The Affair

Chapter 4 *

Madame Giry led Christine to her old dressing room,, she opened the door and smiled at her, "Here you are." she said, she looked down at Gustave, "Would you like to stay in here with your mother, or do you want your own room?"

"I want to stay with my mother." Gustave smiled and jumped back onto the bed he'd just woken up from, "May I stay in here with you, mother?"

Christine nodded, "Of course you may." she said, releasing her suitcase onto the floor by the bed, she gently took Gustave's suitcase from Madame Giry and put it by her own, "Thank you. Thank you so much." she looked to her, "I have no idea where to start to repay you,"

"You're welcome, my dear." she smiled in return, "I must get back to my girls, are you fine to stay here by yourself?"

"Oh! Grandmother, may I come watch? I've always wanted to see mother dance, but father says no." Gustave stood from the bed, "May I go, mother?"

"If she says it's okay, you may go." she replied.

"Of course you may come, Gustave. As long as you're not disruptive." she answered him, she began to lead him out of Christine's room.

He followed quickly, yet quietly behind her. He looked at everyone around him and smiled, "Grandmother, do you dance?"

She found herself grinning at him, "Do you?"

"I love too!" He replied quickly, "I'm not as good as mother, but one time when father wasn't home, she and I danced while our maid, Annette, played her violin. My mother tried to teach me what she could before father came home."

"Did you have fun, Gustave?" Madame Giry led him to the stage, she paused, "Yes, by the way."

He watched her curiously, "Yes?"

"I do dance. I taught your mother everything she knows." she looked at him, "Maybe I could teach you as well." she said, "Well not me, however, Monsieur Al will teach you. I teach my girls, you would dance differently than they do."

"I know that. My father told me dancing was for girls." he said, "But another time when father wasn't home, mother took me to see an opera and boys were dancing in it too. So why can't I?"

"I never said you couldn't." she said, "I'm sure you'd be a great dancer."

"Thank you, Grandmother. I'm sure you're a great dancer too."

"I've been dancing for years. I have been here ever since I was 12. After I was taught here, I started working here. I love it here, you will too." she said to him, "You may sit here and watch. I have to go round up my girls." 

"Wait. Grandmother, what is that box up there?" he pointed to it, "What is it?"

She stopped and looked to where Gustave pointed, "That's box five. Would you like to sit there instead?"

"May I go up there? I'll come right back, I promise." he smiled brightly.

"You may." she said, "Be careful, alright?"

"Alright, Grandmother." he responded politely and ran off. He went up to box five and looked over the edge and down at Madame Giry, he smiled and waved at her, "Hi, Grandmother!" he shouted. His voice echoing throughout the whole theater.

She looked up at him, "Hello, Gustave." she smiled in return and turned around to face her ballet girls.

He giggled and looked around box five, he almost jumped out of his skin when he discovered a man standing behind him, "I... I'm allowed to be here, I swear! Grandmother said so!" he nervously tried to move away from him.

"What is your name, child?"

He looked at him, "Gustave..." he said, not taking his eyes off him, but still trying to move away. It was dark in the box,  he could hardly make an image out of the man in front of him to see who the man was, which scared him even more, "Who are you?"

"Gustave... Gustave what?"

"Gustave De Chagny." he spoke quietly, "Who are you?"

"That information doesn't require your knowledge."

"Well maybe you don't need to know who I am." he crossed his arms and made a 'hmph' sort of  noise.

"You've already disclosed that information to me."

"Darn it." he whined, "I'm telling my mother you're being mean to me."

"Christine is here?"

"You know my mother?" he asked, looking up at him, "Who are you, Monsieur?"

"Such a polite child. I suppose, as long as you keep a secret."

"Deal." he smiled brightly, "What's your name?"

"My name?"

"Yes. I want to know your name. Why can I not know your name? You know my name. I'll call Grandmother. She'll come yell at you. You don't want grandmother to come yell at you. Her voice gets loud and scary." he threatened.

"Who's your grandmother?"

"Madame Giry." he said, "She can be mean."

"I know her. She's not scary."

"My mother is scary! She'll yell at you then! Stop arguing with me! I'm only a child. That makes you look like a child. Stop acting like a child." he whined.

"Why don't you stop acting like a child."

"Well, I am a child." he huffed, "I have to go soon. I promised grandmother that I'd be back. Why won't you just tell me who you are?"

"I'll tell you, you must promise to keep a secret."

"I promise-" he looked at him.

"People call me 'Opera Ghost'."

"You're not a ghost. I can see you. I can touch you." he said, he grabbed his hand and pushed it against his, "See?"

He pulled away, "My name is Erik. I have to go."

"Wait- Are you the one that taught my mother to sing? She said she was taught by her Angel of Music. Are you him?" he asked.

"Yes. Goodbye, child."

"Goodbye,." he smiled brightly. He ran back down to Madame Giry to watch the rest of rehearsals.