Erik's POV

I ran all over my park, searching for my child. I was frightened, for he never ran off like this before. The heat of the afternoon was intense, but not enough for me to give up looking for him. He was all I had left of Christine now…It was my responsibility to look after the boy.

"Gustave!" If I called the boy once, I called him ten times in an attempt to find him. After nearly thirty minutes of searching, I finally found him. I sighed in relief and stopped to catch my breath when I saw him sitting on a nearby bench that was facing the ocean. He was sitting there, resting his head on his hands that were embracing the wooden railings of the boardwalk. Oh, how I wanted to march right over to him and yell, but as I clenched my fists, my angel appeared beside me.

"Erik, rushing to his side in anger will do you no good. Just take a few deep breaths and calm yourself down. Be reasonable with him."

I did as my angel told me to do and approached Gustave's side with an open mind. I knew I needed to see things his way; otherwise he wouldn't speak, probably just run off again. I took a seat beside him on the bench and looked down at him. It was as if he hadn't even noticed that I was sitting beside him now.

"I thought you said you hated the ocean?" I questioned. "You're staring at it now as if you feel no fear at all."

When my child didn't answer me, I thought about what to say next. Oh, why was being a father so hard? I wasn't the man for the job, and yet, my angel was here beside me, telling me that I was the perfect man for it.

"Gustave, I understand that you are afraid to go to school. When I was your age, I didn't like it either. In fact, I only attended one day because of how badly I was treated by the other children. I had to teach myself everything…"

"You were home schooled." Gustave growled, keeping his eyes on the ocean. "So why can't I?"

"Because nowadays children go to school. Believe me, Gustave, I would love to home school you, but I haven't the time. I'm a businessman, one that is barely home long enough to sleep a full eight hours at night. I have a park to run, and therefore, you must attend school."

"Other children will make fun of me."

Gustave," I placed my hand against his back. "I've lived on this earth long enough to know that you can't let what other people say get to you. You have to hold your head up high. No matter who you are, people will always have something nasty to say. Look at me, I'm the owner of an entire amusement park, and yet everyday there is at least one cruel rumor about me written in the newspaper. They have seen my mask, and call me a freak…always wondering what I'm hiding behind it."

"I'm not good at sports, Mister Y."

My son was finally looking at me now, which was a major relief.

"And you're my son…I'm not very good at such things either. But there is one thing you are good at and that's music. You're an artist, Gustave and don't you forget that. To me, knowing how to play an instrument is more useful in this world than knowing how to kick a ball."

"But what if the children don't like me?" he worriedly asked. "What if I don't make any friends?"

"Gustave, you will make so many friends that you won't remember half their names…"

This caused my child to giggle…Oh, finally, a smile!

"Now, come along." I said, standing to my feet. "We should continue our rounds around Phantasma before the heat becomes too much to bear."

My child wiped his eyes and nodded, standing to his feet and following me as we headed back towards my park. I finished cleaning out the tunnel of love and clearing the remainder of my park of the storm debris. By the time three o-clock rolled around, the heat was so unbearable, that Gustave and I threw in the towel for the day and headed home. After taking a cool shower to clear away the muddy and sweaty grime that had covered my arms and back, I emerged from the tub to clean out my face. If there was one thing I loathed, it was the summer heat. Having to wear a mask was more unbearable than anything…Sometimes I had to clean my deformity twice a day or else my sweat would cause an infection.

"Erik, are you all right?"

I was leaning over the sink, running my soapy cloth over my deformity when I heard my angel calling for me. I looked up to see her standing beside me, a look of concern displayed across her face.

"I'm all right." I assured. "I just have to clean out every crevice of my deformity or else the sweat will cause an infection."

But me, being the clumsy person that I was, accidently cut my face with my finger. I hissed, but when Christine saw the droplets of blood dripping into the sink, she ran to my aid…Oh, to think, an angel running to my aid!

"Erik,"

"I'm perfectly all right, Christine." I assured, pressing the cloth against my bleeding wound. "It happens all the time. My hands aren't as sturdy as they used to be."

"You're bleeding."

"It will stop. Cutting my face isn't the worst thing in the world." I said. "Sometimes I won't wash my exposed skull out for days because of my fear of cutting a vein or artery…That's the worst that could happen. Oh, Christine, it's such a nuisance…"

"Just be careful, mon ange… You're all Gustave has now."

I pressed my eyes closed and nodded, for I knew it was true. When my bleeding stopped, I looked up, ready to say something to Christine, but she was nowhere to be found. Curse her with her appearing and disappearing at whim! After throwing on my shirt and waist coat, I headed back downstairs, finding my child lying sprawled out on the couch with a stack of music scores in front of him. I knew he was just as glad as I was to be out of the heat.

"I was thinking about making salad for dinner." I said as I passed by the couch. "Something cool and delicious all the same."

"I don't like salad, Mister Y…" my child whined.

I rubbed my temple as I entered the kitchen and opened my icebox.

"Well, what do you suppose I make then? I really don't want to turn the oven on…It's too hot for that, Gustave."

"Could we have pancakes and eggs? Mother used to make that for dinner some nights."

Without agreeing out loud, I went through my cabinets and pulled out the items I needed in order to make dinner. I had wanted to make salad, for it was something fast and easy, but with this impossible boy, I should have known otherwise. All I wanted to do, was finish up and lie down for a while. I was utterly exhausted, making the task of standing nearly impossible. In the morning, I would journey out and search for a school for Gustave to attend in a few weeks. I needed all the rest I could get, otherwise I would be too tired to do so. After flipping about ten pancakes and scrambling some eggs, I placed dinner down on the table and called Gustave into the kitchen. I then proceeded to sit down across from him and remove my mask. Usually, if I ever ate at the table, I would bring my work along with me. I wasn't used to just eating and doing nothing else…No matter what I did, I was always double tasking. So, while the boy ate, I sat there with my fork in one hand, and my new blue prints in the other. The silence was wonderful…or at least it seemed that way for the first three minutes. After that, Gustave interrupted me.

"Mister Y, what are you doing?"

I didn't look at my boy, only continued looking over my blueprints and eating…Well, not really eating…more like picking around my meal. No matter if I had a child to care for or not, food was simply something I would ever get used to.

"Working."

"I thought we were going to eat dinner together?"

I placed my work down and faced my dinner guest. Even back in Paris when I cooked Christine meals, I never joined her. Usually, while she ate I found myself in my music room waiting for her to be finished. I never felt worthy enough to dine with her, and I guess I still felt that way now. Yes, I was sitting beside the boy, but I didn't feel as though I could face him and enjoy a meal.

"We are having dinner together." I stated. "I'm just working through it."

Gustave looked down at his plate and twirled his fork through his eggs.

"Mother used to hate when Raoul did that. He used to come to the dinner table all the time with his work."

For the boy, I slid my work aside and began to eat again. I was so used to always working, that not working for five minutes was driving me mad. I had always been about my work, but now that I thought about it, perhaps it was because I had nothing else to live for…

"I apologize, Gustave." I said. "If it means that much to you, I won't work through dinner anymore."

I placed a smidge of my scrambled eggs into my mouth, my stomach churning from how much food I had consumed in the last five minutes. Yes, I hadn't eaten a lot, but ever since I was a child, I had stomach problems. If I ate more than a few spoonfuls of food, my stomach would reject it…It was the exact same thing that was happening now. I cringed as my stomach growled and gently pushed my plate away.

"What's wrong, Mister Y?"

"I'm full." I replied, standing to my feet in order to let the sickening feeling pass.

"But you hardly ate!" my son exclaimed.

I nodded and braced my hands against the counter, pressing my eyes closed as the sick feeling came and went. When I was feeling better, I took a deep breath and turned to clear my place from the table.

"Mister Y, do you have a tummy ache?"

"Yes, I do. I have trouble consuming food. If I eat more than a few spoonfuls, I get ill."

"I love food, Mister Y…Is it because of your face? Is that the reason you can't eat?"

"Not quite, Gustave."

After washing the dishes, the grandfather clock in my hall struck eight. I was ready to turn in for the night, but Gustave was wide awake, hard at work on his music. We had a big day tomorrow and I didn't want him to be tired.

"Gustave, I think it's time for bed."

Gustave looked up from his work, but only for the slightest of seconds.

"Mother lets me stay up until ten! It's only eight, Mister Y…"

"Yes, Gustave, I know." I assured. "But we have a big day tomorrow and I want us both to be well rested."

"I'm not tired, Mister Y."

Oh, how this boy was frustrating me to no end! All I wanted to do was go upstairs and lie down and yet, he was refusing to do the same.

"Gustave, it's time for bed." I said it a little louder this time, hoping he would listen to me. Though, when he didn't, I wanted to march straight over to him and pull the music scores out of his hands. I was about to do just that, when I felt Christine's hand upon my shoulder, only to turn and find her standing beside me.

"Anger will do the child no good."

"And just how did you get him to do what you wanted?"

"Erik, Gustave just isn't used to being here. He's still getting used to your home. Why don't you take him up to your room for a while and lie in bed with him? It will make him feel better about falling asleep."

Without another word, I took a deep breath to calm me down and approached my son.

"Gustave, why don't you come upstairs with me for a while?"

Surprisingly, my child agreed and followed me upstairs. I sighed in relief as I lied in bed, Gustave plopping down beside me with his music scores.

"Do you not like your room downstairs, Gustave?" I asked, covering myself with a few blankets.

"I miss my bed back in Paris."

"And just what made this bed so special?"

"Mother used to sing to me at night. I know it sounds strange, Mister Y, but my bed back home holds memories and scents that I won't ever be able to replace. Mother used to lie her head down on my pillow as she sang me a lullaby. I miss her…There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about her and wish that she were here."

"I know how you feel, Gustave." I said, brushing my fingers through his dark locks. "But either way, that bed downstairs is your new bed. You'll have to get used to it soon enough."

Gustave nodded. "I know, but I'm just not ready yet. I don't like being alone down there…"

"Take all the time you need. In the meantime, I have work in the morning and need my rest. How about we both turn in for the evening?"

"I really want to finish this song."

I smiled, for my boy was just like me. Always wanting to continue working until it was perfect. I chuckled and pried the papers from his tiny fingers.

"Those scores will be just how you left them in the morning. I don't want you to be tired. You need to look and feel your best."

"And why is that?"

"Because in the morning, we're going to be searching for a school to place you in. Yes, I know you dislike the idea, but it has to happen."

"Mister Y?"

"Yes, Gustave?"

"Do you think they'll like me? The schools?"

I nodded. "Yes, Gustave, they'll adore you. Now lie down and close your eyes."

When my son was laying beside me, I turned the lights off and closed my eyes, already feeling sleep wanting to take over my body.

"Mister Y?"

"Yes, Gustave?"

"Mother used to sing me a lullaby before bed. I'd sleep easier if you sang me one."

"What did your mother used to sing you?"

"A few songs," he stated. "But the one I wish to hear is the song mother sang for you…"

"What song is that?" I questioned, raising a brow in confusion. "Your mother never sang me a song?"

"Well, mother said she wrote a song for her angel of music. That must have been you…Didn't she ever sing it to you, Mister Y?"

I shook my head. "Your mother never wrote me a song."

"Well, she did and sang it to me one night. Then, I begged to hear it every night. It's a beautiful song, really…I miss mother singing it to me."

"Would you sing this to me, Gustave? How did it go?"

Gustave snuggled his head into my chest, and yawned, singing the first verse of the song my Christine had written for me.

"My angel of music, tall and beautiful…You were there, always there…

In the darkest of hours you comforted my sorrows and scared away the demons.

Always there, always watching, always there, always watching…"

Before I could even hear the next verse, my child was asleep. I could only smile and snuggle down beside him. My angel wrote a song about me and sang it to our son? Oh, the mere thought of it brought tears to my eyes. Had Christine really missed me that much? But before I could think another thought, I heard my Christine's sweet voice…And she was singing! Singing me that exact song…I closed my eyes as I felt her hand against my shoulder, and lied there listening to her soft, yet wonderful lullaby.

"My angel of music, tall and beautiful, you were there, always there…

In the darkest of hours, you comforted my sorrows and scared away the demons.

Always there, always watching, always there, always watching…

From angel to man you can through my mirror, leading me to a place full of dream and wonder. And through those countless and endless hours my love for you grew like the springtime flowers.

Always there, always watching, always there, always watching…

You taught me what beauty really means, that it sometimes can be found in your heart, it seems. And when you released me, I knew what was true, I knew in my heart that I always loved you…

Always there, always watching, always there, always watching…

But as fast as it happened, you were gone in the morning, but deep in my heart you were always there, always watching…"

When my angel's song ended, I rolled over onto my back, my room still pitch black and my angel nowhere in sight. Fresh tears slid down my cheeks as I lied there staring up at the ceiling. Yes, my angel might have been in heaven, but the truth of it all, was without her, I was in hell. I missed her, I wanted her, and yet, she would never be real again. No, she was an angel and nothing more, an angel who was always there and always watching…And I was waiting and dreaming for something that would never happen…

Please review! I know I haven't been updating as much as I would like to, but I've been so awfully busy with my published book. I'll try to update again hopefully within a week/week and a half. Don't fret! More it on the way!