Adventures in the Red Room
Starring:
Carmine (drama-princess)
Karita (Karadarlin)
Sugar (Sugar Princess)
Ariella (Glitter's Infatuation)
Bella (She's A Star)
A/N: This fic is a collaborative effort between the members of the Red Room blog and takes place before the action of the movie. We own all our own characters, but nothing else. Reviews are always welcome.
Chapter 1: The Spanish Rose
Carmine was late. Again.
The nineteen year old can-can dancer was infamous for her smoky contralto, Spanish flair, and for her extreme lack of punctuality. She skidded into the dressing room and threw her hands up in despair.
I am cursed! she cried dramatically, collapsing on the small, broken-down chaise. I will never make call time-- in time! Her performance was interrupted by a snort, and Carmine turned to see Ariella standing there, hands on hips, shaking her head at her. Carmine's tirade was interrupted by a genuine smile. The young girl was a close friend, and she was one of the few people that Carmine allowed herself to be real with.
What's the crowd like tonight, love? Ariella raised her eyebrows and shrugged.
I don't know. Get dressed and we'll go find out.
Yes, yes, Carmine said, assuming her Spanish accent with ease. She'd been trained as an actress before coming to the Moulin Rouge, so she could take on and drop personas within seconds. Because of her olive skin and flowing black hair, she was known as The Spanish Rose.
Carmine finished applying her dark crimson lipstick and studied her reflection pensively, a faint diamond shape appearing between her eyebrows as she did so. Black velvet corset embroidered with blood red roses, a color scheme echoed in her skirt. The alternating panels of ebony and scarlet gave her plenty of opportunity for Spanish dancing, and the red georgette sleeves drew attention to her flawless arms. Carmine tilted her head.
What is it? Ariella asked curiously, twirling a length of fiery red hair between her fingers.
Something's missing. She tapped her long red nails against the mirror frame. How much time do we have before we're backstage?
Half an hour, Ariella said absently. Listen, I just remembered that I've got to go see Sugar about something. Will you see how many we'll have tonight?
Carmine said, still watching herself in the mirror. Yes, it needed something else tonight. Jewels?
Listen, sweetheart, you gonna stand there all night or are you actually gonna dance? The heavy accent broke through Carmine's thoughts, and a faint snarl appeared on her face. Nini. The older woman had it in for all the younger can-can girls, and seemed to especially go out of her way to torment the Spanish Rose.
What's the matter, Nini? Carmine asked casually, reaching for a feather. Cat in your throat again?
Don't push it, Rosie. Nini shoved her way in front of her and adjusted her sparkling black earrings. Nobody sees you in the back anyway. Carmine glared at her, but decided it wasn't worth the fight. And she had promised Ariella about checking the crowd.
Outside, the garden was mostly empty, but a steady stream of patrons were approaching the elephant's leg. Looked like a pretty good night. With a sigh, Carmine sank down onto a bench and massaged her temples. Another night, another lover. It wasn't a bad life, but it was. . . a little empty sometimes. She cast a cautious look around her and stood. Her little diva moments had earned her a lot of teasing from the other girls, but it warmed her up for the crowd.
Carmine lifted her arms and drew her lips together in a seductive pout. She knew just the right way to hold her head so that her face was illuminated by the lights, how to angle her hips in the way that just invited men to take a closer look. She began to hum softly, her voice warm and sultry. She felt the rhythm of the night flow through her veins and move her body. Her hand reached up and brushed her hair away from her forehead, eyes focused on nothing.
Vincent Latour shifted impatiently. As a wealthy, if somewhat minor, member of the aristocracy, he was not used to waiting. He glared over at his friend, Jean Corot. He still could not believe that he had been talked into visiting the infamous Moulin Rouge. His wife would probably go into the hysterics if he knew he had even ventured near the place. But then, Marie went into hysterics at the slightest provocation. She grew more and more neurotic with each passing year. After three years of marriage, Vincent was being to doubt his ability to stand the woman until his death. Which was, no doubt, responsible for him standing here in line, waiting to meet the young and beautiful creatures that the Moulin Rouge was legendary for.
Calm yourself. Jean flicked a hand at his younger friend. Just think, at this time you'd be sitting by the fireside with Marie.
I was thinking that, Vincent returned sourly, his bad humour returning. I'm just not sure a night with any of these famed can-can girls is going to help her squeal subside.
Just wait until you see the new star, Jean promised. She's stunning.
She'll probably be a soprano, Vincent said glumly. Just my luck.
Well, you can take whoever you want into the red room. And be thankful that I pulled enough strings to get you that deal. It takes power--
And money. I know how these things work, Jean.
Well, I think Satine will remove some of your melancholy. Relax, my friend.
Vincent opened his mouth to make a stinging retort, but was cut off by the sight of one of the famous dancers. She was visible only at the peculiar angle he was looking at-- but what a sight! He could only see her profile, but that was perfect. Medium height and slender, wearing a costume that did more than hint at the curves that lay underneath. She stood there, swaying to a song that only she could hear. The rich colours of the sunlight brought out the glossy tints of her black hair. She was. . .
What are you looking at? Vincent gestured out to the garden and Jean followed his gaze, puzzled by what had captured his attention.
Pretty girl.
Are you blind? Vincent asked incredulously. She's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen!
If that's your reaction to a minor can-can girl, I can't wait to see when you'll see the Sparkling Diamond! Jean snorted. Marie really has been a bad effect on you if your jaw drops at any remotely pretty girl.
Vincent didn't bother to reply. He was busy watching the girl, who had stopped dancing and was looking around the garden. She bent, her curved figure surrounded by radiant shots of gold light, and picked a flower. The red rose was woven into her mass of black hair, finishing the portrait of beauty that stood before him.
Vincent didn't bother to make up his mind, but he knew who he was taking into the red room that night. . .
Late again! Karita sighed at her friend, her upper-class English accent lending an authority to the words. Come on, get in place, Carmine. What were you doing out there?
Getting ready, Carmine replied tersely. Big crowd tonight.
Sugar said innocently, playing with her diamonds. Oh, we're starting.
Pounding music filled the Moulin Rouge as Harold Zidler moved out, followed by the four leading dancers.
The Moulin Rouge! he cried, already getting into the act. Carmine gathered her skirts and took a deep breath. The first step out onto the floor was always the worst. . .
Are you ready for this? he boomed. The crowd yelled something back that Carmine couldn't understand. He stepped out, his voice echoing through the huge hall. You must have bet I'm in here to stay, ready to take you around the way. So get ready for this!
Carmine stepped out, her head held high as she sang with the rest of the girls the chorus.
Sweet dreams of rhythm and dancing
Sweet dreams of passion through the night.
Tonight is the night!
Sweet dreams are taking over
Sweet dreams of dancing through the night.
Tonight is the night of love!
Sweet dreams of rhythm and dancing
Forever and ever it's never enough!
Sweet dreams of passion through the night.
So get out on that dance floor! Harold finished, standing aside for the girls to rush out into their positions. Are you ready for this?
the crowd roared, and Carmine flashed a bright smile at the nearest occupant of a table. The young boy turned bright red and seemed to need a new oxygen supply.
The. Can. Can! Harold boomed, and flipped the sign on the podium around. Carmine stamped her foot, her skirts falling in a swirl of black and red around her as she dropped them. She turned, swaying her hips and clapping her hands above her head as she sang along with the rest of the girls. She didn't see the intense pair of green eyes that were focused on her in a box above her head.
I wanna get into motion
A better devotion.
Carmine fell into the splits and out into a fan kick, her skirt falling to her hips and revealing what little she wore underneath. She cartwheeled up and began to kick her legs in the can-can, running her hands down her bodice all the while.
So I can make it through the night!
Come on, Vince. See a girl you fancy? We're going to dance with them! Vincent walked down the stairs purposefully, heading for the girl that his eyes had not left through the entire evening. She had continued her Spanish can-can, banging her foot against the floor as she threw her head back, singing in a low, throaty voice.
Care to dance? he asked, vainly trying to remember how to charm a woman from his courtship of Marie. The fact that she was a courtesan seemed to have eluded him. She eyed him carefully, and then brushed a hand up his arm and down his chest.
Why not? A lock of black hair had escaped her exotic chignon and was caressing her bare shoulder. The music changed and she slid her arms around him, bringing him close. He gasped slightly and inhaled her perfume. It was an exotic, Oriental scent that seemed to make him want to float on the air.
Wanna be my lover?
Wanna be my lover?
Be my lover
Be my lover
What's your name? Vincent gasped out, trying to maintain his composure. Her voice was rich and dark as she sang, and her eyes seemed to burn an invitation to him.
she said breathily, running her hands down his chest and legs before coming back up. That lock of hair seemed to have taken on a life of his own. The Spanish Rose, she added, an amused smile touching her lips.
he managed as she dipped back, demonstrating amazing powers of flexibility. There was a delicate hollow at the base of her throat that enchanted him, and he barely held himself back from reaching out and touching it.
she asked him, lazily tracing up his face and smiling seductively at him. Do you?
Do I-- what? Vincent's voice was definitely shaking now.
Wanna be my lover?
I-- I have the Red Room booked tonight.
This time it was Carmine who had to hide her expression. The Red Room? But that-- that was only used for high class courtesans that were patronized by very wealthy men. It took every ounce of her self-control not to drop the facade and break out with a bright smile. She had definitely lucked out this time.
Show me the diamonds, she said throatily. She brushed his cheek with her lips as she spoke. And I'll let you wear my ring.
Songs used (in order):
Get Ready for This 2Unlimited
Sweet Dreams La Bouche
Tonight is the Night Le Click
Be My Lover La Bouche
Meet Me in the Red Room Amiel