(Author's Note: My first Moulin Rouge fic! Just a short piece about Christian if he hadn't gone to Paris in the first place. I needed to write something before Writer's Block took hold of me completely... it's beginning to creep in. Someone save me!)
Disclaimer: I don't own Moulin Rouge, duh. I also don't own the teensy bit of lyrics at the end from Garth Brook's Now I Don't Have to Wonder Anymore.
Now I Don't Have to Wonder
"Always, this ridiculous obsession with love!" Christian's father's words echoed in his ears and he bowed his head, ashamed.
"I'm sorry, Papa." His voice was soft and meek.
"You'll end up wasting your life at the Moulin Rouge!"
The Moulin Rouge... the words had lost their sparkle since he had first heard them, spoken by his friends. They themselves had heard only tales and rumors of the magnificent nightclub. None had gone. None had ventured over one hundred miles from their homes. Christian had planned to. He himself had wondered about the stories, about the girls... about the Sparkling Diamond. Was it all fairy tales from men drunk with absinthe? He wondered.
His father's voice softened and he put an arm around Christian's shoulders. "My son... you have everything you could want. Here." With his hand, he gestured out over the office. "Your family is here. Your job. You can find a wife. There are many pretty young girls who would gladly answer yes, if only you asked." He smiled. "Love isn't everything, Christian. The most important thing is to find someone who you can grow old with and who will help you succeed. Everything you need is here."
The boy sighed, his breath blowing strands of hair away from his face before they resettled again. "Of course, Papa." Suddenly, before his eyes, he could see his ambitions, his dreams fading away. He would end up like his father... old and successful, but with no fond memories from his youth. Christian doubted his father had been as young as he. It didn't seem possible. But he was right.
"So you'll stay?"
Another sigh escaped his lips as he moved to hang up his hat on the peg by the door. His future was fixed now. He was powerless to change it. The doorway seemed to beckon to him. It was calling him to the cities of Paris, to the Moulin Rouge, to... love. Love. Above all things he had believed in love. He could have known love. He had always wondered what it would be like... to be in love. But... "I'll stay."
Immediately, his father brightened. "That's my boy!" He patted him roughly on the back and strode off to announce Christian's change of plans. The boy stared after him. His eyes slowly shifted to the window. Already the light streaming in seemed to dim. The world had lost its sparkle. There would be no more wondering.
Biting his lip, Christian grasped the window sash and pulled it over the glass, thrusting the room into darkness. A solitary tear trembled in the corner of his eye. His voice cracked as he damned himself to his father's life. "And in less time than it takes a tear to fall..." The tear slipped from his face, the perfect drop shattering on the wood floor along with his perfect dreams. "Now I don't have to wonder... anymore."
Fine
Disclaimer: I don't own Moulin Rouge, duh. I also don't own the teensy bit of lyrics at the end from Garth Brook's Now I Don't Have to Wonder Anymore.
Now I Don't Have to Wonder
"Always, this ridiculous obsession with love!" Christian's father's words echoed in his ears and he bowed his head, ashamed.
"I'm sorry, Papa." His voice was soft and meek.
"You'll end up wasting your life at the Moulin Rouge!"
The Moulin Rouge... the words had lost their sparkle since he had first heard them, spoken by his friends. They themselves had heard only tales and rumors of the magnificent nightclub. None had gone. None had ventured over one hundred miles from their homes. Christian had planned to. He himself had wondered about the stories, about the girls... about the Sparkling Diamond. Was it all fairy tales from men drunk with absinthe? He wondered.
His father's voice softened and he put an arm around Christian's shoulders. "My son... you have everything you could want. Here." With his hand, he gestured out over the office. "Your family is here. Your job. You can find a wife. There are many pretty young girls who would gladly answer yes, if only you asked." He smiled. "Love isn't everything, Christian. The most important thing is to find someone who you can grow old with and who will help you succeed. Everything you need is here."
The boy sighed, his breath blowing strands of hair away from his face before they resettled again. "Of course, Papa." Suddenly, before his eyes, he could see his ambitions, his dreams fading away. He would end up like his father... old and successful, but with no fond memories from his youth. Christian doubted his father had been as young as he. It didn't seem possible. But he was right.
"So you'll stay?"
Another sigh escaped his lips as he moved to hang up his hat on the peg by the door. His future was fixed now. He was powerless to change it. The doorway seemed to beckon to him. It was calling him to the cities of Paris, to the Moulin Rouge, to... love. Love. Above all things he had believed in love. He could have known love. He had always wondered what it would be like... to be in love. But... "I'll stay."
Immediately, his father brightened. "That's my boy!" He patted him roughly on the back and strode off to announce Christian's change of plans. The boy stared after him. His eyes slowly shifted to the window. Already the light streaming in seemed to dim. The world had lost its sparkle. There would be no more wondering.
Biting his lip, Christian grasped the window sash and pulled it over the glass, thrusting the room into darkness. A solitary tear trembled in the corner of his eye. His voice cracked as he damned himself to his father's life. "And in less time than it takes a tear to fall..." The tear slipped from his face, the perfect drop shattering on the wood floor along with his perfect dreams. "Now I don't have to wonder... anymore."
Fine
