A/N: I'm recovering from a slight obsession phase with Moulin Rouge. The various ideas wizzing through my tiny brain haven't been very good so far though, and I don't want to steal anyone's work, so I'm trying to find something that isn't too similar to anyone I've read. Here goes! This is written as a diary entry... kind of.
I don't know why I'm writing this. I really don't. Ugh.
Right, so my name's Casey. Just Casey. C-a-s-e-y.
Some people say I'm stuck up. Bitchy. Mean.
Tell someone who cares! I am who I am, right? Get over it.
I couldn't give a damn what other people think of me. Just because I say what I think does not make me a bitch.
Does it?
Well, either way, I couldn't care less.
I'm one of Harold Zidler's 'Diamond Dogs', as he calls us. I don't know why. It's a bit naff, in my opinion.
And, yeah, I sleep with guys. But only because I get money out of it.
Oh, God, that sounds really bad doesn't it?
But I need to make a living. And this is certainly easier than begging on the street. Warmer too.
I started working here, oh, six months ago?
How time flies. I've made one heck of a reputation for myself, that's for sure.
Alll of the girls know me. They know to stay away. They know that I don't do niceties. I mean, yeah, sometimes I let Diana (that's Dee-anna, by the way) and Primrose hang aroung me, but only because even I'm not that nasty. I take one look at their bright, happy faces and don't have the heart to turn them away. They're so... so... sweet.
Like little puppies, desperate to be petted and praised.
They love it here. It's the best thing that's ever happened to them, I think. They adore dancing every night and getting whispered compliments from the various men that approach them.
I always feel uncomfortable if I see them going off with one. I don't know why; maybe because they seem to look up to me. I feel like a mother or sister figure now. Like I should protect them somehow.
Urgh! Not what I want.
My life is bad enough without having other people to deal with. That's why I stick to myself - the more people in your life, the more responsibility.
I don't do well with responsibility.
Satine is the only one who doesn't keep her distance.
She insists upon talking to me. Her reasons are beyond me; I don't radiate friendly cheeriness.
But so what if some stuck-up, albeit gorgeous, 'Sparkling Diamond' - supposedly the top Diamond Dog - wanted to talk to me?
I'm me.
I suppose it's almost time for us to go out. Please the gentlemen. Quench their thirst. I'll just get ready.
Stockings... suspenders... Damn, where is my headpiece? Oh, some of the girls must have moved it... Right, make-up; blusher, eyeshadow, lipstick...
Primrose has just sidled up to me and reminded me that we're on in two minutes. I need to find something to put in my hair! Ugggghhh...
Oh, that'll have to do.
A peacock feather, bright and showy. No-one will miss me tonight, not with this thing sticking up in the air above my head.
Five... four... three... two... one...
"ENTERTAIN US!"
The night had begun.
A/N: Review please!