Hetalia: Moulin Rouge 1
Prologue: Paris. 1900
A small girl sitting on a roof sighed; she stared at the gray skies of Paris and wondered, how in the hell did it all come to this? As a soft wind blew through her hair, she began to sing softly.
~There was a boy, a very enchanted boy~… ~They say he wondered very far, very far, over land and sea~… ~A little shy~, and sad of eye~, but very wise, was he~…
~And then one day~, a magic day~ he passed my way~, and while we spoke of many things~, fools and kings~, this he said to me~...
~The greatest thing~, you'll ever learn~, is just to love~, and be loved in returned~.... . . . . . . . .
A Spaniard with chocolate brown hair and glowing green eyes sat at the corner of his torn room, pieces of papers, empty whisky bottles and broken glass lay all around him. He sobbed softly, taking a swig of his whisky and grunting, feeling the liquid burn his throat as he drank. After another soft sob, he heard a soft tone, staring up he listened carefully, once the song was over he sighed and stayed there, waiting. He waited and waited, as if finding the strength within himself to get up. Finally finding it, he stood and headed towards a desk not far from where he was. It was a small writer's desk, nothing fancy like most of the other famous writers, and on it was a type writer, covered in dust, just waiting to be cleaned and used once more. The Spaniard eyed the type writer, and then slowly, lifting his hand he played a little with the keys. Suddenly a determined look crossed his face and soon the man threw the whisky bottle out the window and headed towards the other side of his room. Upon his return he brought back with him a large stack of paper, placing it next to the type writer as he grabbed a cloth and began to wipe it clean. Once done he threw the cloth to the side and sat himself down.
at his desk with his type writer, he sat there for a few minutes, wondering how he should start his story. He sniffled and sobbed softly, trying his upmost hardest not to break down into tears again. The smell of alcohol and tears lingered in the air. The Spaniard sniffed once more before wiping away a few tears away, before he began typing...
A Moulin rouge, a night club. A dance hall and a bordello. Ruled over by Francis Bonnefoy. A kingdom of night time pleasures, where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld.
The most beautiful of all these, was the boy I loved... Romano...
A male courtesan...
He sold his love to men... They called him, the sparkling Diamond, and he was the star, of the Moulin Rouge.
The boy I loved. . . Is. . . . Dead . . .
A/N: I really liked the movie and although I said I'd never write about any hetalia characters dying or a tear jerker unless it involved someone I hate deeply. I could not help myself! I just couldn't help but write this one! By the Gods I'm so sorry Romanito! I promise I'll make you the star of all my other fan fic's bro! And as for Antonio... I don't like you... I don't think I'll ever like him since he is er or was a sort of stalker towards Italy and only judged Romano on the outside. He should have at least tried! Why do you think all my other fanfics are so sympathetic towards Lovi? Because I love him that's why! And I'll always write a fanfic in his favor... Unless... Ya know... You as fans want me to write a different fanfic in someone else's favor then sure! I'm up for a good challenge!
Anyway on with the story! I suggest you watch the movie! It's so good! It's directed by the guy that made Romeo and Juliet with Leonardo De'caprio (I think that's how you spell it) only it doesn't suck as bad! It turned out awesome and pretty epic! Oh well, my story is for you, the fans, *points to fans* to decide!
Enjoy and please comment!
Also I know it's short but I promise it will only get better!