Title: A Story About Love
Author: Hope Grace
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Days of Our Lives. I also do not own the Moulin Rouge characters or the story of Moulin Rouge. That belongs to Baz Luhrmann, genius that he is. (Well, actually, Moulin Rouge is based on the Orpheus legend and La Traviata, but it still rocks.)
Summary: Chloe is the "Sparkling Diamond", the star of the Moulin Rouge. Although she is bound to the sniveling Duke Phillip, her heart really belongs to penniless Bohemian writer Brady. Can love overcome everything until the end of time?
Author's Note: This is a HUGE departure for me. HUGE. I mean, I know "Earth Angel" was based on a movie, but this is like fully immersing Days characters into the world of Moulin Rouge. It's an experiment, so I make no guarantees on the quality of it. I'm trying not to just directly steal everything from the movie, but it's not easy. Some scenes will be skipped entirely, and most will be told through the perspective of Satine/Chloe instead of Christian/Brady. And, there will be a very special twist at the end for the Broe fans. (Happy? Yes....)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter One: Nature Boy
Brady stood in his tiny room overlooking the streets of Montmartre, just a heartbeat away from the Moulin Rouge. He ran a hand through his disheveled beard and sighed deeply. A sigh that shook right down to his battered and beaten soul. The lights of the village cast a mournful blue glow across his room. The sky outside his window was black; the same color it had been since the day that Chloe had taken her last breath in his arms.
He knew that life around him continued on. The people outside his window, on the streets below, were living, loving, and enjoying themselves. But, his life had stalled at the moment when her blue eyes had closed for the final time, never to open again. But, as Harry Zidler himself would have said, "The show must go on."
And, that's what he had promised her as she lay dying in his arms. She told him to go on, to tell their story, to share his gift with the world. He had refused, not believing that life could go on without her, but now he knew he had to follow through with her wishes.
He paused a moment to look at the bird in the cage, the one that had belonged to Chloe. It was as if that tiny bird knew that it's owner was now a star in the heavens. The bird's usual chipper whistle had been replaced by a low and mournful tune.
Brady sat at his typewriter and briefly glanced out the window. A soft breeze from outside blew his curtains around, and carried on the breeze was a song.
***There was a boy
A very strange, enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he...
And then one day
One magic day
He passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me...
'The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love...and be loved in return'***
He looked down at the keys in front of him and began typing his story. Their story. A story about love.
"The Moulin Rouge... a nightclub, the dance hall of the bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. And the most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved, Chloe, a courtesan. She sold her love to men. They called her the "Sparkling Diamond", and she was the star... of the Moulin Rouge. The woman I loved is... dead. I first came to Paris one year ago. It was 1899, the summer of love. I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, Harold Zidler or Chloe. The world had been swept up in the Bohemian revolution. And I traveled from London to be a part of it. On a hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre. It was not as my father had said."
The words of his father echoed through his head. A village of sin is what he had called it. He had told him that he would end up wasting his life away with a dancer at the Moulin Rouge if he left London. But, his father had been wrong. Things were never what they seemed in Montmartre. Brady shook his head and continued his typing.
"It was the center of the Bohemian world with musicians, painters, writers. They were known as the "Children of the Revolution." Yes, I had come to live a penniless existence. I had come to write about truth, beauty, freedom and that which I believe in above all things... LOVE."
"There was only one problem - I'd never been in love!"
Brady sighed and brushed away the piece of blonde hair that had fallen in his face. He quickly tapped out the events of the night when all of this had begun. The night an unconscious Argentinean had fallen through his roof. The night when he was to meet a dwarf named Henri Marie Raymond Toulouse-Lautrec Montfa, but just Toulouse to his friends and acquaintances.
It was his first real taste of the bohemian lifestyle. Somehow he had been convinced to stand in for the unconscious Argentinean as they rehearsed a new production entitled "Spectactular, Spectacular", something that apparently took place in Switzerland and involved a goatherd and a nun. The bohemians argued over one specific lyric, but then again, how would one expect a group of French artists to know what a Swiss nun would sing?
**The hills are animated with, the euphonious symphony of descant... **
**The hills are vital intoning the descant...**
And, even the unconscious Argentinean had woken up long enough to contribute his own idea: **The hills are incarnate with symphonic melodics.**
Brady frowned at them, wondering how it was possible that any of them thought that you could create a lyric with words like that. And, that was when he had suddenly burst out into loud song, a lyric that was more appropriate and far more melodious.
**The hills are alive with the sound of music...**
The faces of his new found friends lit up around him, and Brady continued, his clear and strong voice ringing out across the room.
**With songs they have sung for a thousand years...**
And as simple as that, it had been settled. Brady was to write "Spectacular, Spectacular", and they would somehow convince Harry Zidler to produce the show at the Moulin Rouge. But, Brady was not convinced himself. Could he write the first Bohemian revolutionary show? How did he even know that he was truly a Bohemian Revolutionary?
But, his new friends insisted that he must be. He did, after all, believe in the four ideals of the Children of the Revolution. Truth, beauty, freedom and above all things, love. Love was like oxygen to Brady, even though he had yet to experience it, he imagined that love could truly overcome all obstacles.
But how to convince Zidler? Through Chloe, of course. The Sparkling Diamond of the Moulin Rouge. Toulouse was convinced that once Chloe heard Brady's beautiful poetry, she would insist that Zidler allow him to write "Spectacular, Spectacular".
So, that was that. They were off to the Moulin Rouge, where Brady would perform his poetry for Chloe. And, his life would be changed forever.
***
Like I said, this is freakishly experimental for me, and I NEED your feedback desperately. I need to know whether I should keep this going or not.
I'm writing this and my Mason fic at the same time, so updates to this story will be less frequent than you may be used to from me. I have a feeling this won't be an easy one to write, so the Mason fic will get updated a lot more. Oh boy... What am I getting myself into? LOL.
-Hope-
Author: Hope Grace
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from Days of Our Lives. I also do not own the Moulin Rouge characters or the story of Moulin Rouge. That belongs to Baz Luhrmann, genius that he is. (Well, actually, Moulin Rouge is based on the Orpheus legend and La Traviata, but it still rocks.)
Summary: Chloe is the "Sparkling Diamond", the star of the Moulin Rouge. Although she is bound to the sniveling Duke Phillip, her heart really belongs to penniless Bohemian writer Brady. Can love overcome everything until the end of time?
Author's Note: This is a HUGE departure for me. HUGE. I mean, I know "Earth Angel" was based on a movie, but this is like fully immersing Days characters into the world of Moulin Rouge. It's an experiment, so I make no guarantees on the quality of it. I'm trying not to just directly steal everything from the movie, but it's not easy. Some scenes will be skipped entirely, and most will be told through the perspective of Satine/Chloe instead of Christian/Brady. And, there will be a very special twist at the end for the Broe fans. (Happy? Yes....)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter One: Nature Boy
Brady stood in his tiny room overlooking the streets of Montmartre, just a heartbeat away from the Moulin Rouge. He ran a hand through his disheveled beard and sighed deeply. A sigh that shook right down to his battered and beaten soul. The lights of the village cast a mournful blue glow across his room. The sky outside his window was black; the same color it had been since the day that Chloe had taken her last breath in his arms.
He knew that life around him continued on. The people outside his window, on the streets below, were living, loving, and enjoying themselves. But, his life had stalled at the moment when her blue eyes had closed for the final time, never to open again. But, as Harry Zidler himself would have said, "The show must go on."
And, that's what he had promised her as she lay dying in his arms. She told him to go on, to tell their story, to share his gift with the world. He had refused, not believing that life could go on without her, but now he knew he had to follow through with her wishes.
He paused a moment to look at the bird in the cage, the one that had belonged to Chloe. It was as if that tiny bird knew that it's owner was now a star in the heavens. The bird's usual chipper whistle had been replaced by a low and mournful tune.
Brady sat at his typewriter and briefly glanced out the window. A soft breeze from outside blew his curtains around, and carried on the breeze was a song.
***There was a boy
A very strange, enchanted boy
They say he wandered very far, very far
Over land and sea
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he...
And then one day
One magic day
He passed my way
And while we spoke of many things
Fools and kings
This he said to me...
'The greatest thing you'll ever learn
Is just to love...and be loved in return'***
He looked down at the keys in front of him and began typing his story. Their story. A story about love.
"The Moulin Rouge... a nightclub, the dance hall of the bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. And the most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved, Chloe, a courtesan. She sold her love to men. They called her the "Sparkling Diamond", and she was the star... of the Moulin Rouge. The woman I loved is... dead. I first came to Paris one year ago. It was 1899, the summer of love. I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, Harold Zidler or Chloe. The world had been swept up in the Bohemian revolution. And I traveled from London to be a part of it. On a hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre. It was not as my father had said."
The words of his father echoed through his head. A village of sin is what he had called it. He had told him that he would end up wasting his life away with a dancer at the Moulin Rouge if he left London. But, his father had been wrong. Things were never what they seemed in Montmartre. Brady shook his head and continued his typing.
"It was the center of the Bohemian world with musicians, painters, writers. They were known as the "Children of the Revolution." Yes, I had come to live a penniless existence. I had come to write about truth, beauty, freedom and that which I believe in above all things... LOVE."
"There was only one problem - I'd never been in love!"
Brady sighed and brushed away the piece of blonde hair that had fallen in his face. He quickly tapped out the events of the night when all of this had begun. The night an unconscious Argentinean had fallen through his roof. The night when he was to meet a dwarf named Henri Marie Raymond Toulouse-Lautrec Montfa, but just Toulouse to his friends and acquaintances.
It was his first real taste of the bohemian lifestyle. Somehow he had been convinced to stand in for the unconscious Argentinean as they rehearsed a new production entitled "Spectactular, Spectacular", something that apparently took place in Switzerland and involved a goatherd and a nun. The bohemians argued over one specific lyric, but then again, how would one expect a group of French artists to know what a Swiss nun would sing?
**The hills are animated with, the euphonious symphony of descant... **
**The hills are vital intoning the descant...**
And, even the unconscious Argentinean had woken up long enough to contribute his own idea: **The hills are incarnate with symphonic melodics.**
Brady frowned at them, wondering how it was possible that any of them thought that you could create a lyric with words like that. And, that was when he had suddenly burst out into loud song, a lyric that was more appropriate and far more melodious.
**The hills are alive with the sound of music...**
The faces of his new found friends lit up around him, and Brady continued, his clear and strong voice ringing out across the room.
**With songs they have sung for a thousand years...**
And as simple as that, it had been settled. Brady was to write "Spectacular, Spectacular", and they would somehow convince Harry Zidler to produce the show at the Moulin Rouge. But, Brady was not convinced himself. Could he write the first Bohemian revolutionary show? How did he even know that he was truly a Bohemian Revolutionary?
But, his new friends insisted that he must be. He did, after all, believe in the four ideals of the Children of the Revolution. Truth, beauty, freedom and above all things, love. Love was like oxygen to Brady, even though he had yet to experience it, he imagined that love could truly overcome all obstacles.
But how to convince Zidler? Through Chloe, of course. The Sparkling Diamond of the Moulin Rouge. Toulouse was convinced that once Chloe heard Brady's beautiful poetry, she would insist that Zidler allow him to write "Spectacular, Spectacular".
So, that was that. They were off to the Moulin Rouge, where Brady would perform his poetry for Chloe. And, his life would be changed forever.
***
Like I said, this is freakishly experimental for me, and I NEED your feedback desperately. I need to know whether I should keep this going or not.
I'm writing this and my Mason fic at the same time, so updates to this story will be less frequent than you may be used to from me. I have a feeling this won't be an easy one to write, so the Mason fic will get updated a lot more. Oh boy... What am I getting myself into? LOL.
-Hope-