Disclaimer: It all belongs to Baz. All By Myself belongs to......well, whoever wrote it I guess.
A/N: It seems that when I'm at my most creative, the rest of my life seems to be a little messed up. Last night I wrote 'Come Fly With Me', tonight I write this. I'm on a bit of a roll here, methinks! Anyway, do review. I have other fics in mind, nothing major at the moment, but who knows what the future holds?
All by Myself
"........but above all things, this story is about love. A love that will live forever."
Christian sighed raggedly, closing the book and leaning back in his chair. He managed a sad smile for the group of children seated at his feet.
"Merci, enfants. I hope you have enjoyed my story. If you would wish to leave a franc or two for this penniless poet, please drop it in the hat, thankyou."
One by one, the children left, some dropping coins into his hat. When they'd all gone, Christian finally rose from his chair, collected the money into his small bag and began the five-minute walk that would take him back to his garret.
As he walked, he took in the everyday scenes of Montmartre on a late, mild Spring afternoon. The Sun was starting to creep towards the horizon, and the children in the streets almost seemed to be following it, towards their homes and to relative safety. The creatures of the night were not out just yet.
Turning a corner, Christian happened upon a couple sitting on the side of the street together. The man, dark-haired and youthful, was comforting a woman, with dark red hair and eyes full of tears. Christian could barely hear the whispered endearments and reassurances.
"When I was young," he sang softly as he passed the couple. "I never needed anyone.......and making love was just for fun. Those days are gone."
He looked up the road, seeing his garret and the now-familiar L'amour Fou sign. Crazy love indeed. It had once been a place filled with bohemian spirit and laughter. Now, it was quiet. Toulouse had passed away many years before and the other bohos had gone away. The only one Christian knew had survived was Satie, now a famous composer in Paris and an occasional visitor to his old friend and collaborator.
"Living alone, I think of all the friends I've known......but when I dial the telephone, nobody's home." he sighed sadly, climbing the stairs slowly.
"All by myself," he sang, unlocking the door to his room and entering. "Don't wanna live, all by myself, anymore."
Since his book 'Love at the Moulin Rouge' had been published, Christian had cleaned up his act. Toulouse's paintings hung around his walls, one of Satine gracing the wall near the window out of which the L'amour sign was visible.
"Hard to be sure......sometimes I feel so insecure. And love so distant and obscure, remains the cure." he murmured, glancing at the painting, then at the pink sunset outside before climbing up the ladder through the hole into what was now his bedroom.
Faint signs of the previous occupants remained, such as splashes of paint on the walls, the broken record player with it's tango record lying covered in dust, and the fizzled out firecrackers. Christian seated himself at the piano in the room. Large, shiny, and with ivory keys, it was Satie's gift to Christian and the poet made a point of using it whenever he could.
He played the soft solo that had Satie had taught him, and immersed himself in the gentle sounds, seeking comfort and solace in it. This whole garret was his final link to the life he'd previously left, and though many times he'd considered leaving, he could never bring himself to do it. This place was just too special to him.
"All by myself," he sang again. "don't wanna live, all by myself, anymore......"
As he finished the song, he could hear footsteps downstairs.
"Christian? Could you let me in?"
Christian scrambled down the ladder, opened the door and smiled relievedly. There she was!
He welcomed her into his arms, kissing her as if he'd seen her after a decade's absence.
"I've missed you so, Satine."
"It's been two hours since you last saw me, mon amour." she said, raising an eyebrow at him and removing her hat and coat. "Did your book reading go well?"
"Yes, yes.......forgive me for wanting to see you at the end of the day, would you?" he asked, smiling and slipping an arm around her waist as they stood at the window together, watching the sunset.
And as they did, Christian silently thanked whoever was watching over him for not leaving him all by himself.
~*The End*~
A/N: It seems that when I'm at my most creative, the rest of my life seems to be a little messed up. Last night I wrote 'Come Fly With Me', tonight I write this. I'm on a bit of a roll here, methinks! Anyway, do review. I have other fics in mind, nothing major at the moment, but who knows what the future holds?
All by Myself
"........but above all things, this story is about love. A love that will live forever."
Christian sighed raggedly, closing the book and leaning back in his chair. He managed a sad smile for the group of children seated at his feet.
"Merci, enfants. I hope you have enjoyed my story. If you would wish to leave a franc or two for this penniless poet, please drop it in the hat, thankyou."
One by one, the children left, some dropping coins into his hat. When they'd all gone, Christian finally rose from his chair, collected the money into his small bag and began the five-minute walk that would take him back to his garret.
As he walked, he took in the everyday scenes of Montmartre on a late, mild Spring afternoon. The Sun was starting to creep towards the horizon, and the children in the streets almost seemed to be following it, towards their homes and to relative safety. The creatures of the night were not out just yet.
Turning a corner, Christian happened upon a couple sitting on the side of the street together. The man, dark-haired and youthful, was comforting a woman, with dark red hair and eyes full of tears. Christian could barely hear the whispered endearments and reassurances.
"When I was young," he sang softly as he passed the couple. "I never needed anyone.......and making love was just for fun. Those days are gone."
He looked up the road, seeing his garret and the now-familiar L'amour Fou sign. Crazy love indeed. It had once been a place filled with bohemian spirit and laughter. Now, it was quiet. Toulouse had passed away many years before and the other bohos had gone away. The only one Christian knew had survived was Satie, now a famous composer in Paris and an occasional visitor to his old friend and collaborator.
"Living alone, I think of all the friends I've known......but when I dial the telephone, nobody's home." he sighed sadly, climbing the stairs slowly.
"All by myself," he sang, unlocking the door to his room and entering. "Don't wanna live, all by myself, anymore."
Since his book 'Love at the Moulin Rouge' had been published, Christian had cleaned up his act. Toulouse's paintings hung around his walls, one of Satine gracing the wall near the window out of which the L'amour sign was visible.
"Hard to be sure......sometimes I feel so insecure. And love so distant and obscure, remains the cure." he murmured, glancing at the painting, then at the pink sunset outside before climbing up the ladder through the hole into what was now his bedroom.
Faint signs of the previous occupants remained, such as splashes of paint on the walls, the broken record player with it's tango record lying covered in dust, and the fizzled out firecrackers. Christian seated himself at the piano in the room. Large, shiny, and with ivory keys, it was Satie's gift to Christian and the poet made a point of using it whenever he could.
He played the soft solo that had Satie had taught him, and immersed himself in the gentle sounds, seeking comfort and solace in it. This whole garret was his final link to the life he'd previously left, and though many times he'd considered leaving, he could never bring himself to do it. This place was just too special to him.
"All by myself," he sang again. "don't wanna live, all by myself, anymore......"
As he finished the song, he could hear footsteps downstairs.
"Christian? Could you let me in?"
Christian scrambled down the ladder, opened the door and smiled relievedly. There she was!
He welcomed her into his arms, kissing her as if he'd seen her after a decade's absence.
"I've missed you so, Satine."
"It's been two hours since you last saw me, mon amour." she said, raising an eyebrow at him and removing her hat and coat. "Did your book reading go well?"
"Yes, yes.......forgive me for wanting to see you at the end of the day, would you?" he asked, smiling and slipping an arm around her waist as they stood at the window together, watching the sunset.
And as they did, Christian silently thanked whoever was watching over him for not leaving him all by himself.
~*The End*~