Five Years later
He watched as the people hurried into the opera to find their seats; some many, he wasn't use to so many people. He opened the secret door and hurried down the pathway; to the back stage. The performers and stagehands were busy getting ready for the performance; running around, bumping into each other.
"You'll get use to the chaos, my boy." His father said, walking up beside him.
"So much noise and so many people. I've never seen the opera house so clean and elegant." He replied, looking at him.
"The opera is open again for business, so the infamous opera ghost has to come back as well. I mean the phantom made the opera house legendary." His father informed, smiling at him, "But I'm not as young as I use to be." His son looked at him in confusion.
"Do you want me to take the position as the opera ghost?" he asked, smiling; Erik nodded.
"You mean it." He asked again. They looked down at the dancers and watched as the curtains opened and the opera began.
"Your mother was supposed to come to this performance." Erik whispered.
"I don't care." He snapped back, crossing his arms in front of him.
"Come, Christopher. Madam Giry was supposed to keep box 5 empty for us." Erik said, patting his shoulder. He walked behind his father up to the boxes; Madam Giry was standing outside of the box, waiting for them.
"Erik, Christopher. " she said, pulling the drape back; Christopher walked in, followed by his father, Erik nodded to the Madam Giry before he pulled the drape closed.
"Great opera, bad performers." Christopher mumbled, laughing softly.
"That's how they usually are, except for the ones your mother performed in." he replied, smiling at him; Christopher lowered his head.
"You can't be mad at her forever." He muttered, patting his knee.
"You are." He replied, looking up at his father.
"That's different, Christopher and you know it." Erik answered, looking down at the stage.
"No it's not." He whispered, just loud enough for the phantom to hear; Erik looked at his son and smiled. He reminded the phantom so much of himself; the boy seemed to be drawn to trouble and mischief, yet he never got caught. As a boy, he could get away with anything.
"I think it's time, the opera ghost made his first appearance." Erik muttered, smiling at his son; Christopher stood up and then left. A few minute later, a scene background, fell, right on top of one of the performers.
"The opera ghost, he's back!" one of the ballets girls shouted, pointing up at the bridges above; she was answered by a deep sinister laugh. Erik let out a laugh that matched his son's; the audience and performers looked up at the box, then back at the stage.
"He is up to his old tricks." One of the mangers said to the other manger. They turned back to the stage, when they heard one of the female singers scream; the phantom had jumped right in front of them. He bowed and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
Erik stood up and left to go back to his underground palace; Christopher was already there, waiting for him.
" Bravo, Christopher," Erik said, clapping his hands, "I don't remember ever being so proud."
"Thank you, Papa." He replied, bowing mockingly.