A Suprising Audience ( Gustave )

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

Raoul paced the piano room anxiously, holding the velvet box containing the replica of his mother’s ring in his hand. In the other was his gray fedora. He was dressed in a blue three-piece suit and a red tie. In his mind he debated how he was going to go about ‘popping the question’, so to speak. He wasn’t sure what would be best—a traditional romantic dinner or something completely different. Since she was an artist he considered a song—but he didn’t think himself all that good at singing regardless of what other people might tell him.

One of his coworkers suggested having a group of friends sing the song for him, and had even volunteered in case he did go with that option, but he had decided against it. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be a spectacle. Frankly he had imagined his proposal as a quiet, intimate affair. It was strange, this feeling of nervousness—something he hadn’t felt toward her since they were children. He felt very much like a boy again—afraid, yearning for her approval…except this time he also wanted her love.

He brushed his fears aside as best he could and sat down at the piano bench, setting the fedora on top of the piano and then starting to play the piece he had chosen. It was rather modern—and by modern he meant modern to this world—and apparently sung by a man named ‘Bruno Mars.’ It was a strange name to be sure, but the song served the purpose it needed to, and—should he use it—it would get his point across easily enough. His hands glided across the keys as he began to sing,

“ It's a beautiful night,
We're looking for something dumb to do.
Hey baby,
I think I wanna marry you.

Is it the look in your eyes,
Or is it this dancing juice?
Who cares baby,
I think I wanna marry you…”

[Gustave de Chagny]

Gustave had been wandering on his way to go to the piano room again. He had found the room once before and it was great fun to him. He missed his piano back at home in Paris and wished that it were here with him. This obviously wasn't the same piano, but it was still capable of creating sweet, beautiful music all the same. It was while he was walking down the hall, nearing the room, that he head someone singing and playing.

Curious, the boy tiptoed over and cracked the door open, peering inside. Seated at the piano bench, he say a man with dirty-blonde hair wearing a gray fedora and playing the piano. The man looked a little like his father, but his father didn't play the piano.... Or at least, Gustave didn't think that he did.

Silently, the boy crept into the room and sat down on the ground, crisscrossing his legs and resting his head in his hands and his elbows in his lap, listening and watching as the man played.

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

Raoul played and sang out a few more verses before stopping abruptly with a sigh. No, this would never do. She could talk about his singing all she wanted but it was nothing special. She deserved something special—no, something extraordinary. He didn’t know how he was going to give her that. He didn’t know how to propose to a woman—the stupid play hadn’t really clarified how he had proposed to Christine, only bringing up the fact that they were engaged. But how do I ask her?

He turned around, preparing to get up and pace again, but froze upon seeing the brown-haired boy sitting in front of him. “I…how did you get here?” he asked incredulously, and then looked at the door, feeling rather stupid. “I mean…how long have you been sitting there, kid?” he questioned, worried that he had heard him sing. He’s just a kid… And if he went to the school, he knew he was the music teacher. However he was certain that this boy didn’t go to the primary school.

He looked the right age for it—he guessed no older than twelve. He didn’t know, though, he was bad at guessing ages. He had never seen the boy before, which, if he worked at a larger primary school, would be of no consequence, but this town and as a result, its school, were small. Therefore he knew everyone by face if not by name, since all the children at some point took his English and music classes. But this boy was a complete stranger.

The second reason why he knew that he didn’t go to the school was the way he was dressed. It wasn’t quite Victorian—from his reading, he guessed it was Edwardian, the time period that came after his youth—but it was familiar. “I don’t believe we’ve met…I am Raoul de Chagny—I teach at the school up the road in town.” he stated with a smile.

[Gustave de Chagny]

Gustave continued listening as the man who resembled his father continued to play and to sing a bit more. He really was good. Perhaps not as fabulous as some of the pianists he had heard on the gramophone, but there was no doubt that he had talent. The boy clapped a little when he stopped, forgetting for a moment that he had been listening without his presence being known. It was soon afterward that the man who had been playing noticed him and asked how long he had been there.

He stared at the floor apologetically and replied. "Not very long, sir. I'm sorry... I heard music and was curious." he had never heard music quite like that before. It was different, but he liked it. It was new and exciting and beautiful -- like the music he heard in his head and in his dreams. This was the first time he had heard anything like that though outside of his own head.

The young lad's eyes widened a little when the man stated his name. Not only did this man resemble his father a bit, but he had the same name as him too! The man asked him for his name. "Gustave," he replied politely. " My name is Gustave de Chagny. You have the same name as my father." he stated in observation. How very peculiar....

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

“No…no, it’s alright.” Raoul replied when the child apologized. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t been more careful. He should have kept the door shut…he was just lucky that Christine hadn’t found him. That would have most certainly been a disaster, if she knew what he was planning to do. The singing route perhaps wasn’t the best…he didn’t really think he could sing this song well, and honestly he wasn’t too fond of it.

He cocked an eyebrow at the boy when his expression changed from remorse to wonder. Then it was his turn to gawk. His blue eyes widened and he nearly toppled from his chair. “G..Gustave de Chagny?” he repeated in shock. Then he commented that he shared the same name as his father. Because I am your father… he realized, raking a hand through his hair as he recalled the name the elder Christine had mentioned. For a few moments he just stared at the boy in shock. It wasn’t every day a man got to meet his son before he even existed.

“Isn’t that…strange.” he stated with a chuckle, standing up so that he could see the boy more clearly. He resembled Christine all right. He had a lot of her features, and there was no question that he was her son, but he didn’t look a thing like him. Oh well…he supposed some kids just took after one parent. “I’ve met your father—and your mother. The Vicomte and Vicomtesse, correct?”

[Gustave de Chagny]

The boy nodded with a bright, beautiful smile when the man who looked a bit like his father repeated his name. “Mother says I was named after her father, but I never knew him. She said grandfather died a long time ago, before I was born...”

He looked at the man when he asked if his mother and father were the Vicomte and Vicomtesse. “Yes, they are, Monsieur,” the child said, nodding his head. “Have you met them before? I did not mean to worry them being gone, but it's so dull staying in the same spot for so long...”

[Raoul Christophe de Chagny]

Raoul continued watching the boy as he explained his namesake. Of course, that was like Christine to want to name her firstborn after her father. And of course he would have no objections to such a thing. He couldn’t help but let a ghost of a smile appear on his face. This—would one day be—his son. Their son. And he looked so much like her…

“Yes, I have.” he replied when Gustave asked him if he had met his parents. “You could say that they’re old friends of mine.” That wasn’t really a lie, with the exception of Edouard since in some nonsensical way he was him. He chuckled a bit as the boy revealed his inability to sit still. “Well, when they do notice you’re gone I’ll be glad to vouch for you.” he stated kindly. Something else occurred to him and he tilted his head. “Do you like music, then?”

[Gustave de Chagny]

The little boy beamed when the man with the same name as his father told him that he did, in fact, know his parents. That meant he would not get scolded for speaking with strangers later on, which was something he most certainly did not wish. He hated it when people were cross with him... But if this man were old friends with the, then surely that would not be the case.

“Oh, yes! Very much so!” The boy exclaimed when the man asked him is he liked music. “It's so very beautiful! Mother is a singer, and I learned how to play the piano some. It's my favorite instrument. Mother told me once that grandfather used to pay the violin. He must have liked music too.[/b]”