Erik's POV

"So, Christine…" I was walking beside my angel was we headed into Phantasma. The park would be opening within an hour or so and I wanted to give my family a tour before the wonders and attractions were mobbed with crowds. At the moment we were headed towards my maze of mirrors; a fun house lined with different illusions and mirrors that could change your appearance into many different shapes and sizes. It was one of my most popular attractions, one that immediately interested Gustave.

"Oh, please say we can go inside!" he gasped, turning to face Christine and I. "Please say we can go in."

I looked at Christine, happy to see that she gave him a nod. My child ran inside, as Christine warned him to stay close by.

"I won't go far." He called. Afterwards, he simply disappeared leaving my angel and I alone. This seemed like the perfect chance to ask her to dinner. We were passing one of my favorite mirrors, when Christine stopped and gazed into it. Her face was distorted, covered in scars and hideous flesh much like my own. Even though it was only an illusion, if my Christine truly looked like she did now, I would still love her. I believed beauty to be found in the soul, not in the physical appearance.

"I'm so hideous." She lifted her fingers to her flawless face, staring into the mirror and touching her non-existing scars. "What sort of illusion is this?"

"My favorite." I said. "I made this one especially for the freaks who live on the island."

"And how would that make them feel better?"

I stood behind Christine, my hands placed upon her shoulders. When I stared into the mirror, my mask and flawless half of face were now covered in scars as well. To have the illusion take effect, I peeled away my mask. Christine's eyes widened the moment she saw how handsome I looked. This very mirror was created to give my freaks and every freak a sense of hope. They had to walk around day after day with sometimes crippling afflictions. Though, when one stands in front of this very mirror, all their afflictions simply vanished, leaving them handsome and beautiful. Around Coney Island, this very mirror was known as "The mirror of hope." I couldn't stand to be in front of it for more than a few seconds, for if I stayed any longer, I would forget about what reality truly was.

"Erik, you…you look so handsome."

Her fingers touched the glass as if tracing over my flawless features. My hair was dark and covering my entire scalp, unlike the gray, sparse locks that dangled unevenly from my head. My nose was full and adorable; much like the one Gustave was born with. Even my cheeks were beautiful… This is what I would have looked like if not for my deformity.

"Don't stare at it too long, Christine." I warned. "You'll forget what is truly real."

Even I didn't want to place my mask back over my face, but I couldn't stand looking at such a lie anymore. I wasn't handsome like I was in the mirror, I was a monster. I quickly slipped the mask back over my face, causing my appearance to change back to being hideous once more.

"I don't get it…"

"I made the mirror so that handsome people would turn ugly and freaks would turn beautiful. It's a deadly mirror, Christine. If someone like me stares into it for too long, it will brainwash you. You will forget what you truly are…"

"You're not ugly, Erik."

"Mirrors can kill people, Christine. Freaks come from all around just to stare in front of that very mirror. I've seen more than a few destroy themselves over what they see when they look into its glass. Sometimes, if I stare into it for too long, I, myself wind up wanting to end it all."

"And why is that?"

"Because," I cried. "It's every freak's hope and dream. Only, when they turn away from such a mirror, they are faced with reality…and oh, it's ugly."

It was then, that Christine interlaced her hand with my own.

"You're perfect just the way you are, Erik."

Oh, how happy that made me! My angel thought I was perfect! I was anything but perfect, but if Christine said so, then for today, I would believe her. I loved this woman with all that I was, and tonight, I would confess it once more, confess to her how much I loved her and then, perhaps life could go on once more.

Christine's POV

"….So, Christine."

After Erik had walked us around Phantasma, we ended up in town. Somehow, he had convinced me that Gustave and I should get a few more pairs of clothes. It was getting colder out, and sadly, all of my winter clothes and cloaks were back home in Paris. Erik had reminded me again and again as we entered the clothing store that I was to get anything that I wanted. After finding a few pretty dresses hanging on the racks, I had taken them back to the dressing room to try them on. I nearly had the first one on, when I heard Erik's voice from outside my dressing room door.

"…So, Christine," he began. "I've been thinking…"

I half smiled as I opened my door to see him standing there with his hands folded gracefully behind his back. When he seen the red dress I was wearing, his eyes went wide in astonishment. It was obvious that he liked the dress I was wearing. I knew Erik like the back of my hand, and certain stares and glances that he gave me were enough to tell his answer even when I didn't even ask him a question.

"What have you been thinking?"

He stood up straight, looking down at me with his usual nervous expression that I was so used to seeing back in Paris. It had been ten years, and yet, I still recognized it. Had my dress really stunned him?

"Um…Well, you see, I was wondering if perhaps you would join me tonight for dinner?"

"Dinner?" I questioned. "What kind of dinner?"

"Dinner." He firmly stated. "Just dinner, Christine."

"So, you mean Gustave and I?"

"Um, er…no, actually, Gustave offered to stay behind tonight. I thought perhaps you and I could spend a quiet evening with one another? To catch up on old times, that is…If not, I could completely understand."

My angel was always so quick to believe that I would deny him. I had been here an entire two weeks, and yet, he and I haven't spent a moment alone to talk or catch up.

"I accept your offer, Erik." I said. "I will be ready tonight at eight, if that would suffice?"

"Yes," it seemed as though the world was lifted from off of his shoulders the moment I agreed. "Yes, eight sounds perfect. I was actually going to do some work at my warehouse today. I will come and get you around eight then."

"You never told me what you thought about this dress."

Erik eyed me up and down, before nodding.

"Stunning, Christine, absolutely stunning."

And when I went back inside my dressing room to change, I could only smile. Ten years, it had been ten whole years since Erik and I had been alone, and I couldn't wait to have that time together once again.

Erik's POV

"…Mister Y, what are you doing?"

After purchasing clothes for Christine and my son, I had traveled off to my workshop to prepare myself for tonight. The first thing I decided to do was cut the thorns off of some red roses I would give to Christine this evening when I met her. For some odd reason, Gustave had followed me to my workshop. Why he wanted to be around me was beyond my imagination, but having my son around was somewhat pleasant. Though, at the moment, he was pestering me about why I was cutting the thorns off roses.

"These are for your mother." I said. "I wouldn't want her to prick her beautiful fingers, now would I?"

"They're beautiful, Mister Y."

"Indeed, just like your mother."

"I take it that she accepted your offer then?"

I nodded. "Yes. She and I will be going to dinner tonight around eight."

"Where are you taking her?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm not sure, Gustave. There are a lot of places I could take her. I don't want it to be over the top though…Someplace that's a bit romantic but still holds up the friendship atmosphere."

"I don't think mother really cares about the atmosphere of a place, Mister Y." Gustave stated. "She cares more about the quality and taste of the food."

"And how is it that you know this?"

"Papa…I mean, Raoul…"

"It's all right, Gustave." I said, looking over my shoulder. "You have a right to call him that. He's been the only father you've known."

"But I know the truth now." Gustave said. "It doesn't matter. Anyway, Raoul used to take my mother to expensive places back in Paris that were all about class. She often told me how much she loathed it because the food wasn't any good. She'd take a small café over an elaborate restaurant any day."

I stood up and lifted my son up onto my shoulders.

"I know just the place then."

"Mister Y," my son giggled. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

I exited my warehouse, carrying my son all the way to one of my many restaurants. It was a large place, but it wasn't elaborate or overdone. No, this would be the perfect place to take my angel for dinner.

"The Phantasma Gourmet?" Gustave questioned.

"Yes, it's got the best food in my entire park."

I lifted him off of my shoulders and placed him down, walking hand in hand with him into my restaurant. Once inside, my many waiters and cooks greeted me as I headed towards the kitchen. Once there, the manager Monsieur Olivander came to my aid. He was a short, middle aged Italian man. He and his wife had moved here from Europe, applying for a job as manager of this very restaurant. He might have had a strong accent, but he knew everything there was to know about food and its quality.

"Ah, Mister Y," he began, smiling upon me. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm going to be having a meal here tonight with a very special friend." I said. "I need my table set and ready for eight."

"Of course. You've never eaten a meal here for yourself. This must be a very special friend of yours."

"The best." I said. "Which is why I need the table to be set with everything to my specifications."

"Anything in particular?"

"Yes, a bottle of Phantasma's best red wine, on ice before we arrive. Fresh bread on the table as well…"

"Wow, look at all those pastries!"

"Get that boy out of here!" I peeked over my shoulder to find my son standing at the rotating desert cart that was in the middle of the resturaunt. Monsieur Olivader was motioning one of his cooks to grab him, but I stepped in.

"Leave the boy alone!" I growled. "He's with me!"

Everything came to a standstill, and I hurried to Gustave's side, with Monsieur Olivander following me.

"Forgive me, sir." Monsieur Olivander began. "I didn't know."

I didn't want anyone really knowing about how I had a son, but if Christine were going to be staying with me for a while, it was best to introduce him. He was, after all, Phantasma's future owner. My employees should start getting used to him sooner than later, for he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"You should be apologizing." I scoffed. "This is Gustave, my son."

The room fell silent; all of my employees looking at me as if they couldn't believe a woman would actually go to bed with me. Oh, to hell with them.

"Well, Gustave," I began. "Aren't you going to say hello?"

"Hello…" my son gulped.

"Good, now that we're all introduced, let us get on with our arrangements for tonight. Then, perhaps afterwards, we can give my son a tour around the kitchen."

Oh, how Gustave's face lit up with excitement the moment I said the words. After arranging my table for the evening, Gustave and I followed Monsieur Olivander into the kitchen where he toured us around. The cooks were already preparing meals for the night, my son getting to stir soups and work the stove. Only the best for my son! He deserved everything I could give him. It meant the world to me to see him smile within my presence.

"This is really really good."

I was sitting at a table watching Gustave eat a piece of chocolate cake that he had asked for from the dessert cart.

"Best piece of cake you've probably ever eaten, huh?" I questioned.

He nodded, the chocolate icing staining his lips.

"Oh, don't make a mess of yourself." I said, reaching across the table with a napkin to wipe his mouth. "Your mother will have my head."

"The piece of cake is bigger than me."

"Yes, well, you've made quite a little piggy out of yourself, for you've eaten the entire piece."

While my son finished off his piece of cake, I sat there looking at him, taking in every feature he possessed. Oh, he resembled my Christine in a way, but I couldn't help but see mostly all of myself staring back at me. He had been born with my angel's lips, but everything else was me. He had my eyes, my nose, my ears, my smile…Everything was me.

"So, what other things do you like to do besides writing music?" I asked. "Surely you must love other things as well."

"I do enjoy operas."

I chuckled, for the boy was most certainly me in every way.

"All right, but what about your favorite ice cream?"

"Strawberry with sprinkles. Do you have that here on Coney?"

I smiled. "Yes, Gustave, I believe we have every flavor of ice cream known to man."

"Could we get some sometime? I'm sure mother would love to get ice cream with us."

"I'm sure we could work something out."

"Yes, and perhaps we could go swimming sometime too. I don't know how to swim; I never had anyone to teach me. Do you know how to swim, Mister Y? Surely you must, for you dove into the bay to save mother."

"There's plenty of time for all of this, Gustave."

When my son yawned, I lifted him into my arms.

"Come along, we should be getting home. It's nearly time for your mother and I to go out."

And as I carried Gustave home, people stared, but I didn't care for those stares gave me confidence. Those stares made me feel good inside, for it was proof, proof that I was just like every other living man, proof that I had a woman who loved me, and from our love, we had conceived a child…And oh, what a beautiful one he was.

Christine's POV

I kept checking the time as I dressed for the evening. Surely Erik and Gustave would be home at any second. It was seven twenty, and Erik was never late. We had reservations for eight, and I knew he would want to be at the restaurant by seven forty-five. After fastening the last button on the red dress Erik had purchased me just this afternoon, I began tying my hair up. I knew how much Erik loved it when my curls were set in a bun, for he always found something erotic about letting my hair loose and seeing them bounce out along my shoulders and back.

When I heard a knock at the door, I hurried with finishing my makeup. Afterwards, I approached the door and took a breath before opening it to find Erik standing there with one hand carrying a beautiful bouquet of roses, while the other supported Gustave's sleeping form against his body.

"These are for you," he whispered. "I will be right back, let me just lay Gustave down."

I inhaled the wonderful scent of the soft red petals, as Erik walked across the room and placed Gustave down on the couch. After covering his body up with a blanket, he came back towards me and held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

"Of course." I said. "Let me just find a vase to put these in."

I hurried into the kitchen, being quiet so that I would wake Gustave. After placing the beautiful roses into the water filled vase, I came back towards Erik to find him waiting there with my cloak in hand.

"Madame…" he wrapped the garment over my shoulder, extending his hand to escort me out the door.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Christine." He said, pressing a chilled kiss to the top of my hand. Raoul never complimented me on my appearance, which made me feel warm inside when Erik had just done so. Such a wonderful man this was before me, and I never wanted to lose him. In the morning, I would venture out in search of Raoul to tell him that I wouldn't be returning to Paris with him. But that was tomorrow… Right now, all I wanted to do was spend the next few hours side by side with Erik, enjoying our meal and whatever the future held for us afterwards. It had been ten whole years since I last got to be alone with my angel of music, and to be able to experience it again would be pure heaven.

"Come along, Christine." He said. "I know just the place."

Heaven indeed, heaven at last, time spent with my angel was finally back from the past.

Sorry that I haven't updated in a few days. My computer broke... Anyway, enjoy and please review. Also, a few of you asked which version of Phantom my Erik is, and I can tell you that he is the Musical Phantom with a dash of Leroux thrown in there. I enjoy Ramin's Phantom, personally, so I guess you could say that he is Ramin haha.