Chapter 1: The Vision
~*
Christian stood in the garden of the Moulin Rouge, a gleeful smile on his face, dressed in his tailcoat suit and hat placed tilted on his head. Oh, how it glowed its shades of red once again, the windmill was fixed and spinning its way through the night. It was months that his favorite place, of memories and love, was closed, but Zidler found another person to help with the finances, and tonight was its true opening night.
He sighed and closed his eyes, twirling around with bounces in his steps, his arms spread out, basking in every sound and glow. Sweet memories of his first night, when he first met his bohemian friends, his love...Satine... oh, she was now to him a tragic love story, one you'd read over and over, getting so many different emotions every ending.
"Cwistian!"
He turned around, distracted, but beaming even more as a familiar face hobbled his way over, "Toulouse!"
Christian ran over to him, hugging him like it was his last, "Oh my dear bohemian friend, I've missed you so!"
He laughed, slipping out of Christian's friendly embrace, "Oh we all missed you too, Cwis. We all missed the Wouge, what a spwendid night indeed!"
"Oh, very." Christian sighed, looking at the rakes walking around the garden and into the theatere, which was cleared of chairs so the girls can dance again. "Shall we?", he asked.
"Of cou'se, the otha bohos awe waiting!"
Christian literally yipped, dancing around as if he was druken already, twirling and skipping and Toulouse laughing at this strangely happy, soulful poet. He waited by the door, watching him dance around until Christian remembered reality, stopping and looking at Toulouse, and other patrons, staring at him. He laughed at himself walking to the dancehall's doors, still with a bounce, and both of them made their way inside.
~
The beat of the music from the band filled the hall, the sounds of the rakes screaming for more, and the Diamond Dogs giving as much as they can. Christian looked as if it was his first time again, his eyes sparkling from the lights and his mouth gaping. Toulouse nudged him, "Come on, I see them!"
He didn't budge. He laughed, dragging Christian by his sleeve over to the table with the other three of the bunch.
Christian was sitting down already as he was slowly getting out of the daze and trying to blink out the spots in his eyes from the lights. Toulouse and the others were talking, enjoying a glass of absinthe. He took the glass in front of him, swirling it around, and took a sip. Ah, the bitter taste of Fee Verde absinthe was sweet, and again he took another sip, letting the bohos be and watching the dancers. Taking another sip, he looked at the door, seeing more coming in and one walking out-...wait... He stopped drinking and stared, the person walking out was looking at him, dead on. A familiar moustashed face-Duke?!
Christian gasped, choking on the absinthe, which he swollowed down the wrong pipe. Satie noticed hit him on the back a few times, "Christian, you okay?"
Toulouse and the others looked over, "I'm-I'm fine. Thanks."
"What happened?"
He looked back at the door, "I thought I saw someone familiar..."
"Who?", Toulouse asked.
Christian sighed, "...I guess it doesn't matter now. Not gonna let something like that hold my night down, aye?"
He chuckled, raising his glass as they clinked with the others and they sipped what ever was left. He looked over at the door still. Was it the Duke? No...it couldn't be... its just the absinthe, yes, just that...
~
Hours later, Toulouse and Christian walked out of the garden gates, the other bohos still finishing their 2nd bottle of Fee Verde with dancers on their breaks. The night, or late morning, whatever it was, had a light blue hue from the cresent moon over the Seine, as Toulouse followed the somewhat tipsy Christian up the stairs of the Chambres. He stopped at Chris' garret door, "Will you be okay fo the west of the night?"
"M hm, Christian nodded,"I'll be fine-?" He stopped mid-sentence, looking at a twice-folded piece of paper taped to his door.
"What is it?"
Christian opened his door and kept it open, sitting on his bed and pondering over the paper. "I don't know. It doesn't have a 'from' on it either."
"Open it, maybe its witten in there."
Christian unfolded the paper. Sure enough, there was something typed, but no signature at the bottom, or anywhere. "Hm. Nothing." He skimmed the message, and read it aloud;
"Christian
I noticed you came to the opening night of the Moulin Rouge. So did I, and its amazing how I saw you, but you didn't really notice I was there. I've seen you before in the past, how you fell in love with Satine. Everyone had a love for her, but during that time, I began falling in love as well.
With you.
I wish I could watch you every night. What you dream, what you nightmare, what you think, how you think, what you do, how you move, how you breathe. Oh, but I want to do more than that. I want to sleep beside you, wake up with you near me, stand over you, have you kneel before me, r...r-ride you, ...I-I want to get inside-oh my god..."
Christian shuddered, his breathing a little heavier than normal, "I...I can't read the rest." He folded it back up quickly and placed it on his night stand, staring at it.
Toulouse looked at him, then the paper. He picked it up and unfolded it, skimming it as well. "Woah..." he jutted back for a second, reading ahead from where Christian stopped, "whoeva this pe'son is weally wants you."
"Yea, but...but who is it?"
Toulouse looked over it again, turning it over to look for some signature. "I don't know. Maybe tomowwow we'll know. You should get some sweep. It will pass, okay?"
Christian nodded, thanking Toulouse for the night and watched as he shut the door to let him alone. He just stared at the celing, peering at the paper every few seconds. He reached over and brushed it off, letting it fall to the floor so he wouldn't look at it.
That night, he made sure he had a dreamless sleep.
~*
Christian stood in the garden of the Moulin Rouge, a gleeful smile on his face, dressed in his tailcoat suit and hat placed tilted on his head. Oh, how it glowed its shades of red once again, the windmill was fixed and spinning its way through the night. It was months that his favorite place, of memories and love, was closed, but Zidler found another person to help with the finances, and tonight was its true opening night.
He sighed and closed his eyes, twirling around with bounces in his steps, his arms spread out, basking in every sound and glow. Sweet memories of his first night, when he first met his bohemian friends, his love...Satine... oh, she was now to him a tragic love story, one you'd read over and over, getting so many different emotions every ending.
"Cwistian!"
He turned around, distracted, but beaming even more as a familiar face hobbled his way over, "Toulouse!"
Christian ran over to him, hugging him like it was his last, "Oh my dear bohemian friend, I've missed you so!"
He laughed, slipping out of Christian's friendly embrace, "Oh we all missed you too, Cwis. We all missed the Wouge, what a spwendid night indeed!"
"Oh, very." Christian sighed, looking at the rakes walking around the garden and into the theatere, which was cleared of chairs so the girls can dance again. "Shall we?", he asked.
"Of cou'se, the otha bohos awe waiting!"
Christian literally yipped, dancing around as if he was druken already, twirling and skipping and Toulouse laughing at this strangely happy, soulful poet. He waited by the door, watching him dance around until Christian remembered reality, stopping and looking at Toulouse, and other patrons, staring at him. He laughed at himself walking to the dancehall's doors, still with a bounce, and both of them made their way inside.
~
The beat of the music from the band filled the hall, the sounds of the rakes screaming for more, and the Diamond Dogs giving as much as they can. Christian looked as if it was his first time again, his eyes sparkling from the lights and his mouth gaping. Toulouse nudged him, "Come on, I see them!"
He didn't budge. He laughed, dragging Christian by his sleeve over to the table with the other three of the bunch.
Christian was sitting down already as he was slowly getting out of the daze and trying to blink out the spots in his eyes from the lights. Toulouse and the others were talking, enjoying a glass of absinthe. He took the glass in front of him, swirling it around, and took a sip. Ah, the bitter taste of Fee Verde absinthe was sweet, and again he took another sip, letting the bohos be and watching the dancers. Taking another sip, he looked at the door, seeing more coming in and one walking out-...wait... He stopped drinking and stared, the person walking out was looking at him, dead on. A familiar moustashed face-Duke?!
Christian gasped, choking on the absinthe, which he swollowed down the wrong pipe. Satie noticed hit him on the back a few times, "Christian, you okay?"
Toulouse and the others looked over, "I'm-I'm fine. Thanks."
"What happened?"
He looked back at the door, "I thought I saw someone familiar..."
"Who?", Toulouse asked.
Christian sighed, "...I guess it doesn't matter now. Not gonna let something like that hold my night down, aye?"
He chuckled, raising his glass as they clinked with the others and they sipped what ever was left. He looked over at the door still. Was it the Duke? No...it couldn't be... its just the absinthe, yes, just that...
~
Hours later, Toulouse and Christian walked out of the garden gates, the other bohos still finishing their 2nd bottle of Fee Verde with dancers on their breaks. The night, or late morning, whatever it was, had a light blue hue from the cresent moon over the Seine, as Toulouse followed the somewhat tipsy Christian up the stairs of the Chambres. He stopped at Chris' garret door, "Will you be okay fo the west of the night?"
"M hm, Christian nodded,"I'll be fine-?" He stopped mid-sentence, looking at a twice-folded piece of paper taped to his door.
"What is it?"
Christian opened his door and kept it open, sitting on his bed and pondering over the paper. "I don't know. It doesn't have a 'from' on it either."
"Open it, maybe its witten in there."
Christian unfolded the paper. Sure enough, there was something typed, but no signature at the bottom, or anywhere. "Hm. Nothing." He skimmed the message, and read it aloud;
"Christian
I noticed you came to the opening night of the Moulin Rouge. So did I, and its amazing how I saw you, but you didn't really notice I was there. I've seen you before in the past, how you fell in love with Satine. Everyone had a love for her, but during that time, I began falling in love as well.
With you.
I wish I could watch you every night. What you dream, what you nightmare, what you think, how you think, what you do, how you move, how you breathe. Oh, but I want to do more than that. I want to sleep beside you, wake up with you near me, stand over you, have you kneel before me, r...r-ride you, ...I-I want to get inside-oh my god..."
Christian shuddered, his breathing a little heavier than normal, "I...I can't read the rest." He folded it back up quickly and placed it on his night stand, staring at it.
Toulouse looked at him, then the paper. He picked it up and unfolded it, skimming it as well. "Woah..." he jutted back for a second, reading ahead from where Christian stopped, "whoeva this pe'son is weally wants you."
"Yea, but...but who is it?"
Toulouse looked over it again, turning it over to look for some signature. "I don't know. Maybe tomowwow we'll know. You should get some sweep. It will pass, okay?"
Christian nodded, thanking Toulouse for the night and watched as he shut the door to let him alone. He just stared at the celing, peering at the paper every few seconds. He reached over and brushed it off, letting it fall to the floor so he wouldn't look at it.
That night, he made sure he had a dreamless sleep.