Christian and the Gypsy Queen
Disclaimer: I do not own any Moulin Rouge stuff including it's characters etc, they all belong to the person who owns them...obviously! THE POINT IS they don't belong to me and I'm not saying they belong to me, I'm just using them cos they're cool...yeah
Anyway! This story is set right after the movie so you'll have no trouble following on!
BROKEN CHAIR, BROKEN HEART
Silent in tears, Christian reached his garret. One hour had past since her death, the memory of her limp body being carried away was still fresh in his mind. He was so scared and so angry and so alone. Once he entered his apartment and slammed the door shut he gave free reign to his emotions. He trashed the place. Nothing was safe he showed no mercy. The world span with chaos as he threw chairs, emptied drawers, ripped sheets and hurtled them all out the window. Screaming at the top of his lungs, all the hurt inside him vocalized. He drew a deep and mournful breath, emotionally and physically exhausted he sank to the floor. He lay there numb in a dreamless sleep until morning came.
The sun rose the next day and morning drifted lazily by until noon came and Christian finally awoke. The winter sun warmed his face and for a moment he forgot all that had happened the night before. The feeling of contentment was healing his soul and he did something that he had never thought he would do again. He smiled. It was minutes before he realized he was on the floor and when he opened his eyes the memories flooded back to him. His heart sank a thousand miles south and he gulped down the choke in his throat. He lay there for an hour or two longer.
A rattling on the door made him leave his dusty sanctuary. He opened the door to a young boy. The boy looked like the thousands of others who roamed the streets of Paris, homeless and orphaned, they often combined to form pick-pocketing gangs. His scruffy features made him quite endearing, and despite himself Christian looked down kindly on him.
"Are you Mr. Christian James?" the boy asked in a confident voice.
"Yes, yes I am" Christian answered, looking closer at the boy. Something about him was familiar. Could he be imagining it? Why he looked just like...Sa
Samuel! Christians cousin, and good friend as a child! But enough about that let's get back to the story! (Lol even authors like to have their fun ()
"Well then," said the boy, " this must be for you" he handed Christian the days newspaper. "But I don't have a subscription." Christian said puzzled. "Errr.This is a one time offer! Um all for the low, low price of three francs!" the boy smiled and held out his hand. Christian looked at him suspiciously; fully aware that the cost of the newspaper was only one franc, but he paid him all the same. After all Christian knew what it was to be poor. The boy smiled up at him and though the time for him to leave had past he stood there as if waiting for something.
"Are you quite alright?" Christian asked him after a long pause. The boy beckoned him to draw closer. " I've got some information, I think'll be of value to you" he whispered.
"Well, go on then," said Christian not particulerly interested, but he played along, anything that would distract him from his life was more then welcome at the moment. Then boy looked at him sideways and grinned.
"It'll cost you," he said, watching him expectantly. Christian grumbled, and felt around in his pockets retrieving yet anther franc.
"Okay," the boy whispered. " Page 25, left column, Saturday in Roman-E-a, spelt with an E." And with that he ran down the passageway at full speed, leaving Christian feeling bewildered and frankly a little cheated. Too tired to chase him down Christian retired into his garret once more, slumped down into a corner (the remainders of his only chair were strewn across the street below) and turned to page 25.
It was a personal ad page. Similar to ones he used to read as a boy for fun, and prank-call lonely singletons as a joke (No! the Diamonte-saber has never done that!). He looked to the left column where highlighted in pink marker pen was a small ad, it read:
Gypsy Queen
Romania the light of delights, where dreams come true it's here for you, only one can come this way. Join me here on Saturday in RomanEa. Follow the boy... Love Always Scarlet Gypsy
Christian studied the ad. What did that last sentence say? Follow the boy??? The boy!? Oh no! he was long gone! Christian rushed to the window, the boy was leaning up against the lamp-post down below whistling a tune...he knew that tune! It was Satine's sad song "fly away"! He ran out of the apartment grabbing what money and valuables he had. He hurtled down the stairs nearly stacking it but managing to keep his balance. He went out onto the street only to find that the boy had disapeared...!
Could it be? Is Satine the ghost contacting our hero from beyond the grave? Or is this all just some cruel joke to send Christian further down the path of insanity??? Find out next week in: Christian and the Gypsy Queen part 2!
A/N I know there are a lot of problems with this story, era-wise. I Do KNOW that it is not very likely that subscriptions, and prank-calls, and marker pens existed in that era, but no one said these things had to be historically correct! Hope y'all review now y'hear?
Disclaimer: I do not own any Moulin Rouge stuff including it's characters etc, they all belong to the person who owns them...obviously! THE POINT IS they don't belong to me and I'm not saying they belong to me, I'm just using them cos they're cool...yeah
Anyway! This story is set right after the movie so you'll have no trouble following on!
BROKEN CHAIR, BROKEN HEART
Silent in tears, Christian reached his garret. One hour had past since her death, the memory of her limp body being carried away was still fresh in his mind. He was so scared and so angry and so alone. Once he entered his apartment and slammed the door shut he gave free reign to his emotions. He trashed the place. Nothing was safe he showed no mercy. The world span with chaos as he threw chairs, emptied drawers, ripped sheets and hurtled them all out the window. Screaming at the top of his lungs, all the hurt inside him vocalized. He drew a deep and mournful breath, emotionally and physically exhausted he sank to the floor. He lay there numb in a dreamless sleep until morning came.
The sun rose the next day and morning drifted lazily by until noon came and Christian finally awoke. The winter sun warmed his face and for a moment he forgot all that had happened the night before. The feeling of contentment was healing his soul and he did something that he had never thought he would do again. He smiled. It was minutes before he realized he was on the floor and when he opened his eyes the memories flooded back to him. His heart sank a thousand miles south and he gulped down the choke in his throat. He lay there for an hour or two longer.
A rattling on the door made him leave his dusty sanctuary. He opened the door to a young boy. The boy looked like the thousands of others who roamed the streets of Paris, homeless and orphaned, they often combined to form pick-pocketing gangs. His scruffy features made him quite endearing, and despite himself Christian looked down kindly on him.
"Are you Mr. Christian James?" the boy asked in a confident voice.
"Yes, yes I am" Christian answered, looking closer at the boy. Something about him was familiar. Could he be imagining it? Why he looked just like...Sa
Samuel! Christians cousin, and good friend as a child! But enough about that let's get back to the story! (Lol even authors like to have their fun ()
"Well then," said the boy, " this must be for you" he handed Christian the days newspaper. "But I don't have a subscription." Christian said puzzled. "Errr.This is a one time offer! Um all for the low, low price of three francs!" the boy smiled and held out his hand. Christian looked at him suspiciously; fully aware that the cost of the newspaper was only one franc, but he paid him all the same. After all Christian knew what it was to be poor. The boy smiled up at him and though the time for him to leave had past he stood there as if waiting for something.
"Are you quite alright?" Christian asked him after a long pause. The boy beckoned him to draw closer. " I've got some information, I think'll be of value to you" he whispered.
"Well, go on then," said Christian not particulerly interested, but he played along, anything that would distract him from his life was more then welcome at the moment. Then boy looked at him sideways and grinned.
"It'll cost you," he said, watching him expectantly. Christian grumbled, and felt around in his pockets retrieving yet anther franc.
"Okay," the boy whispered. " Page 25, left column, Saturday in Roman-E-a, spelt with an E." And with that he ran down the passageway at full speed, leaving Christian feeling bewildered and frankly a little cheated. Too tired to chase him down Christian retired into his garret once more, slumped down into a corner (the remainders of his only chair were strewn across the street below) and turned to page 25.
It was a personal ad page. Similar to ones he used to read as a boy for fun, and prank-call lonely singletons as a joke (No! the Diamonte-saber has never done that!). He looked to the left column where highlighted in pink marker pen was a small ad, it read:
Gypsy Queen
Romania the light of delights, where dreams come true it's here for you, only one can come this way. Join me here on Saturday in RomanEa. Follow the boy... Love Always Scarlet Gypsy
Christian studied the ad. What did that last sentence say? Follow the boy??? The boy!? Oh no! he was long gone! Christian rushed to the window, the boy was leaning up against the lamp-post down below whistling a tune...he knew that tune! It was Satine's sad song "fly away"! He ran out of the apartment grabbing what money and valuables he had. He hurtled down the stairs nearly stacking it but managing to keep his balance. He went out onto the street only to find that the boy had disapeared...!
Could it be? Is Satine the ghost contacting our hero from beyond the grave? Or is this all just some cruel joke to send Christian further down the path of insanity??? Find out next week in: Christian and the Gypsy Queen part 2!
A/N I know there are a lot of problems with this story, era-wise. I Do KNOW that it is not very likely that subscriptions, and prank-calls, and marker pens existed in that era, but no one said these things had to be historically correct! Hope y'all review now y'hear?