A/N: Hiya guys. I wrote this entire story before I posted any of it, and it's actually only the end that I really care about. So if you think it starts out as just a typical "Satine didn't die, she finds Christian later, he's mad at her" fic, please please please read to the last chapter because I hope my idea there is unique! (I am not trying to rip off other people's stories, this idea has just been floating around in my head for awhile and I had to have a way to arrive at it). Reviews are brilliant (fun word), I really love them. And also, I will be doing a whole bunch of disclaimers at the end of the whole story, so the stuff that is quoted in this and following chapters is not mine and blah blah blah…wait till the last chapter if you really care.
Chapter One: Affairs of the Heart
The storm raged through the night in Paris, tearing apart the Summer of Love. Lights flickered on and off through Monmartre as people finally gave into the darkness and went to sleep. However, one lonely figure sat staring out into the rainfall and the moonlight.
A tear streaked down Satine's face as she heard Christian scream her name and be beaten to the ground by the door guards. He lay on the street, soaking wet and bruised, but she could not go to him. For so many reasons, she could not rush to him and tell him she was sorry and would love him until the end of time, but for so many reasons, she wanted to.
"We all lead such elaborate lives, wild ambitions in our sights. How an affair of the heart survives, days apart and troubled nights…"
Satine stepped away from the window she could not bear to watch him suffer anymore.
"Seems quite unbelievable to me, I don't want to live like that…"
She ran a hand over a draft of "Spectacular, Spectacular", tears coursing freely down her face now. Next to it lay the diamond necklace the Duke had given her. She looked at it in disgust.
"Seems quite unbelievable to me, I don't want to love like that. I just want our time to be slower and gentler, wiser and free."
Satine knew of the dangers to both herself and Christian if she saw him again. She had to stay away from him. But staying away from the only person she cared for was very hard to do. Drying her face, she left for opening night.
~
Christian lay unmoving on the bed where the doctor had placed him, staring into nothingness, and turning his back on the world. Deep inside him, an unnamable anger was building up.
All they had said, all they had done, had been a lie. Just a game. Satine was a great actress, and had merely used him for practice. He reached for the broken absinthe bottle, falling deeper and deeper into despair. Horrible thoughts ran through his head.
"I gave you my music, made your song take wing…and now, how you've repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…"
Christian thought of the Duke, knowing now that Satine had left him because he could not offer her a lifetime of luxury and money. Apparently a lifetime of love was not good enough.
"He was bound to love you, when first he head you sing…"
Christian suddenly violently jumped up. The pain was too much. This was his show, why shouldn't he see it? And a hidden part of him hat he tried to shut out wanted to see Satine one last time.
He ran to the Moulin Rouge, screaming in the dark night,
"You will curse the things that now you do! No longer will I say that I love you…"
~
Satine nervously reapplied her makeup and tried to accept the fact that she could not see Christian again. Memories flooded through her head while she prepared to go on stage - "I can't believe it, I'm in love…We could be heroes…You'll come, tonight?…Come what may…The truth is, I am the Hindu courtesan, and I choose the maharajah."
That last one stung the most. They had shared the perfect love. But nothing perfect can last…a single tear fell down Satine's face.
Just as she was about to go onstage, Satine heard a familiar, yet strangely distant voice behind her - "I've come to pay my bill."
She tried to brush him away, and not face the pain. "You shouldn't be here Christian, just go."
Satine then attempted to run past him, but his grip on her shoulders was too strong. She gasped when she was Warner pointing a gun at him. No, this isn't happening, she hoped and prayed.
"Please Christian…just go…"
"If it wasn't real, then why can't I pay you? Let me pay! Let me pay!," he screamed in her face. Christian wondered somewhere in the back of his mind why she was crying if she didn't care. But he was consumed by jealousy. It was driving him mad.
As she tried to pull away, he screamed out of rage, "Tell me it wasn't real! Tell me you don't love me!"
Christian ignored Satine's pleas and nearly dragged her onstage, where he threw her down. Zidler chose to play off this. Suddenly, Satine hated the audience. Hated them for being so naïve as to think this was all just a fairytale. She wished it was.
As she lay there, crying and broken on the stage, she did not hear one word Christian said, except, "I owe you nothing, and you are nothing to me." A statement that would remain heavy in her heart for a long time.
Christian slowly walked away from the only love he had ever known, trying to convince himself he didn't care. He stopped only to pause at the Duke, with a look that said, "You've won."
Satine knew she had to stop him. She could not let something this wonderful slip through her fingers. She began to sing quietly, between her cries,
"Never knew I could feel like this, it's like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss, everyday I'm loving you more, and more. Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings, come back to me and forgive everything! Seasons may change, winter to spring…"
Christian had paused by the door. There was complete silence in the theatre, as Satine whispered, "I love you…until the end of time."
A nasty little voice ran through Christian's head. *She doesn't love you, it's all an act, a lie. She's using you in her little game.* In front of the door, Christian slowly turned and sang quietly,
"You alone can make my song take flight…It's over now, the music of the night."
A stunned audience sat very still as the sound of a slamming door echoed through the Moulin Rouge. The penniless sitar player was cured of his ridiculous obsession with love.
~
*5 Years Later, Village Near London
Satine ate a hurried breakfast. She was almost late.
"Your audition is in 5 minutes! Hurry, girl!" called Marie from upstairs.
Satine's stomach fluttered. She had never been able to land a real acting job. She really needed this.
Marie grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door. "You cannot be late for this! It is the Royal Court Acting Troupe, Satine!"
"Remember, to everyone else I'm Sara, OK?"
Marie nodded. "You know, it still seems foolish to hide your true identity. I mean, why would anyone care?"
They were sitting in the carriage now. The air was cold, and snow fluttered slowly to the ground. Satine pulled her white fur coat tighter around her.
"I care, Marie. I want to forget my past life, I've told you over and over. There are certain…choices and feelings that no one would want to dwell on again."
Eventually the carriage pulled up to a very old and worn-down acting studio. Satine had no idea what she was auditioning for, but she bravely walked in to give whatever it was a shot.
As she emerged into a huge warehouse-type room with hundreds of aspiring actors and actresses milling around, she was immediately greeted by a short bald man with a heavy Scottish accent.
"Bonjour, Miss." he said. Oh really, thought Satine, only the French can speak it properly.
The man continued. "I am Evan, the casting director and general manager. And you are?"
"Sara…James." The last name was still hard for her to speak.
"Oh, right. Well you're actually first on our list Miss James, but I need to ask you just a few questions first. What previous experience have you had?"
Satine knew she had to be careful here. The words "Moulin Rouge" were a deathtrap. "Umm…just some local productions back in Paris."
"Ahh, so you're from Paris," he nodded knowingly. He had probably guessed. "How long have you been here?"
"About five years now." Actually, Satine had counted the days.
"Can you sing?"
She nodded. "No formal training, but I have sung in performances."
Evan nodded. "Well, let's get you started. Here's your script. Cal, get over here!"
A taller man with short black hair and a white tuxedo with sequins came over. Evan raised an eyebrow.
"Just getting into character," Cal grinned.
Evan turned to Satine. "In this scene, you're both hurt, because you had true love and now it's gone. Umm, let's see, oh yeah, Miss James, you still love him, but for complicated reasons you can't tell him, K? And…action!"
Cal ran stage left, shouting, "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!"
Satine felt sick while looking down at the script in horror. "Sitar player leaves the kingdom," she read to herself. No, she had to do this. She needed this job. But she just couldn't do what the script said. That was not how the story should have ended. She slowly dropped the script to the floor and began to sing familiar words.
The room was in silence, as no one had expected what she did. Evan started clapping. "Bravo, maybe we can take some poetic license and put that in the show. That is, if our writer here agrees?" He nudged the man to his left.
Satine felt that she would faint as the ghost from her past slowly rose. "No," Christian said, keeping his voice calm. "The story ends the way I wrote it. The courtesan hurts the sitar player. The perfect couple is destroyed, and he leaves forever."
Chapter One: Affairs of the Heart
The storm raged through the night in Paris, tearing apart the Summer of Love. Lights flickered on and off through Monmartre as people finally gave into the darkness and went to sleep. However, one lonely figure sat staring out into the rainfall and the moonlight.
A tear streaked down Satine's face as she heard Christian scream her name and be beaten to the ground by the door guards. He lay on the street, soaking wet and bruised, but she could not go to him. For so many reasons, she could not rush to him and tell him she was sorry and would love him until the end of time, but for so many reasons, she wanted to.
"We all lead such elaborate lives, wild ambitions in our sights. How an affair of the heart survives, days apart and troubled nights…"
Satine stepped away from the window she could not bear to watch him suffer anymore.
"Seems quite unbelievable to me, I don't want to live like that…"
She ran a hand over a draft of "Spectacular, Spectacular", tears coursing freely down her face now. Next to it lay the diamond necklace the Duke had given her. She looked at it in disgust.
"Seems quite unbelievable to me, I don't want to love like that. I just want our time to be slower and gentler, wiser and free."
Satine knew of the dangers to both herself and Christian if she saw him again. She had to stay away from him. But staying away from the only person she cared for was very hard to do. Drying her face, she left for opening night.
~
Christian lay unmoving on the bed where the doctor had placed him, staring into nothingness, and turning his back on the world. Deep inside him, an unnamable anger was building up.
All they had said, all they had done, had been a lie. Just a game. Satine was a great actress, and had merely used him for practice. He reached for the broken absinthe bottle, falling deeper and deeper into despair. Horrible thoughts ran through his head.
"I gave you my music, made your song take wing…and now, how you've repaid me, denied me and betrayed me…"
Christian thought of the Duke, knowing now that Satine had left him because he could not offer her a lifetime of luxury and money. Apparently a lifetime of love was not good enough.
"He was bound to love you, when first he head you sing…"
Christian suddenly violently jumped up. The pain was too much. This was his show, why shouldn't he see it? And a hidden part of him hat he tried to shut out wanted to see Satine one last time.
He ran to the Moulin Rouge, screaming in the dark night,
"You will curse the things that now you do! No longer will I say that I love you…"
~
Satine nervously reapplied her makeup and tried to accept the fact that she could not see Christian again. Memories flooded through her head while she prepared to go on stage - "I can't believe it, I'm in love…We could be heroes…You'll come, tonight?…Come what may…The truth is, I am the Hindu courtesan, and I choose the maharajah."
That last one stung the most. They had shared the perfect love. But nothing perfect can last…a single tear fell down Satine's face.
Just as she was about to go onstage, Satine heard a familiar, yet strangely distant voice behind her - "I've come to pay my bill."
She tried to brush him away, and not face the pain. "You shouldn't be here Christian, just go."
Satine then attempted to run past him, but his grip on her shoulders was too strong. She gasped when she was Warner pointing a gun at him. No, this isn't happening, she hoped and prayed.
"Please Christian…just go…"
"If it wasn't real, then why can't I pay you? Let me pay! Let me pay!," he screamed in her face. Christian wondered somewhere in the back of his mind why she was crying if she didn't care. But he was consumed by jealousy. It was driving him mad.
As she tried to pull away, he screamed out of rage, "Tell me it wasn't real! Tell me you don't love me!"
Christian ignored Satine's pleas and nearly dragged her onstage, where he threw her down. Zidler chose to play off this. Suddenly, Satine hated the audience. Hated them for being so naïve as to think this was all just a fairytale. She wished it was.
As she lay there, crying and broken on the stage, she did not hear one word Christian said, except, "I owe you nothing, and you are nothing to me." A statement that would remain heavy in her heart for a long time.
Christian slowly walked away from the only love he had ever known, trying to convince himself he didn't care. He stopped only to pause at the Duke, with a look that said, "You've won."
Satine knew she had to stop him. She could not let something this wonderful slip through her fingers. She began to sing quietly, between her cries,
"Never knew I could feel like this, it's like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss, everyday I'm loving you more, and more. Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings, come back to me and forgive everything! Seasons may change, winter to spring…"
Christian had paused by the door. There was complete silence in the theatre, as Satine whispered, "I love you…until the end of time."
A nasty little voice ran through Christian's head. *She doesn't love you, it's all an act, a lie. She's using you in her little game.* In front of the door, Christian slowly turned and sang quietly,
"You alone can make my song take flight…It's over now, the music of the night."
A stunned audience sat very still as the sound of a slamming door echoed through the Moulin Rouge. The penniless sitar player was cured of his ridiculous obsession with love.
~
*5 Years Later, Village Near London
Satine ate a hurried breakfast. She was almost late.
"Your audition is in 5 minutes! Hurry, girl!" called Marie from upstairs.
Satine's stomach fluttered. She had never been able to land a real acting job. She really needed this.
Marie grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door. "You cannot be late for this! It is the Royal Court Acting Troupe, Satine!"
"Remember, to everyone else I'm Sara, OK?"
Marie nodded. "You know, it still seems foolish to hide your true identity. I mean, why would anyone care?"
They were sitting in the carriage now. The air was cold, and snow fluttered slowly to the ground. Satine pulled her white fur coat tighter around her.
"I care, Marie. I want to forget my past life, I've told you over and over. There are certain…choices and feelings that no one would want to dwell on again."
Eventually the carriage pulled up to a very old and worn-down acting studio. Satine had no idea what she was auditioning for, but she bravely walked in to give whatever it was a shot.
As she emerged into a huge warehouse-type room with hundreds of aspiring actors and actresses milling around, she was immediately greeted by a short bald man with a heavy Scottish accent.
"Bonjour, Miss." he said. Oh really, thought Satine, only the French can speak it properly.
The man continued. "I am Evan, the casting director and general manager. And you are?"
"Sara…James." The last name was still hard for her to speak.
"Oh, right. Well you're actually first on our list Miss James, but I need to ask you just a few questions first. What previous experience have you had?"
Satine knew she had to be careful here. The words "Moulin Rouge" were a deathtrap. "Umm…just some local productions back in Paris."
"Ahh, so you're from Paris," he nodded knowingly. He had probably guessed. "How long have you been here?"
"About five years now." Actually, Satine had counted the days.
"Can you sing?"
She nodded. "No formal training, but I have sung in performances."
Evan nodded. "Well, let's get you started. Here's your script. Cal, get over here!"
A taller man with short black hair and a white tuxedo with sequins came over. Evan raised an eyebrow.
"Just getting into character," Cal grinned.
Evan turned to Satine. "In this scene, you're both hurt, because you had true love and now it's gone. Umm, let's see, oh yeah, Miss James, you still love him, but for complicated reasons you can't tell him, K? And…action!"
Cal ran stage left, shouting, "Thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession with love!"
Satine felt sick while looking down at the script in horror. "Sitar player leaves the kingdom," she read to herself. No, she had to do this. She needed this job. But she just couldn't do what the script said. That was not how the story should have ended. She slowly dropped the script to the floor and began to sing familiar words.
The room was in silence, as no one had expected what she did. Evan started clapping. "Bravo, maybe we can take some poetic license and put that in the show. That is, if our writer here agrees?" He nudged the man to his left.
Satine felt that she would faint as the ghost from her past slowly rose. "No," Christian said, keeping his voice calm. "The story ends the way I wrote it. The courtesan hurts the sitar player. The perfect couple is destroyed, and he leaves forever."