Through Music We Love

Epilogue

A breeze picked up and blew through the window, scattering music across the room. A boy leaps from his chair and grasps desperately at the flying pieces of paper as they whisked off of his desk.

A woman sat in the corner, a smile stretched across her weathered face. She shakily makes her way to the window and shuts it gently. "Have things stopped flying?" She asks merrily although her voice was strained.

The boys sighs and bends to pick up the remaining papers, his tall frame so similar to his father. "I just want this to be perfect for Erik." He mutters, pushing his brown hair out of his eyes. The woman's smile grew, he held himself like Erik, all nervously proud.

"You could play an F sharp for twenty minutes straight and Erik would say you created a masterpiece." The woman hobbles over to her son, her grey streaked hair falling over her shoulders. "He will love whatever you bring him because he loves you."

"I know, Cecelia, but what if- Ow!" The boy reaches a hand down to rub his knee as Cecelia returns her cane to the ground.

"Gustave," she says, her blind eyes fixated on his face. "You are amazingly talented and this piece that I've heard you play is beautiful beyond reckoning. But I don't have time to listen to you go through all your 'what if's. We should go see Erik and show him the piece."

Gustave shakes his head with a gentle smile on his face, his coffee eyes lit up with warmth as he looked down at the woman who had raised him. "Alright, let's get going then." He gathered the sheet music off of his desk, grabbed his violin and they made their way to Erik.

Within a few short moments they were standing solemnly at a smooth black gravestone with golden letters scrawled across its face and white masks plastered in its corners. Their matching black clothing, a stark contrast to the frosted grass.

"Hello, Erik." Cecelia whispers warmly, her voice choked with love. "Gustave prepared you a piece and, we thought you would enjoy it. He is so very nervous about playing for you, my love."

Gustave shifted his feet as his mother traced her hands across the golden letters, a smile warmly lighting her face.

"I named the piece after you." He chokes out. "The Phantom's Love." Gustave places the violin under his chin and sets the bow across the strings before starting his piece.

Memories flood Cecelia's head once more. A chance meeting in a dark tunnel under an opera house in France. A slow love in a cramped bedroom with far too many instruments. A painful heartbreak as the two are separated. A joyous reunion at a foreign land. The terror of nearly losing one another again. The pain of losing a mother and a friend. The hard years of recovery before the blissful happiness of many years together. The fresh pain of losing Erik for the last time as he died in his bed.

Gustave played all of this through his music that Erik and Cecelia had fostered and cared for. Gustave smiled sadly into the cold fall night as he saw tears on his mother's face.

A bittersweet feeling came across him as he watched his mother relive everything through his music.

When Gustave finished the piece he placed the violin back in the case and swept his mother into a hug. "Its been 35 years," Cecelia whispers. "35 years since my sister killed your mother. A week ago we were laughing and writing a piece for Raoul." She says her tears escaping her eyes.

"I know, mama." Gustave hugs her tightly and runs a hand down her back. "I know."

The two sit in silence for a few more moments before leaving fresh roses at  the site and making their way home.

Through music they had thrived.

Through music they had lived.

Through music they had loved.

Now, through music they will be remembered. Their story told for years after they have left this world. Their songs played at every street corner and in every well known theater.

They will never be forgotten just as the music will never truly reach the Finale.