Disclaimer: Me no ownie anyone or anything cept for Chloe....although....if I owned Christian.....woooooo boy!!!! *tries to get her mind out of the gutter....but fails* Uh.....erm......anywho...here goes...this is my first MR fic, so please no flames :)

Paris-1901

Christian rolled over in his bed and groaned as the sun's bright light hit him in the face. Shouldn't have had all that absinthe last night, he thought, placing his feet on the floor and rubbing his face. Christ, he had a hangover. One of the worst since...well, ever. He dragged himself out of bed, and walked to the window. Today they were tearing down the Moulin Rouge, and Christian felt as if he needed to bathe in the sight of the elephant and the windmill just once more. A tear ran down his cheek as he looked out the window. His memories of truth, beauty, freedom, and love were going to fall down along with the windmill. He realized he couldn't stay in his apartment. Not today. He had to get out.

After a shower and a shave, he changed into some clothes and walked down the streets of Monamarte. He didn't really have a destination, he just wanted to walk. Day after day of sitting in his small apartment completing Satine's story had consumed him. He couldn't remember the last time he had been out. He took it all in. The sights, the sounds, and the smells. One smell in particular hit him. The smell of food. He realized how hungry he was. He saw a restaurant on his right and figured he could spare enough money to eat there. After all, he thought with a chuckle, walking into the restaurant, they say you haven't lived until you've eaten food soaked in grease. As he sat in his corner booth, he lit a cigarette, another bad habit he had acquired in his years since Satine. As he felt the smooth smoke go down his lungs, a voice broke into his head.

"What can I get for you, Monsieur?"

He looked up and saw a young woman waiting to take his order. As Christian looked at her, he noticed she was very familiar looking. She was tall and slender, with dark green eyes and long wavy brown hair with streaks of gold in it. Then it hit him. He knew her from the Moulin Rouge. Her name was Chloe, and she was one of Satine's closest friends.

"C-Chloe?" he asked, his hands shaking violently.

She looked into his eyes for the first time and almost dropped the piece of paper she was using to take his order. "Oh my God.....Christian..." she said, tears coming into her eyes. She began to speak. "What are-"

"How did-" Christian began at the same time. He looked into her eyes and they began laughing.

Chloe opened her mouth to say something, when a voice came from behind her.

"HEY LADY! CAN WE GET OUR FOOD TODAY?!?!?"

She looked at Christian apologetically. "Listen, I get off in about a half an hour, if you want to just wait for me, and then we can talk a little more."

Christian smiled. "That'd be fine," he said.

"Ok, then," Chloe said, hurrying over to the men screaming for their food.

As Christian watched her walk away, he took another drag on his cigarette and closed his eyes. How long had it been since he had seen Chloe? Maybe about a month after Satine's death, then she had disappeared. He had been worried about her, other than Satine, she was the only warmth he had ever felt in the Moulin Rouge. She had been the one who stayed with him after Satine's death, the one who comforted him when Zidler refused to reveal where they had buried Satine. She had been his sanity, and then she just vanished one day. Christian had worried about her, and neither Zidler or Marie had been much help in telling him where she was. After a while though, he had forgotten about her. Satine had been the one thing in his mind.

"Christian? Are you ready?" Chloe's voice brought him back to reality with a snap. He looked at his cigarette which was nothing but ashes. Curse of the writer, he thought. Getting so caught up in your thoughts, time just flies by.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm ready" he said, getting up and walking out the door.