Well long time no see Fanfiction. How many times I will be writing that, I don't know. Anyways, back on topic. A few months ago, I watched for the first time the wonderful musical Moulin Rouge. Me, being the romantic sap, loved it. Here I am later on spring break with nothing to do, so here's a gigantic songfic or just a regurgitation of the whole story. Enjoy!

It was a bleak night in Paris the beginning of a millennium. 1900. Dark clouds hung over the city out the window of an old run down traveler's inn. In the back of the room was a thin man. Wavy blond hair that had lost its gleam long ago hung over the man's face. Head pounding from a hangover, he slowly opened his dull blue eyes.

Across the room upon a table sat an old, worn typewriter. The man slowly brought himself to sit at the table. He placed his fingers over the keys. Slowly, he began to type each word, whispering them in a soft voice to himself.

"The greatest thing…you'll ever learn…" He felt the tears swelling up in his eyes.

"Is just to love…and be loved…in return…"

He paused, took a breath, and continued.

"The Moulin Rouge. A night club… ruled by Francis Bonnefoy. Where your darkest desires would be realized by the beautiful creatures that inhabit it…the most beautiful, being the one I loved… Seychelles. A courtesan. She sold her love to men. They called her…the sparkling diamond. And she was the star of the Moulin Rouge."

Pausing, he rested his forehead on his hand, turning to look out the window to the building across the way. An old red windmill.

"The woman I loved is…dead."

Turning back, he continued.

"I first came here to Paris one year ago…it was 1899, the summer of love. I knew nothing about the Moulin Rouge. The world had been swept up in a new craze, the Bohemian Revolution. And I came from Canada to become a part of it. From the train I soon found my way to the town of Montmartre, and it was not like how my brother had described it.

'Really now? Come on, bro. France? That place is so old and boring with their baguettes and their mimes. Now, if you want a real story that people will love, write an action adventure about an unstoppable hero, like me!'

…Anyway, it was the center of the whole Bohemian revolution, filled with artists, writers, musicians, painters! They were called the "Children of the Revolution". So, I wanted to be a part of it. I have come to live the life of a penniless writer, to finally be acknowledged, and to write about freedom, beauty, truth, and above all things, love!

…Erm, there was just one problem with that…

I had never been in love!

Luckily at that moment, an unconscious Spaniard fell through my roof.

He was then followed by an Italian dressed as a nun holding a cat."

The door burst open as a carefree looking Italian jumped in.

"Ciao! I'm Feliciano Vargas, and you?" Feliciano lept over to him, making small "Ve~" noises with each step, and stuck out his hand.

"Um… I'm Matthew. Matthew Williams. Nice to meet you too?" The Canadian unsurely took his hand and received a vigorous shake.

"Uwaa~, Spain-nii chan fell asleep again! Then again, he takes lots of siestas. I should take one soon too…" The Italian began muttering things to himself, the cat in his arms giving a meow. Matthew was unsure of this sight. Were these strange people also artists?

"Ugh…don't tell me Antonio fell asleep again!" A gruff voice came up from the hole in the ceiling. An albino man stuck his head through and peered down at Matthew.

"Oi Feli-chan, who's dis?"

Feliciano snapped out of his daydream and looked up at the man.

"Oh! Prussia! Spain-nii chan fell asleep again!" He gave a frown, probably longing for a nap and a break as well, then walked over to Matthew.

"Hey Prussia, maybe Matthew can take Spain-nii's part in our play until he wakes up! Can he?"

"A play?" Matthew repeated, shocked.

Apparently, Gilbert - or as Feliciano kept calling him Prussia – was the leader of this troupe of actors writing a new and modern play called "Spectacular Spectacular" that circled the ideals of the Bohemian Revolution!

"Well we do need someone to stand in while I write the music to finish this scene…" A rather proper dressed man wearing glasses spoke out, holding a few pieces of sheet music in hand.

"Oh man, we, like, sooo need a stand in so I can think up the effects we need for the next scene." A younger…man(?) with fairly long blond hair and green eyes turned to the Prussian. "Next scene's gunna have, like, lot of ponies, right? They're just so awesome to leave out!"

…Okay, this is just getting even weirder.

Before you know it, he was dressed as a…hunter?

"Of ponies!" Feliks interjected.

Feliciano was singing something about mountains, Roderich was playing the piano beautifully, and Feliks was…trying on an outfit that Matthew was pretty sure belonged on a girl's body.

"Grrr! Stop, stop!" Gilbert was waving his hands around in the air, disgusted.

"You!" He pointed to the pianist. "Are totally prissy, nine-foot-pole-up-the-butt boring! Play something awesome and cool for once, will ya? You're messing with my story!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Hey guys! Doesn't this milkmaid's dress, like, looks sooo cute on me?"

"Ve?"

"Shut up, you cross-dressing weirdo!"

"Um…hello?" Matthew was unsure of what to do. He went on being ignored.

"You have always been like this since day one Gilbert! I haven't the faintest idea why I even agreed to do this!"

"Well excuuuse me princess, but who made you, like, queen of everything?"

"Hmph, be that way then!" Gilbert yelled. "I don't need you, any of you! Haha, I can do this all on my own!" He made his way towards the door, opening it. "I'm so awesome, I can play the parts on my own, and everyone will want an encore of my entire play! I'll make millions! Ha ha ha! I don't need help at all! I'm used to doing things on my own anyway! Ha…"

Giving a few more weak laughs, he slammed the door behind him.

"…Umm, so, like, what do we do now dudes?"

Again, thanks for reading, please press that lovely button below to review and let me know if I should continue this! :D

- As always, Astri.