Chapter Two
An Unexpected Guest

Gustave let his fingers skim the dusty organ that sat in what was once his father's home. He didn't want what Erik had once wanted, no not at all, but he wanted to have his father remembered. It wasn't fair that he had lived the life of a monster only to be forgotten so easily. His fingers found his face suddenly as is burnt in pain. How would he face the world with such a face? He found himself stuck in the same mental state his father had once been in.

"Mr. Lefevre, the theatre has to be shut down. The shenanigans have to stop before the public finds out!"
"Keep your voice down Gaston!" Mr. Lefevre spit through his teeth. "The shenanigans are out of my hands."
"We open tonight – an hour! A children's play Mr. Lefevre, we don't need the –"
"Don't speak his name." Mr. Lefevre muttered. Gustave chuckled silently to himself at the fear he had planted in the theatre owners minds.
"Well, we don't need him tonight and we shan't be bothered by his presence. Don't let what happened before happen again." And of course, Gustave knew Gaston was speaking of the greatest tragedy that struck the Paris upper class. The very tragedy his father had caused. Carefully placing his ivory mask over the right side of his face, Gustave freshened up and prepared to make himself known to the schools and children of Paris tonight. Would he frighten them or tease them? Perhaps an optical illusion tonight? The ideas rushed into his head and he began to dream of the possibilities that could take place. All of Paris would know of Gustave – then again, would word reach Raoul? Did he know of the path Gustave was taking? At his age, Gustave didn't want him to know of the life he was living. The Vicomte de Chagny was not so old, but old enough that he was beginning to lose his thick golden hair and charm. He was still very rich and very popular though, it made Gustave sad to know the man he'd assumed to be his father since birth was still out there, hoping Gustave would return. But why did Raoul deserve his sympathy? He had only known love and praise since birth, never feeling the true sting of rejection and insanity throughout his lifetime. Gustave shut his eyes and breathed in heavily, allowing himself to finally get it together and begin to take in what his father had left behind.

Beside the organ, a Viking ship shaped bed with dusty red velvet covers lay behind a half circle of ripped satin curtains. Piles and piles of sheet music lay on a mahogany desk close to the organ. Closer to the lake that guarded this haven laid clay figurines and an array of deteriorating wigs and chipped masks, similar to the one that Gustave was wearing.
"Oh father," Gustave wept. Before he could realize his cover might be blown, he slammed into the organ and in one swift motion dust blew out from the tops and the sound engulfed the entire opera house.
"Who's there!?" A young, trembling voice asked. Gustave sensed fear and so, he used it to his advantage.
Throwing his voice, he murmured, "The theatre ghost."
"You don't scare me," the voice muttered. "You can't be real."
"Perhaps not then." Gustave snickered, wondering who this new voice was. There weren't any new voices since he began to rebuild the Opera House, only Mr. Lefevre and Gaston. He didn't want to scare this one away just yet.
The voice began to weep and Gustave felt an ache inside his chest, "Why must you cry?" He began, stopping himself. He didn't need to ruin the memory of his father and his new found reputation by showing sensitivity to some child.
"Go away." It cried.
"I can't, this is my home." Gustave could feel the voice tremble at the intimidation in his voice.
"Why do you live here? I know you aren't a ghost." She continued. Gustave felt his rage take over as he unleashed a harmless gas to seep up to the floors were the voice stood. As it screamed he heard it apologize. "I've made a mistake. I will leave."
"Not before you tell me your name. You know I live here, and so, you must leave me with at least your name." Gustave asked, keeping his voice low so his the thetre owners would not find him. It breathed in deeply and Gustave could feel its cold hands tremble once more, "Eloise." It whispered before Gustave heard footsteps run in the opposite direction.

Eloise. He hadn't spoken to a girl in what seemed like years. In fact, he hadn't spoken to anyone since his mother died; he had only spoken to his father. He became out casted by even Raoul and all the children at school. He had dropped out of university three years ago when his father died. Had Eloise really wanted to speak to him? Or was it out of fear?
"We go on in half an hour!" Mr. Lefevre shouted, chewing his fingernails.
"Monsieur, we had an incident ten minutes ago." Gaston cried to Mr. Lefevre, "He's in this theatre and he will do something terrible tonight."
"Gaston, you're hallucinating. We have a full house! Lighten up! We've made back any money he's cost us. He built the Opera house back again himself! If you ask me, he's just a man. The theatre ghost barely exists."
Gustave felt his soul shake from anger. How dare they mock him? How dare they think he didn't even exist in this Opera house?
"Monsieur, Eloise Dian filed a report. There is somebody in this Opera house whether you believe it or not. What if he decides to attack tonight?" Gaston muttered.
"Oh no doubt of it!" Mr. Lefevre replied sarcastically, "Besides, she's one of Mademoiselle Jo's students – nothing less than an anxious teenager in search of some French culture. This opera is probably the most exciting thing to happen to any of those students since the beginning of the year."
"But Monsieur-"
"Gaston, I'm finished here." Mr. Lefevre sighed, walking away.
Gustave clenched his fists and looked above, "They'll see what I'm capable of tonight."

Once night fell and the play had begun, Gustave stood silently in box five, alone, mimicking that of what his father would once do. He realized that terrifying hundreds of children in the audience wouldn't do much but get him killed. Then again, he also realized that Mr. Lefevre and Gaston only assumed he was some imposter and the theatre ghost "barely existed". Mostly though, Gaston noticed mademoiselle Eloise Dian in the audience. Immediately her voice stood out to him, her dark curly hair and olive skin, her large green eyes, everything stood out to him, as if he had known her forever. She believed in him. She was his only hope for planting a seed of fear in every mind in the Opera house. Before the play ended, Gustave had disappeared from box five and back into his home. He threw his voice into the main stage and began to laugh maniacally as soon as each and every body in the theatre froze with even the smallest amount of fear.
"Eloise Dian shall return here tomorrow night, or a disaster beyond your imagination shall take place." When Gustave could hear Eloise scream, he laughed once more and sent the gas back into the halls of the Opera house. Eloise nearly tripped down the stairs running out of the theatre with Brigitte at her heels.
"What does he want from me!?" She screamed as soon as she entered the windy streets. Her silk bow flew out of her hair and onto a glimmering lamp post nearby.
"He's not real Eloise. It was part of the show I bet."
"No, Brigitte I've spoken to him before. He knows my name, who else would know my name?" She could feel the tears returning to her eyes again and she began breathing in and out heavily to keep them again.
"Eloise, I beg of you – don't do this to yourself." Brigitte shook her head, "Your mother had been to this theatre before, hadn't she? The owners probably knew your family name. You're a special guest!"
"You said so yourself there was an Opera ghost – isn't this the excitement you wanted?"
"Eloise, this is madness." With those words, Eloise shut her mouth and let her imagination take over. Could he return tonight? Could he throw his voice into her room? Could he kidnap her?
"Come, Mademoiselle has called the carriages." Brigitte dragged Eloise out and left her thinking darkly about her encounter with the theatre ghost.
"Wait!" She called as she mounted the carriage, "My bow's gone - mother gave it to me!" As the horses began to move Eloise looked frantically for the blue bow that held her hair together earlier.
"Come back tomorrow, I have your bow." A voice called, and just as Eloise had feared, it belonged to Gustave.