It had been one year since Autumn went to New York with Anabel. 

Gustave had turned 19 or so in the fall, but who was counting?

Paris' light and crowds were now a part of him. It echoed the thousands of voices in his soul searching for a way out. Gustave had escaped his old life, full of crawling through catacombs and chasing music. Sure he missed it, sure the best moments were when at the end of the day he returned home into his parent's arms: but he knew it to be for the best. 

He had, after all, made a few friends, a band brothers he would gladly fight for. 

He took each day as its own, seized it and made the most. He walked with confidence and purpose, The Opera Populaire had filled his heart with ambition and his head with horse sense and fact. 

He knew who he was, Gustave Daae Dechangy, and he meant to fulfill that name.

He knew who he wanted to be someday. 

Gustave Destler. 

And that was all he could ask for. 

He found himself a humble living among the hustle and bustle selling a few papers here and there but mainly working as an apprentice as one of the box tellers for tickets. 

Some nights he would bunk with his friends, others at home. Others in the stairwell below box five. He always felt freest there, though he never knew why. 

One night as Gustave stood on the roof, before going back down into the Opera House, he decided to take a moment, as he used to many a year ago, and stare up into that great never-ending schism. He stared at the bright vibrant specks of light, so insignificant that shined and broke through the blankness between him and them. 

Peter, who had grown and matured into a handsome 12 soon came up beside him.

"Hey. What you thinking about?" his friend asked nudging him slightly, "You dreaming about that dame again?"

Gustave blushed and put his hands in his pockets. "Peter you know me all too well. Any closer to me and I'll have to kill you. And she isn't just a girl. She's the sun, the moon, a goddess of a song!"

Peter stared at Gustave sadly, he had come to know his predicament. He wouldn't dare admit it for fear, but he knew plenty about Gustave that had never been spoken aloud. 

Plenty of secrets. 

"Which dame?" he laughed.

Gustave rolled his eyes and sighed. "Both of them, All of them. One more than the other, I just gotta figure out which one."

Gustave looked down at the city lights, he had so much he wanted to so, yet it seemed impossible.

He shook his head sadly, "My father has been imprisoned here his whole life. Slaving after some girl, some family, so impossible piece of music he won't ever touch. Well, It's not gonna end that way for me Peter. I won't let it!" 

Peter laughed and punched his shoulder, "But Paris is so full of light, so full of love if you know where to look. Why the moment my second cousin's uncle's pet monkey keeled over-" 

Here he went cross-eyed and pretended to die, making even the distressed Gustave smile-

"The moment his money entered my bank account, Paris was full of more light than ever before."

Gustave took a deep breath, admiring Peters expensive clothes, "Yeah I guess money is alright for some people. But give a big life in a small town with a nice comfortable girl and I couldn't ask for more." 

He sat down and Peter sat down beside him, their feet dangling loosely off the edge. 

"Don't you ever turn 19 Peter, it's almost worse than 18." Gustave sighed. "Girls aren't worth it, money isn't anything worth anything. And sure you like it now. You like it can buy you ice skates, but it won't buy you happiness, not in the end."

Peter gave a scoff and laid down, pulling his hat over his face, "Thanks for depressing me."

Gustave whacked him teasingly and Peter stood up in a mad rush. 

"Say! Maybe we hitchhike over to the West Coast of America, see the sights, live a little!"

"Peter you believe in too many fantasies," Gustave laughed, " Even the grand old west is only a barrel of dirt with some gold in it."

"Hey Gustave?" Peter asked.

"Yeah?" Gustave laughed dusting himself off. 

"You every miss your father?" Peter asked. "I know you still see them, I still see mine too but-"

"Yeah, Peter, I miss him," Gustave mumbled. "My sister, my brother, my mother. I miss them till It hurts. but I don't think too much about it though. Does no good."

Peter nodded.

He felt the same.

"Come on," Gustave said jumping down, "Firmin will be after my head if I'm any later than usual." 

"Dumb will, stupid bank locking up my money till I'm twenty." Peter groaned, "Firmin wouldn't dare mess with us once I have my fortune in full. Nor Andre! I thought they would be finished after the whole place burned down but here they are again. The ghost leaves and the idiots returned."

Gustave smiled. 

"Alright," Peter said throwing a hand in the air, "One ghost leaves but you haven't exactly been fulfilling the duties of your night job."

Gustave turned away with a blush, "You know what happened last time."

Peter kicked his shoe into the gravel and sighed, "No I don't. Nobody will tell me."

Gustave shuddered, "There was a fire, that's all you need to know." 

Peter mimicked his words angrily, then seeing Gustave's irritated eyes thought it better to silently retreat down to the opera house. 

Gustave made his way back to the offices.

-----------

"Gustave Dechangy!" an irate voice called, "Where is your red scarf?!" 

Gustave moaned and closed his eyes, "I left it upstairs sir." 

"Pity, pity for your mother we hire you out of, and you can't even wear the uniform," Firmin exclaimed entering the room. "Your mother was quite a beauty, her death on that dock was a disgrace to humanity. Pity indeed.. She might have taught you more respect." 

Gustave smiled to himself, oh if only he could give Firmin with the knowledge he possessed. The man would die in horror. 

"I still wonder your father doesn't come you," Firmin continued, "With all the money he has."

Gustave sighed he knew what was coming next, he had heard it a million times.

"Oh wait- you have no money because your father spent it all-"

"At a gambling table in Monte Carlo. Yes, Sir, I am aware of the most current news." Gustave finished in a deep tone. "He's a flawed man but not a stupid one. No doubt he does his best."

All he received in reply was a small huff of disappointment. 

"If you ever want to do more in the world than sweep floors, I'd suggest holding your tongue." Firmin finally noted. 

Gustave nodded, he didn't have time for this. He'd work hard and fast as he always did. Ilios would be waiting for him. 

-----------

Christine brushed her daughter hair gently, her golden locks falling in long curls all down her back. 

"Will Peter be there?" Ilios asked eagerly. 

"I don't know dear," Christine smiled. 

"Peter always brings me chocolate." Ilios grinned revealing her true aspiration. 

Erik sat down beside the pair and quietly spoke, "Should he fail to provide, I will retrieve a box of first thing in the morning."

"Oh papa, how wonderful!" Ilios gushed peppering him in small kisses and hugs. 

"Erik you spoil her so," Christine scolded, "She must learn she can't always have her way." 

"Let me keep her little as long as I can Christine, she already has young men bringing her chocolates," Erik stated firmly with a smile gracing his lips. 

"I'm home!" Gustave called flying in the back door and slamming it like a crack of doom, "Come sister mine, come hide with me from the evil Firmin."

"Where oh where?!"Ilios laughed gleefully running to her brother. 

"Hmm," Gustave said looking over her head. "I could have sworn I had a sister here somewhere."

"I'm here! Right here!" Ilios said eagerly pulling frantically on Gustave's vest, "I'm here Gustave."

"Now what was her name? Jane?"

"No!"

"Isabella that was it..."

"No!"

"Is- Ili-Lilly?" Gustave said slowly watching as his little sisters face slowly turned to red in exasperation. 

"Ilios!" She cried out finally.

He swept her up into his arms and tickled her violently. "That was it!" He shouted. "And by chance madam is Ilios- You?!"

"Yes, yes!" she laughed joyfully, "Yes Gustave!"

"My how you've shrunk," He teased, "Last time I saw you, you were...oh about as tall as a horse."

"No, I wasn't!"

"Yes! You were I remember it all too well!"

"Wrong!" Erik said coming out to greet his son, "But I do recall her being at least as tall as the pipe organ over there."

"Papa! How silly, I was never quite so tall." Ilios said baffled. 

Erik kissed her forehead and smiled, "No, I do suppose you've always been as tall as you are now. And what a perfect height for such a delightfully pretty girl." 

Ilios giggled and turned to kiss her mother goodbye. 

"Take care of my little Angel," Erik sighed resting a hand on Gustaves back, "Bring her home safely. She so treasures your little trips"

"Of course" Gustave nodded. 

How good it was to be home.