Disclaimer: I own none of this, I'm making not one single penny from it,
etc etc
Author's Note: A bit of a "what if" fic featuring my favourite performer at the Moulin Rouge, Chocolat (who only has one line in the whole film. Seriously) and everyone's favourite Diamond-Dog-we-love-to-hate, Nini 'legs in the air'.
Set during Toulouse's party after the Duke agrees to fund 'Spectacular Spectacular' and the morning after.
* * * * * * *
The Night Before and the Morning After
By
Christine aka Piglitgirl
* * * * * * *
1 Chapter One: The Night Before
Montmartre was always noisiest at night. The Creatures of the Underworld spent their days rushing about, doing the jobs they had to do to keep them out of the gutters that littered the streets. The daylight showed up the cracks in the buildings and in the makeup of women. In a way, the Bohemians hated the sun – it had the power to show them the truth of their penniless existence. Poor accommodation, poor food, poor drink, few possessions. The strings of coloured bulbs across the buildings hung listlessly, clanging against each other forlornly.
At night, the lights came out and so did the bohemians. Suddenly the world was bright and beautiful and it was easy to forget in the haze that the rent was due and you had no way of paying it. The only thing that mattered was where the next exciting or beautiful thrill would come from. The person next to you perhaps, or the bottom of a bottle of Absinthe. Perhaps a painter or poet or singer would find you and turn you into a piece of art to be marvelled at by others.
"We live by parties," said Araby, pulling a shawl tighter across her shoulders. The other Diamond Dogs came up beside her and all stood gazing at the windmill's glistening lights. The garden they stood in was littered with broken bottles and glasses and the occasional hat from a patron who had forgotten to pick it up as he left.
"What do you mean by that?" asked China Doll.
"We spend half the night in there," Araby replied, gesturing her hand back to dance hall, "dancing, singing… being paid to put on a huge party. And then we go out to another party, to celebrate the fact that the Moulin Rouge isn't going to be a party anymore."
"You put it like that, I almost feel sorry that it's going to change," said Mome Fromage, pulling a compact out of her purse and scrutinising her reflection in the tiny mirror.
"Yeah, almost," sneered Nini. "Well, come on then. It'll be over before we get there!"
The last straggling patrons of the Moulin Rouge, heading their winding way home gazed in a kind of astonishment as the beautiful things they had danced and played with earlier that night strode out into the streets, laughing and shouting into the muggy air.
The party was already raging by the time they arrived. People scrambled over each other to leave the hot apartment and headed for the roof climbing over the rooftops. Satie was sitting on the piano, pounding out a mass of rhythms that soared over each other in disharmony. For once, he didn't seem to mind that his music sounded awful; perhaps he could hear the perfect tune in his head.
The Diamond Dogs dispersed as soon as they entered the door, finding their own little niche in the chaos. China Doll disappeared outside arm in arm with one of the other Diamond Dogs, Araby rushed over to Satie, shrieking as the Doctor left off one of his electrical explosions. Nini smiled, in her element. She laughed and spread her arms out, tilting her head backwards. Strong arms encircled her waist and spun her around. A deep, heavily accented voice murmured in her ear, "I love you. You're beautiful." She laughed even more loudly and leaned back so she could look her partner in the eye.
"You say that to all the girls, every night."
The Argentinean shook his head. "Doesn't make it any less true," he said solemnly. Toulouse rushed past and thrust glasses into their hands and then bustled away just as quickly. The Argentinean downed the green liquid in one and then pulled Nini closer to him, spilling her drink. "Lets dance," he growled.
She knew the steps well – after all, they had choreographed this together. It was supposed to be one of the big finales to the shows – a dance from the brothels of Buenos Aires. However, everyone knew that when it came to grand finales, nothing could beat a swing, a big band and the Sparkling Diamond.
Nini grabbed a bottle of Absinthe from one of the other performers and poured the bitter liquid down her throat. Almost instantly everything around her muted and became hazy as though a veil had been pulled over her eyes. She knew that after a few more drinks it would be hard for her to tell whether she was seeing everything through a shroud or whether a shroud had been lifted.
They spun out onto the balcony nearly falling and laughing. Nini looked out towards the Moulin Rouge and caught a flash of red moving across the dark head of the Elephant. She stopped laughing. Satine.
"That bitch," she growled. "She stole our finale, our dance." The Argentinean said nothing. He was looking at the Elephant as well, his expression blank and unreadable. Nini poked him in the ribs.
"Doesn't it bother you?" she asked. "She stole our ending!"
The Argentinean shrugged. "You know what they say. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da… life goes on."
"Defeatist," she snorted.
"We'll perform our dance," he replied firmly, as if he hadn't heard her. "One day. You'll see."
"Yeah. In the middle of the street to a bunch of drunk gentlemen."
"Perhaps."
Before Nini could reply, a beautifully manicured hand tapped the Argentinean on the shoulder. He turned and saw a pretty girl, wearing a grey dress and a little hat. She smiled flirtatiously.
"Can I cut in?" she asked, looking at Nini and smiling all the more widely.
"Sure," said Nini, draining the rest of the bottle she still clutched in her hands and throwing it down to the street below. Any lingering feelings she had once felt for the Argentinean had faded once she had understood what he was really like. He was a difficult person to know, an enigma wrapped in an enigma, which coupled with an accent to die for, a handsome face and body and natural rhythm and grace, was very attractive. But only for a while. He was a bohemian and therefore believed in love, and yet he scorned those who did fall in love. Nini had supposed that something had happened to him in Argentina, a love affair gone wrong or some other disaster. So he did what all Bohemians then did and left his problems behind, heading for the centre of the revolution.
She went back inside the party and shut her eyes, trying to pick out a rhythm in Satie's playing. The music filled her and twisted through her body, forcing it to move. Nini always found dancing extraordinarily tiring, because for that brief instant (and she didn't care how trite it sounded) she really was flying and it was always hard to come back to earth. Besides, it was the music that decided her movement, not her body and she often found herself moving in ways she could not usually. Occasionally she felt hands touch her, pass her about and she instinctively fell into them and let them guide her. She was content to know that they would direct her steps because they were also caught up in the music and the music would not let her fall.
Unfortunately, one of her 'partners' was so far gone on Absinthe that he was dancing to a completely different rhythm. He spun her too hard and she opened her eyes in surprise. She crashed into the back of a chair and fell over someone crouched on the floor. She looked up and saw Chocolat wearing a maroon feather boa leaning over her. His eyes were wide open and boring straight into hers. Without taking his gaze away from her, he picked up a small wooden box beside him and opened it, holding it out to her. Inside lay 5 beautifully thick cigars. Nini took one and put it in her mouth. He held out a match to her and then paused, looking her up and down. Just behind her head she could feel the void that was the hole in the floor and her legs were entangled in the chair she had crashed over and sticking up in the air. Chocolat regarded her gravely for a moment.
"Is this why they call you 'legs in the air'?"
Nini burst out into gales of laughter and after a moment so did Chocolat. He got up and pulled her legs free of the chair. She lay sprawled on the floor and he straddled her, laughing loudly. She twisted around to look down the hole and into the writer's room. She could see him, peering out of the window towards the Moulin Rouge.
"Alright darlin'?" she called. He ignored her. Or maybe he didn't hear her. Nini knew well enough what or who he was looking at. Only she could make men gawk like that. She said just that to Chocolat when he asked her what she was looking at. He cocked his head to one side.
"Are you jealous?" he asked, slurring his words slightly.
"A little," said Nini, sitting up cross-legged. "Not as much s you might think. I'm angry because she stole our," she pointed towards the Argentinean, "ending. Besides, the others are the same. I'm not much different." She gestured vaguely with the cigar towards Mome Fromage and Araby, dancing and throwing confetti over everybody.
"Besides, she's got to sleep with that Duke… wouldn't fancy that. And she's got to be exclusively his." She prodded Chocolat's chest for emphasis. "No more wild parties for darling Satine." He nodded and they both sat silently for a while, watching the party rage on. Somehow, drink found its way into their hands and Nini could hear herself laughing at nothing in particular.
One of the male performers twisted around the room, waving fans in everyone's faces. The Argentinean had a mock sword fight with the Doctor and ended up puncturing Toulouse's Swiss scenery. Toulouse became very cross and shouted at everyone to leave. He was placated by one of the Dogs. Nini laid her head on Chocolat's shoulder. Araby started singing to one of the tunes Satie was still pounding out.
What's the sense in sharing this one and only life?
Ending up just another lost and lonely wife.
You count up the years and they will be filled with tears.
There were catcalls and shouts of agreement from the crowd. Araby, flushed and laughing, climbed up one of the step ladders, pulling her skirt up to reveal her garter. Somebody wolf-whistled.
Love only breaks up to start over again.
You'll get the babies but you won't have your man.
She pointed at one of the Diamond Dogs who was rumoured to be pregnant. The Dog in question pouted and started shouting "she lies!" over the noise.
While he is busy loving, every woman that he can! Chorused the other Diamond Dogs. Araby spun around on the ladder, leaning dangerously back. Hands reached out to catch her if she fell. She pointed out the window towards the Moulin Rouge.
Said I wanna leave, a thousand time a day,
It's easier said than done, when you just can't break away!
Araby did fall backwards now but was caught by the Argentinean. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
Young hearts run free.
Never be hung up, hung up like my man and me!
Chocolat put his arm around Nini and kissed her clumsily on the cheek. She laughed and got up, pulling him with her.
"It's too hot in here," she said truthfully. He nodded.
"Let's go for a walk," he said taking her hand in his and leading her towards the door. They clattered down the stairs and spilled out onto the streets, giggling and waving at other late night revellers. The music from Toulouse's apartment poured out of the open windows and Nini shut her eyes, letting it fill her. Chocolat smiled indulgently and twirled her about, perfectly in time to the music. He guided her over the potholes in the road, past other people and up and down curbs. Finally, the music faded back into its previous discord and they stopped dancing. Nini let her head fall onto his shoulder and put her arms around his shoulders. He held her tightly to his chest. She eventually pulled away and studied his face.
"I like you," she said. "A lot."
He nodded. " I like you a lot too."
"Good," said Nini, wondering if this emotion she felt had sprung from her heart or the drunken swirl of her thoughts. It was odd, she decided because she never usually spoke to Chocolat that often. She knew him well enough to know that the reason he was called Chocolat was not because of his dark skin (although that probably had a hand in it) but because he ate such vast quantities of chocolate every day and that he always carried a pack of cigars around with him, although he hardly smoked. But there had never been anything there to suggest this happening.
He hesitated, then bent his head and kissed her. She made a faint noise against his lips and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He pulled away all too soon and smiled genuinely at her. She smiled back, feeling that this was the first time for a long time she had genuinely smiled at anyone.
"You don't taste like the cigar," he said. "I would have thought that you would."
She pulled the cigar out of her purse and wagged it in his face. "Never lit it."
"Ah," he said. She took his hand and led him silently into the Moulin Rouge's garden. As they passed the Elephant, they heard voices. Chocolat paused and looked up to the Elephant. Nini rolled her eyes but listened anyway. Low murmurings and laughter punctuated the garden's stillness.
"Who do you think is with her?" asked Chocolat.
"Maybe that writer. He seemed pretty eager." Chocolat shook his head.
"Nini, you are awful," he sighed.
"What? I'm speaking the truth. He liked her. Everyone does."
"I like her."
"You do?"
"Not like that. She's a nice person."
"I suppose," said Nini morosely. Chocolat glanced at her sad face. He thought for a moment and then picked her up in his arms. She shrieked in surprise and then laughed. He joined in and the air crackled with their laughter long after they had gone inside.
* * * * * * *
'Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da' is a Yiddish phrase I believe, that the Beatles used in (surprise surprise) 'Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da'.
'Young Hearts Run Free' – I don't know who did the original version but Kym Mazelle covered it for another great Baz Luhrmann film, 'Romeo + Juliet'.
'Chapter Two: The Morning After' will be up in the next few days.
Please r & r!
Author's Note: A bit of a "what if" fic featuring my favourite performer at the Moulin Rouge, Chocolat (who only has one line in the whole film. Seriously) and everyone's favourite Diamond-Dog-we-love-to-hate, Nini 'legs in the air'.
Set during Toulouse's party after the Duke agrees to fund 'Spectacular Spectacular' and the morning after.
* * * * * * *
The Night Before and the Morning After
By
Christine aka Piglitgirl
* * * * * * *
1 Chapter One: The Night Before
Montmartre was always noisiest at night. The Creatures of the Underworld spent their days rushing about, doing the jobs they had to do to keep them out of the gutters that littered the streets. The daylight showed up the cracks in the buildings and in the makeup of women. In a way, the Bohemians hated the sun – it had the power to show them the truth of their penniless existence. Poor accommodation, poor food, poor drink, few possessions. The strings of coloured bulbs across the buildings hung listlessly, clanging against each other forlornly.
At night, the lights came out and so did the bohemians. Suddenly the world was bright and beautiful and it was easy to forget in the haze that the rent was due and you had no way of paying it. The only thing that mattered was where the next exciting or beautiful thrill would come from. The person next to you perhaps, or the bottom of a bottle of Absinthe. Perhaps a painter or poet or singer would find you and turn you into a piece of art to be marvelled at by others.
"We live by parties," said Araby, pulling a shawl tighter across her shoulders. The other Diamond Dogs came up beside her and all stood gazing at the windmill's glistening lights. The garden they stood in was littered with broken bottles and glasses and the occasional hat from a patron who had forgotten to pick it up as he left.
"What do you mean by that?" asked China Doll.
"We spend half the night in there," Araby replied, gesturing her hand back to dance hall, "dancing, singing… being paid to put on a huge party. And then we go out to another party, to celebrate the fact that the Moulin Rouge isn't going to be a party anymore."
"You put it like that, I almost feel sorry that it's going to change," said Mome Fromage, pulling a compact out of her purse and scrutinising her reflection in the tiny mirror.
"Yeah, almost," sneered Nini. "Well, come on then. It'll be over before we get there!"
The last straggling patrons of the Moulin Rouge, heading their winding way home gazed in a kind of astonishment as the beautiful things they had danced and played with earlier that night strode out into the streets, laughing and shouting into the muggy air.
The party was already raging by the time they arrived. People scrambled over each other to leave the hot apartment and headed for the roof climbing over the rooftops. Satie was sitting on the piano, pounding out a mass of rhythms that soared over each other in disharmony. For once, he didn't seem to mind that his music sounded awful; perhaps he could hear the perfect tune in his head.
The Diamond Dogs dispersed as soon as they entered the door, finding their own little niche in the chaos. China Doll disappeared outside arm in arm with one of the other Diamond Dogs, Araby rushed over to Satie, shrieking as the Doctor left off one of his electrical explosions. Nini smiled, in her element. She laughed and spread her arms out, tilting her head backwards. Strong arms encircled her waist and spun her around. A deep, heavily accented voice murmured in her ear, "I love you. You're beautiful." She laughed even more loudly and leaned back so she could look her partner in the eye.
"You say that to all the girls, every night."
The Argentinean shook his head. "Doesn't make it any less true," he said solemnly. Toulouse rushed past and thrust glasses into their hands and then bustled away just as quickly. The Argentinean downed the green liquid in one and then pulled Nini closer to him, spilling her drink. "Lets dance," he growled.
She knew the steps well – after all, they had choreographed this together. It was supposed to be one of the big finales to the shows – a dance from the brothels of Buenos Aires. However, everyone knew that when it came to grand finales, nothing could beat a swing, a big band and the Sparkling Diamond.
Nini grabbed a bottle of Absinthe from one of the other performers and poured the bitter liquid down her throat. Almost instantly everything around her muted and became hazy as though a veil had been pulled over her eyes. She knew that after a few more drinks it would be hard for her to tell whether she was seeing everything through a shroud or whether a shroud had been lifted.
They spun out onto the balcony nearly falling and laughing. Nini looked out towards the Moulin Rouge and caught a flash of red moving across the dark head of the Elephant. She stopped laughing. Satine.
"That bitch," she growled. "She stole our finale, our dance." The Argentinean said nothing. He was looking at the Elephant as well, his expression blank and unreadable. Nini poked him in the ribs.
"Doesn't it bother you?" she asked. "She stole our ending!"
The Argentinean shrugged. "You know what they say. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da… life goes on."
"Defeatist," she snorted.
"We'll perform our dance," he replied firmly, as if he hadn't heard her. "One day. You'll see."
"Yeah. In the middle of the street to a bunch of drunk gentlemen."
"Perhaps."
Before Nini could reply, a beautifully manicured hand tapped the Argentinean on the shoulder. He turned and saw a pretty girl, wearing a grey dress and a little hat. She smiled flirtatiously.
"Can I cut in?" she asked, looking at Nini and smiling all the more widely.
"Sure," said Nini, draining the rest of the bottle she still clutched in her hands and throwing it down to the street below. Any lingering feelings she had once felt for the Argentinean had faded once she had understood what he was really like. He was a difficult person to know, an enigma wrapped in an enigma, which coupled with an accent to die for, a handsome face and body and natural rhythm and grace, was very attractive. But only for a while. He was a bohemian and therefore believed in love, and yet he scorned those who did fall in love. Nini had supposed that something had happened to him in Argentina, a love affair gone wrong or some other disaster. So he did what all Bohemians then did and left his problems behind, heading for the centre of the revolution.
She went back inside the party and shut her eyes, trying to pick out a rhythm in Satie's playing. The music filled her and twisted through her body, forcing it to move. Nini always found dancing extraordinarily tiring, because for that brief instant (and she didn't care how trite it sounded) she really was flying and it was always hard to come back to earth. Besides, it was the music that decided her movement, not her body and she often found herself moving in ways she could not usually. Occasionally she felt hands touch her, pass her about and she instinctively fell into them and let them guide her. She was content to know that they would direct her steps because they were also caught up in the music and the music would not let her fall.
Unfortunately, one of her 'partners' was so far gone on Absinthe that he was dancing to a completely different rhythm. He spun her too hard and she opened her eyes in surprise. She crashed into the back of a chair and fell over someone crouched on the floor. She looked up and saw Chocolat wearing a maroon feather boa leaning over her. His eyes were wide open and boring straight into hers. Without taking his gaze away from her, he picked up a small wooden box beside him and opened it, holding it out to her. Inside lay 5 beautifully thick cigars. Nini took one and put it in her mouth. He held out a match to her and then paused, looking her up and down. Just behind her head she could feel the void that was the hole in the floor and her legs were entangled in the chair she had crashed over and sticking up in the air. Chocolat regarded her gravely for a moment.
"Is this why they call you 'legs in the air'?"
Nini burst out into gales of laughter and after a moment so did Chocolat. He got up and pulled her legs free of the chair. She lay sprawled on the floor and he straddled her, laughing loudly. She twisted around to look down the hole and into the writer's room. She could see him, peering out of the window towards the Moulin Rouge.
"Alright darlin'?" she called. He ignored her. Or maybe he didn't hear her. Nini knew well enough what or who he was looking at. Only she could make men gawk like that. She said just that to Chocolat when he asked her what she was looking at. He cocked his head to one side.
"Are you jealous?" he asked, slurring his words slightly.
"A little," said Nini, sitting up cross-legged. "Not as much s you might think. I'm angry because she stole our," she pointed towards the Argentinean, "ending. Besides, the others are the same. I'm not much different." She gestured vaguely with the cigar towards Mome Fromage and Araby, dancing and throwing confetti over everybody.
"Besides, she's got to sleep with that Duke… wouldn't fancy that. And she's got to be exclusively his." She prodded Chocolat's chest for emphasis. "No more wild parties for darling Satine." He nodded and they both sat silently for a while, watching the party rage on. Somehow, drink found its way into their hands and Nini could hear herself laughing at nothing in particular.
One of the male performers twisted around the room, waving fans in everyone's faces. The Argentinean had a mock sword fight with the Doctor and ended up puncturing Toulouse's Swiss scenery. Toulouse became very cross and shouted at everyone to leave. He was placated by one of the Dogs. Nini laid her head on Chocolat's shoulder. Araby started singing to one of the tunes Satie was still pounding out.
What's the sense in sharing this one and only life?
Ending up just another lost and lonely wife.
You count up the years and they will be filled with tears.
There were catcalls and shouts of agreement from the crowd. Araby, flushed and laughing, climbed up one of the step ladders, pulling her skirt up to reveal her garter. Somebody wolf-whistled.
Love only breaks up to start over again.
You'll get the babies but you won't have your man.
She pointed at one of the Diamond Dogs who was rumoured to be pregnant. The Dog in question pouted and started shouting "she lies!" over the noise.
While he is busy loving, every woman that he can! Chorused the other Diamond Dogs. Araby spun around on the ladder, leaning dangerously back. Hands reached out to catch her if she fell. She pointed out the window towards the Moulin Rouge.
Said I wanna leave, a thousand time a day,
It's easier said than done, when you just can't break away!
Araby did fall backwards now but was caught by the Argentinean. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
Young hearts run free.
Never be hung up, hung up like my man and me!
Chocolat put his arm around Nini and kissed her clumsily on the cheek. She laughed and got up, pulling him with her.
"It's too hot in here," she said truthfully. He nodded.
"Let's go for a walk," he said taking her hand in his and leading her towards the door. They clattered down the stairs and spilled out onto the streets, giggling and waving at other late night revellers. The music from Toulouse's apartment poured out of the open windows and Nini shut her eyes, letting it fill her. Chocolat smiled indulgently and twirled her about, perfectly in time to the music. He guided her over the potholes in the road, past other people and up and down curbs. Finally, the music faded back into its previous discord and they stopped dancing. Nini let her head fall onto his shoulder and put her arms around his shoulders. He held her tightly to his chest. She eventually pulled away and studied his face.
"I like you," she said. "A lot."
He nodded. " I like you a lot too."
"Good," said Nini, wondering if this emotion she felt had sprung from her heart or the drunken swirl of her thoughts. It was odd, she decided because she never usually spoke to Chocolat that often. She knew him well enough to know that the reason he was called Chocolat was not because of his dark skin (although that probably had a hand in it) but because he ate such vast quantities of chocolate every day and that he always carried a pack of cigars around with him, although he hardly smoked. But there had never been anything there to suggest this happening.
He hesitated, then bent his head and kissed her. She made a faint noise against his lips and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He pulled away all too soon and smiled genuinely at her. She smiled back, feeling that this was the first time for a long time she had genuinely smiled at anyone.
"You don't taste like the cigar," he said. "I would have thought that you would."
She pulled the cigar out of her purse and wagged it in his face. "Never lit it."
"Ah," he said. She took his hand and led him silently into the Moulin Rouge's garden. As they passed the Elephant, they heard voices. Chocolat paused and looked up to the Elephant. Nini rolled her eyes but listened anyway. Low murmurings and laughter punctuated the garden's stillness.
"Who do you think is with her?" asked Chocolat.
"Maybe that writer. He seemed pretty eager." Chocolat shook his head.
"Nini, you are awful," he sighed.
"What? I'm speaking the truth. He liked her. Everyone does."
"I like her."
"You do?"
"Not like that. She's a nice person."
"I suppose," said Nini morosely. Chocolat glanced at her sad face. He thought for a moment and then picked her up in his arms. She shrieked in surprise and then laughed. He joined in and the air crackled with their laughter long after they had gone inside.
* * * * * * *
'Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da' is a Yiddish phrase I believe, that the Beatles used in (surprise surprise) 'Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da'.
'Young Hearts Run Free' – I don't know who did the original version but Kym Mazelle covered it for another great Baz Luhrmann film, 'Romeo + Juliet'.
'Chapter Two: The Morning After' will be up in the next few days.
Please r & r!