'Junior Year'
By Anne Parkington
~Disclaimer: I don't own Moulin Rouge. Baz does, that brilliant Baztard. . .
Dedicated to: Kristen. . . cuz I can if I wanna!
It's modern times and the Moulin Rouge people all go to the same highschool. It's their Junior year and prom is right around the corner. Will Christian land the date of his dreams, even if she's forced to go with someone else?
Day One
Christian ran into his English class 15 minutes late. He slipped on the puddle of water he dripped off his sopping clothes and landed on his back. The whole class burst into fits of hysteria while Mrs. Wickbone, the crumply old horn-beast teacher glared. He stood up and pushed his glasses back into place.
"Looks like Mr. James thinks he's better than every one else and can come to class when he feels like it." She grumbled. Christian blushed.
"Actually, my car broke down, and it's raining, and. . . " He knew she wasn't taking excuses, "I ran as fast as I could ma'am!" He explained.
She shot him her white hot glare of death.
"Since you felt you were far superior to the rest of us," She croaked, "You can read us a passage from your paper."
As Christian sat down, his heart sank. What paper?!
"Assuming you HAVE it of course." Her eyes glittered as she sneered at her least favorite student.
"Uh. . ." Christian stuttered.
"The creative writing assignment I handed out 2 months ago?" She growled, her tongue thick and dry behind her teeth.
Christian sighed with relief. He had finished that one AGES ago!! He pulled it out of his backpack and beamed triumphantly.
"Read it." Mrs. Wickbone snapped. His face fell; speaking in front of the calss wasn't his strong point, and she knew it.
"I'd prefer-"
"Read it now or you'll have Saturday detention with me." She snarled, her eyes blazing.
As if someone had poked his bottom with a thumbtack, he jumped from his chair and scrambled to the front of the room, still slipping on his wet shoes. He stared wide-eyed at the class, clutching his paper. Mrs. Wickbone chuckled cruelly to herself.
"Th-th-the story. . i-is about love." Christian started, sweat pouring off his forehead and dripping down his nose, making his glasses slip again.
"Love?" A voice droned from the corner. Christian looked up to see who had spoken.
It was Weavling, the duke's son. He kind of looked like a weasel with reddish blondish hair and mud brown eyes. He had a permanent sneer and could taunt people by just looking at them.
Christian didn't know how to answer Weavling's remark. Sitting in front of him was Satine, the most beautiful girl in the school. She had long wavy red hair and deep paradise blue eyes. She looked at Christian with such apt interest that it gave him to the courage to ignore Weavling.
"Yes, Love, Love overcoming all obstacles. . . and there's a girl, you see. The most beautiful girl in all the world." He was of course talking about Satine.
"That's ENOUGH!!" snapped Mrs. Wickbone. Since she was a crabby, bitter old lady with no fashion sense, she hated love stories. Christian sighed with relief and dashed back to his chair. They all handed in their papers and Christian felt a twinge of pain as he handed his to Mrs. Wickbone. He knew that despite his efforts, she would fail him. She always did. It was because she hated him, loathed him even. He didn't know why, and really, honestly, he didn't care.
After class, Christian rushed towards the library and bumped, smack into Weavling and his best friend Fed Warner.
"Why Heloooooooooooooooo." Weavling sneered.
"What a fortunate coincidence meeting you here." Warner grinned evilly.
Christian didn't think it was.
"Yeah. . . sure." Christian stuttered. He just wanted to leave, return his library books on time and maybe even do some research for his history paper . . . but Weaviling has other ideas.
"I saw you looking at Satine today in class. You keep your eyes to yourself!" He snapped.
"Uh. . ." Christian started.
"She's mine so just back off!" The duke yelled in Christian's face. He wanted desperately to escape the foul breathed-weasel but Warner was on the track team and could catch him in an instant. He was also on the wrestling team, and coul easily pound his face in.
"Actually, she's mine." boomed a voice behind them. They all turned to see Harold Zidler, captain of the football team and Satine's older cousin standing against a locker.
"Zidler! How wonderful to see you! I didn't mean to take ownership of Satine just yet, but. . . I was just putting Mr. James here in his place.
"Soon enough, my friend, soon enough. Why don't you come with me and we'll discus this over coffee in the café." Zidler offered.
"Sure. Warner, dispatch of James as you must." Weavling said, waving his hand vaguely as they walked away.
Warner grinned maliciously at Christian who gulped. He watched as the two walked away, wishing desperately he could escape. Warner closed in on him and Christian closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.
And waited.
And waited.
But it never came. Instead he heard,
"FRED!"
and his heart leapt. Could it be? He opened his eyes and was greeted with the pleasant sight of the red haired wonder herself.
"Fred! What are you doing?" Satine asked crossly. Warner blushed.
"Nuthin. . . " He mumbled.
"That's what I THOUGHT. Good bye, Fred." Satien growled. Warner looked confused. He looked from Satine to Christian and back again. Finally coming to the conclusion that Satine would kick his butt if he hurt Christian, he made a mental note to catch him later and stalked away.
"Sorry about him, Chris!" Satine apologized. She was the only one he knew who called him Chris. You would have thought it would catch on, considering he knew her since when girls were icky, but no.
"Eh, no problem." Christian said, picking up his books that he had dropped.
"Weavling's just jealous that I like you better." She rolled her eyes at Warner as he turned the last corner out of sight.
"Wait. . . you like me better?" Christian smiled.
Satine's cheeks turned a pale pink.
"Of course! You're my buddy! My chum!" She punched his arm lightly, "And honestly, I don't really think ANYONE likes Weavling, not even Fred."
"Oh but I thought you were going to Prom with him." They started walking towards the library.
"Yeah, but that's different. I don't want to. It's a very complicated situation. Weavling's father is a very powerful man, and If I go out with him, Harold gets a scholarship to any collage he wants. It's just business."
"But, doesn't that bother you at all?" Christian asked, set aback.
"Uh. . . not really. Harold needs to get into a good collage to support our family. Things aren't so great with our clan. We might have to turn to prostitution!" She started laughing.
"That's awful!" Christian cried.
Satine paused but then started laughing again, even harder.
"I'm kidding! The look on your face! Ahahaha!" She slid against the wall and onto the floor laughing into her knees. Christian watched, not sure what to do. She finally looked up at him and smiled.
"Boy, you need to have fun more often! It was a joke!" Christian blushed.
"Don't worry! Hey, how about this. Tomorrow night I'll take you roller blading! We'll have fun!" She stood up and grinned.
"O-okay!" Christian said, he was getting that singing feeling again.
"Here." She ripped off a piece of paper from one of his note books and scribbled her number on it. "Call me tomorrow after school and we'll plan it, kay?"
"Sure." He could barely believe what was happening.
"Great! It's a date! See ya!" And she ran off to her class. Christian sighed and stared at the paper in his hand. He stuffed it in his pocket and turned the corner.
"Oh happy dayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" He sang, almost running over Toulouse, the president of the drama club and his posse.
"MAGNIFIQUE!" He cried staring at him.
"What?!" Christian gasped.
"You have a wonderful voice!" The tall Argentinean one said.
"I-I-I do?!" Christian stuttered.
"Yeup! You're joining drama club! Lets go." Toulouse said, and they dragged him off to their club room.
~End Day One
What did you think? Hope you like! Please review!
Coming Next: Christian and Satine go rollerblading and Weavling has a little 'accident' with a milk shake.
By Anne Parkington
~Disclaimer: I don't own Moulin Rouge. Baz does, that brilliant Baztard. . .
Dedicated to: Kristen. . . cuz I can if I wanna!
It's modern times and the Moulin Rouge people all go to the same highschool. It's their Junior year and prom is right around the corner. Will Christian land the date of his dreams, even if she's forced to go with someone else?
Day One
Christian ran into his English class 15 minutes late. He slipped on the puddle of water he dripped off his sopping clothes and landed on his back. The whole class burst into fits of hysteria while Mrs. Wickbone, the crumply old horn-beast teacher glared. He stood up and pushed his glasses back into place.
"Looks like Mr. James thinks he's better than every one else and can come to class when he feels like it." She grumbled. Christian blushed.
"Actually, my car broke down, and it's raining, and. . . " He knew she wasn't taking excuses, "I ran as fast as I could ma'am!" He explained.
She shot him her white hot glare of death.
"Since you felt you were far superior to the rest of us," She croaked, "You can read us a passage from your paper."
As Christian sat down, his heart sank. What paper?!
"Assuming you HAVE it of course." Her eyes glittered as she sneered at her least favorite student.
"Uh. . ." Christian stuttered.
"The creative writing assignment I handed out 2 months ago?" She growled, her tongue thick and dry behind her teeth.
Christian sighed with relief. He had finished that one AGES ago!! He pulled it out of his backpack and beamed triumphantly.
"Read it." Mrs. Wickbone snapped. His face fell; speaking in front of the calss wasn't his strong point, and she knew it.
"I'd prefer-"
"Read it now or you'll have Saturday detention with me." She snarled, her eyes blazing.
As if someone had poked his bottom with a thumbtack, he jumped from his chair and scrambled to the front of the room, still slipping on his wet shoes. He stared wide-eyed at the class, clutching his paper. Mrs. Wickbone chuckled cruelly to herself.
"Th-th-the story. . i-is about love." Christian started, sweat pouring off his forehead and dripping down his nose, making his glasses slip again.
"Love?" A voice droned from the corner. Christian looked up to see who had spoken.
It was Weavling, the duke's son. He kind of looked like a weasel with reddish blondish hair and mud brown eyes. He had a permanent sneer and could taunt people by just looking at them.
Christian didn't know how to answer Weavling's remark. Sitting in front of him was Satine, the most beautiful girl in the school. She had long wavy red hair and deep paradise blue eyes. She looked at Christian with such apt interest that it gave him to the courage to ignore Weavling.
"Yes, Love, Love overcoming all obstacles. . . and there's a girl, you see. The most beautiful girl in all the world." He was of course talking about Satine.
"That's ENOUGH!!" snapped Mrs. Wickbone. Since she was a crabby, bitter old lady with no fashion sense, she hated love stories. Christian sighed with relief and dashed back to his chair. They all handed in their papers and Christian felt a twinge of pain as he handed his to Mrs. Wickbone. He knew that despite his efforts, she would fail him. She always did. It was because she hated him, loathed him even. He didn't know why, and really, honestly, he didn't care.
After class, Christian rushed towards the library and bumped, smack into Weavling and his best friend Fed Warner.
"Why Heloooooooooooooooo." Weavling sneered.
"What a fortunate coincidence meeting you here." Warner grinned evilly.
Christian didn't think it was.
"Yeah. . . sure." Christian stuttered. He just wanted to leave, return his library books on time and maybe even do some research for his history paper . . . but Weaviling has other ideas.
"I saw you looking at Satine today in class. You keep your eyes to yourself!" He snapped.
"Uh. . ." Christian started.
"She's mine so just back off!" The duke yelled in Christian's face. He wanted desperately to escape the foul breathed-weasel but Warner was on the track team and could catch him in an instant. He was also on the wrestling team, and coul easily pound his face in.
"Actually, she's mine." boomed a voice behind them. They all turned to see Harold Zidler, captain of the football team and Satine's older cousin standing against a locker.
"Zidler! How wonderful to see you! I didn't mean to take ownership of Satine just yet, but. . . I was just putting Mr. James here in his place.
"Soon enough, my friend, soon enough. Why don't you come with me and we'll discus this over coffee in the café." Zidler offered.
"Sure. Warner, dispatch of James as you must." Weavling said, waving his hand vaguely as they walked away.
Warner grinned maliciously at Christian who gulped. He watched as the two walked away, wishing desperately he could escape. Warner closed in on him and Christian closed his eyes, waiting for the blow.
And waited.
And waited.
But it never came. Instead he heard,
"FRED!"
and his heart leapt. Could it be? He opened his eyes and was greeted with the pleasant sight of the red haired wonder herself.
"Fred! What are you doing?" Satine asked crossly. Warner blushed.
"Nuthin. . . " He mumbled.
"That's what I THOUGHT. Good bye, Fred." Satien growled. Warner looked confused. He looked from Satine to Christian and back again. Finally coming to the conclusion that Satine would kick his butt if he hurt Christian, he made a mental note to catch him later and stalked away.
"Sorry about him, Chris!" Satine apologized. She was the only one he knew who called him Chris. You would have thought it would catch on, considering he knew her since when girls were icky, but no.
"Eh, no problem." Christian said, picking up his books that he had dropped.
"Weavling's just jealous that I like you better." She rolled her eyes at Warner as he turned the last corner out of sight.
"Wait. . . you like me better?" Christian smiled.
Satine's cheeks turned a pale pink.
"Of course! You're my buddy! My chum!" She punched his arm lightly, "And honestly, I don't really think ANYONE likes Weavling, not even Fred."
"Oh but I thought you were going to Prom with him." They started walking towards the library.
"Yeah, but that's different. I don't want to. It's a very complicated situation. Weavling's father is a very powerful man, and If I go out with him, Harold gets a scholarship to any collage he wants. It's just business."
"But, doesn't that bother you at all?" Christian asked, set aback.
"Uh. . . not really. Harold needs to get into a good collage to support our family. Things aren't so great with our clan. We might have to turn to prostitution!" She started laughing.
"That's awful!" Christian cried.
Satine paused but then started laughing again, even harder.
"I'm kidding! The look on your face! Ahahaha!" She slid against the wall and onto the floor laughing into her knees. Christian watched, not sure what to do. She finally looked up at him and smiled.
"Boy, you need to have fun more often! It was a joke!" Christian blushed.
"Don't worry! Hey, how about this. Tomorrow night I'll take you roller blading! We'll have fun!" She stood up and grinned.
"O-okay!" Christian said, he was getting that singing feeling again.
"Here." She ripped off a piece of paper from one of his note books and scribbled her number on it. "Call me tomorrow after school and we'll plan it, kay?"
"Sure." He could barely believe what was happening.
"Great! It's a date! See ya!" And she ran off to her class. Christian sighed and stared at the paper in his hand. He stuffed it in his pocket and turned the corner.
"Oh happy dayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" He sang, almost running over Toulouse, the president of the drama club and his posse.
"MAGNIFIQUE!" He cried staring at him.
"What?!" Christian gasped.
"You have a wonderful voice!" The tall Argentinean one said.
"I-I-I do?!" Christian stuttered.
"Yeup! You're joining drama club! Lets go." Toulouse said, and they dragged him off to their club room.
~End Day One
What did you think? Hope you like! Please review!
Coming Next: Christian and Satine go rollerblading and Weavling has a little 'accident' with a milk shake.
