"Welcome one and welcome all to the seasonal grand opening of Phantasma!" Erik stood on the makeshift stage at the side of the Grand Entry Gates. His usual dramatic gestures were limited as he held Charlotte, in her green dress special for opening day, in his arms.
"Tell them about the carousel, Dada!"
"Charlotte," he whispered.
"The carousel!" The girl exclaimed. "The zebra is my favorite!"
Chuckles came from the audience as flash paper went off.
Mr. Y grimaced, "Yes, yes as you all heard my daughter say, we still have the carousel from last year. And while it is new to her, I am really here to announce our new theatre season! New songs and dance numbers by Phantasma's ever popular Ooo La La Girls! Come amaze and not believe your eyes at the new The Belle of Ballroom Automatons! And now what everyone has been anxious for and what I have personally have longed to bring to Phantasma's theatre: our first full opera! And not just any opera a completely new, original production!"
Gustave pulled down the curtain revealing a poster: Underworld Starring Christine Daae as Persephone.
There was clapping and more sounds of flash paper from the audience.
"Of course, this would not be possible without visitors, regular patrons and new donors who are in the crowd; but Phantasma, my family and I want to give a special thank you to Mr. Branwell Jones and his wife Daisy who is a good friend to mine. The torrid details of Madame Daae's relationships are well known but what wasn't is she did not have a single friend once she was in this country. Mrs. Jones befriended my wife despite it all and…" Mr. Y trailed off.
"Dada?" Charlotte patted his chin.
"And she and her husband also believed in her art and my art. They are Phantasma's Theatre's largest donors and the producers of 'Underworld.' Please step up!" Erik gestured to the couple who stood behind him next to Christine.
"Do it please, he is never like this," Christine whispered in Daisy's ear.
Daisy grabbed her husband's hand and then walked up to Mr. Y. The couple waved to the crowd before backing away.
"And now without further ado; welcome to Phantasma!"
Sparks flew from behind the gates followed by a puff a smoke as the gate rose up. While patrons moved to go beyond the gates; the reporters lingered at the stage.
"Mr. Y, is it true you wrote the opera?"
"Mr. Y why the sudden public appearances with your children? That's not the markings of a business man."
"Mr. Jones, do you really believe a carnival theatre can put on quality opera? Aren't you worried you're wasting your money?"
"Madame Daae, did you not just have another child three months ago? Are you ready to return to the stage?
"If you'll excuse us, I promised my daughter she would be the first to ride the carousel."
As the carousel came to a stop, Charlotte wrapped her arms around the zebra's neck. "Again, Dada! Again!" Mr. Y stood beside the zebra and sighed, "Charlotte, it's been three times."
"Again!"
"How about we sit together in the swan?"
"No! I ride the zebra!"
Christine, from the bench, saw the frustration and surrender on her husband's face and laughed.
Daisy sitting beside her, finished chewing on her piece of salt water taffy before turning to her friend, "Just what is so amusing?"
"My husband. I see how Charlotte has convinced him to ride the carousel for a fourth time. I tell him constantly he spoils her; that he's going to turn her into an impossible young woman."
"Well maybe she'll follow your career path and then she will have the perfect platform to be a diva."
Christine adjusted her hat, for the sun was bright, "I know you are being kind, Daisy but she's never performing with her deformities."
"You own your own stage, put her on it. And look how far, Erik has come: when he opened this park nobody knew who did, then it was a mysterious Mr. Y and now he's out here opening day greeting everyone with his daughter in his arms."
Christine smiled as she caught a glimpse of the green dress on the zebra and the black suit beside it as they went around, "If you only knew just how far."
Their conversation was interrupted by Daisy's daughter Sara, running up. Gustave walking up with Daisy's oldest daughter Rose behind them. All of them had ice cream cones but Rose also carried a small bouquet of flowers.
"Mama, Rose kissed Gustave! Rose kissed Gustave!"
"No, I didn't!" The older sister's cheeks told a different story.
"I got you free ice cream, Sara!" Gustave exclaimed.
The mothers gave each other a knowing look.
That evening as Charlotte lay asleep in Christine's dressing room, she accompanied her husband as he gave The Jones an exclusive tour of backstage of the theatre.
"This right here is my favorite set piece for the opera; the flowers and trees melting into fire of the underworld," Mr. Y gestured to the arch securely tucked into place.
"When do we get to sit in on a rehearsal?" Branwell Jones asked. "When I heard you were with child again, Mrs. Y I must admit I was a little concerned. You calling on my wife after delivery was some relief but I truly cannot wait to hear that angelic voice again."
Christine smiled at the man, "You, sir have an open invitation from here on out."
Erik turned at looked at his wife. The Diva met his eyes and nodded.
"Rose Marie Jones!" Daisy's voice echoed from the wings.
All eyes turned to behind the curtain wings where there was not only an automaton but Rose and Gustave in an embrace, their lips pressed firmly against each other.
"Gustave!" Christine exclaimed.
The two young teenagers pulled away from each other and gasped.
The Soprano stormed up to her son and pulled him away by the arm.
"I was showing her my automatons," Gustave said breathless.
"I told you they kissed!" Sara exclaimed.
"Go get your sister and go home right now!" Christine snapped pushing her son down the corridor towards the dressing rooms.
Once the boy was out of sight, Mr. Y finally spoke up. "May I apologize for our son's behavior. He has never acted like this before and I refuse to have him bring shame upon you or your daughter."
"He's not!" Rose exclaimed. "Gustave is a sweet boy! I wanted to kiss him! Please don't be mad." The girl ran to her mother and embraced her.
"I believe we shall head home," Branwell Jones firmly stated. "Thank you for such a lovely day, Erik and Christine. We are not going to let this ruin it."
Christine stood outside her son's door, listening intently to the conversation between father and son. She didn't exactly trust Erik to handle this.
"She is the daughter of our biggest donor! Do you want to see the theatre lose funding? All because of the whim of your heart?"
"She kissed me, Papa!" Gustave crossed his arms. "But I will kiss her again the moment I see her! Why can I not be sweet on a girl?"
Christine tightened her dressing robe and pushed the door open, "You can be sweet on a girl, Gustave but there is a proper way. You have to understand your father and I did not do anything properly. We do not want you to suffer like we did."
"But you hated stuffy society, mother!" Gustave walked the opposite direction of his parents. "I see how much more vibrate you are here than you were in Paris married to Mr. de Chagny."
"There is a difference between stuffy society and doing what is right as to not suffer," Christine followed him and placed them on his shoulders. "If you truly are sweet on Rose, you will do this right."
Gustave let out a deep breath and then turned around, "What do I need to do, Mama?"
Christine smiled as she pushed his hair out of his eyes, "That's my sweet boy. So tomorrow, you and I are going to go to the Jones and apologize. We will then offer to have a chaperon available to be with you and Rose when she visits Phantasma. Now go to sleep." She kissed his forehead. "Come on, Erik." She extended her hand to her husband.
Once they were in their master bedroom, The Opera Ghost turned to his wife, "What was that?"
"Taking care of our son," Christine pulled the covers back on the bed before looking into bassinette for one last check on Matilda. "I love you, Angel but I knew this was beyond your knowledge."
"What are you saying, Christine? That I do not know how to properly court a lady? That I could not give my son advice?"
"What were you going to tell him? You cannot be upfront with your emotions. You must first hide behind a façade because you cannot trust people. That the artists don't mingle with the patrons," She removed her dressing robe and got into bed.
"I do not appreciate it when you mock our past," Erik sat his wig and mask down on his night stand before changing into his nightshirt.
"And why not? It only aides in reminding me in how far you have come, how far we have come. Speaking of which, you were remarkable today, Angel."
"I do not consider riding the carousel seven times with our daughter then watching her eat and vomit up cotton candy remarkable, but if you insist," He crawled under the covers.
Christine laughed, "No, I meant with the opening day speech and the backstage tour you gave the Jones. I never thought I could have such a life, especially with my Angel of Music." She leaned over and kissed him, "Good night."
Erik turned off the lamp on his nightstand before pulling Christine into his arms, "Good night, Angel."