In that sense you are just like your father." The young lady giggled. "I brought up that night because it showed me just a glimpse of the pain your father still has. And tonight I saw that again."

"Rose you speak all this as if it's easy," Gustave replied.

"With God, all things are. I am going to retire for the evening. You go talk to your father. Good night, Goose. I love you," Rose leaned in and kissed the young man passionately. He returned it as if his mother was not in the room.

Rose broke away and stood, "Christine, I will be upstairs waiting."

After the young lady left, there was an awkward silence. Gustave sighed as he stood, "Good night, Mama. I will talk with you in the morning, but I must address this first. You heard my future wife."

Gustave saw the light coming from the music room. This has always been father's sanctuary, he's not fond of mama entering. What will he think of me after that? He swallowed and knocked before opening the door.

He expected to see his father sitting the desk, pen in hand, slaving away at notes on a page. A new opera! The story of the Parodical Son and his Shepherdess Sweetheart! Instead, he found him curled in a ball of the floor in front of the piano sobbing.

"Papa!" Gustave exclaimed running to him. "Papa, what is the matter?"

"I am what is the matter!" The Phantom cried. "I have failed you, son! To be so cruel to you. To try and make your life about me! To deny you what you want, when all I've ever wanted was to make sure you had what I was denied. I was denied God, I should be glad you found Him!"

"Papa please!" The young man exclaimed. "Papa please stop! This isn't all your fault!"

"Oh but it is!" Erik wrapped his arms around his chest. "You were right. My life has been a lie. You and your siblings have been the only truth I have known and for me…"

"Enough! Enough!" Christine marched into the music room and closed the door behind her. Her blue eyes ablaze. "Erik get off the floor and at least sit in a chair! I am too old to still be dealing with one of your moods and you are way too old to be having one! And to subject our son to one? And worst of all, his fiancée! We have a family, Erik, a life. I have been your wife for thirteen years now. When is it enough? When is it time to say yes the past hurt but look how far I have come and I have all I've ever wanted."

She turned to her oldest, "And you. My baby, my life. I do not know what happened after you left to go to college but I get the impression you're embarrassed by us. That somehow being from a family of artists and performers is now below you. That you somehow took the advice of don't grow up to be your parents to mean we are shameful instead of two damaged people who love and made something out of their pain." Her chest heaved with heavy breath as she started to tremble. "Excuse me, I'm a little lightheaded." Christine sat down on the sofa.

Erik sat up on the floor and took Gustave's hand when the boy extended it to help him up. Both men looked in awe at Christine before turning sheepishly to each other.

"Talk," Christine commanded as she took down her hair.

"About what?" Gustave asked.

"You can start as to this change that happened with you when you went to college. You know your father had a difficult life and has made great changes but your behavior has left him perplexed. Some explanation as to the change might have prevented him from returning to old behaviors."

Gustave took a deep breath, "I was just tired of being seen as a freak. And the noise. Phantasma and our house is always so busy and so loud. The dramatics of your lives, the music always in your mind. I just wanted to escape it! I didn't know how to tell you, Papa without disappointing you. Or you, Mama! My life has been filled with so much turmoil. And yes, love, love from you Mama and you Papa once you re-entered my life." The young man paced back and forth, "But once away at college, I studied psychology…I applied it to myself…"

Tears ran down The Phantom's cheeks once again, "Oh Gustave, my son. I…I…I will always love you. I never had my parents love; I will never deny you that. I will never deny you what you need even if it's not what I want for you." He pulled the boy into a tight embrace. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Oh Papa, yes, yes!" Gustave returned the embrace and both men cried.

Rose rolled over in the bed, awakening from a dream to find she was alone. Where's Christine? I hope she's okay, Erik was awfully mad tonight. The girl turned on her oil lamp, found her dressing gown and slippers securing them, before heading out of the bedroom. She found Gustave's bedroom door closed but the one where Erik was sleeping open and empty. Seeing faint light emitting from under the music room door, Rose lifted her gowns and headed softly down the stairs.

I don't know what Gustave said to them, but maybe I should tell them what he's told me. He just wants a quieter life; he wants to be on the financial side of Phantasma… Soft voices on the other side of the door distracted her thoughts. She pressed her ear to it.

"Erik…Erik…stop…stop…ohh…it's too much…"

"Never! And it's not too much, it's never enough for you, Angel!"

Should I knock? Rose bent down and put her eye to the keyhole. Christine's lilac dress was on the floor in front of the piano; Erik's jacket and waistcoat on top of it. The young woman's eye wandered closer to the couch where it caught sight of a corset and a pair of suspenders. A moan drew her eye's focus to the couch.

"Don't moan, sing for me, Christine!"

Rose gasped and the hand holding the oil lamp trembled. Christine straddled her husband who sat on the couch; his trousers and drawers down around his ankles resting on top of his shoes. She was only in her chemise, stockings and shoes. Christine rose and fell on his lap, exposing his thick erection and the fingers of his one hand rubbing her vigorously. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, kisses placed sweetly on his damaged face between whimpers.

Oh Dead Lord, help me look away! Rose shot a prayer to the skies but remained motionless, her eye now noticing how passionately Erik's other hand wrapped tightly around Christine's waist, aiding her actions.

Oh Dear Lord give me strength. The girl pulled away and stood up straight, back against the door. Her own heart raced; her nipples peaked through her thin nightgown. She used her free hand to pull her dressing gown tighter. She rushed back upstairs, her own breathing now labored for more than one reason.

Before crawling back into bed, Rose got on her knees and said a prayer, "God, forgive me for what I saw. But God also make sure Gustave does not lose his passion in seeking a quite life. I know we are not supposed to lust but can I not desire the same passion I just saw for my own marital bed? I said marital bed, we have asked for forgiveness for previous touching. May that marital bed be soon. May you bless and forgive Erik and Christine, God. You know they are not bad; they are the most kindhearted and passionate people I know. Is it possible to do your work and not know it? I think they do. Amen."