Never Knew Love
Disclaimer: Well, I still don't own Moulin Rouge, and by the gauntness of my piggy bank, I never will. It's all yours, Baz, you lucky dog... at for now. Just wait till I get famous...
Author's Note: Another story about what would transpire if Christian never went to Paris, this time from Satine's POV. Not exactly a sequel, but in the same style. Please review and tell me what you think!
* * *
Satine squirmed loose from the Duke's possessive embrace. He had fallen asleep shortly after their lovemaking, but Satine hadn't been able to achieve the same bliss.
She wrapped her body in one of the sheets that had been kicked to the floor during their romp and moved away from the bed. She felt disgusting, even more so than she had after sleeping with her first client, all those years ago. The Duke was... she shook her head, unable to find words to describe him. As she had feared, he was as bad a lover as he was a dancer, and was oblivious to either fact.
She knew the type. Rich, important, powerful... absolutely disgusting. But only the first three mattered now. She had properly seduced and bedded him. The investment in 'Spectacular Spectacular' was in the bag and Harold needn't worry himself about it anymore. But she had a feeling that it wasn't over, and that she would be required to sleep with the Duke many more times until the show was complete.
The thought made her shudder involuntarily. It was times like this where she almost wished that she wasn't the star of the Moulin Rouge. Almost... What else was there for her? The streets? At least here she was paid well and could wear amazingly beautiful clothes. She could sing and dance... all she had ever wanted. And soon, now that she had slept with the Duke, she would be a real actress... a star.
There was something missing though. She never admitted it, but sometimes late at night she had woke to dreams of being in love. In love of all things! Prostitutes didn't fall in love. They couldn't afford it. It wasn't in the job description. What was in her contract was to make men believe what they wanted to believe. Nothing more. It was an unwritten contract that stated that you never, ever fell in love. Not with anyone. It always ended badly.
She had made up her mind when she had come to the Moulin Rouge that she wouldn't be one of the poor souls who lost themselves in a client's dreamy eyes. She would be cold and professional, with no feelings to hurt. No heart to break. She would never know love. Never.
She looked around the room, decorated in Middle Eastern taste. This was her fate, her destiny, her life. She didn't want love. She didn't need it. But she would always wonder... what would it be like, to be in love? Would it be as magical as they said? She doubted it. Love didn't bring you money or jewels, or stardom.
Her gaze fell on the Duke. This, this would bring her all she wanted. She resolved herself to pleasing the Duke as much as she could. He was already infatuated with her. It would be simple to get him to give her whatever she wanted. She would give him her body, but not her heart. She would not giver her heart to anyone. She would never know love. Love was a dream, a foolish one at that. "Why live life, from dream to dream... and dread the day when dreaming ends."
So resolved, she made her way back to the bed, letting the sheet drop from her pale skin. She slipped back under the covers. Instinctively, the Duke's arm wrapped around her again, pulling her close. She didn't resist.
Fine
Disclaimer: Well, I still don't own Moulin Rouge, and by the gauntness of my piggy bank, I never will. It's all yours, Baz, you lucky dog... at for now. Just wait till I get famous...
Author's Note: Another story about what would transpire if Christian never went to Paris, this time from Satine's POV. Not exactly a sequel, but in the same style. Please review and tell me what you think!
* * *
Satine squirmed loose from the Duke's possessive embrace. He had fallen asleep shortly after their lovemaking, but Satine hadn't been able to achieve the same bliss.
She wrapped her body in one of the sheets that had been kicked to the floor during their romp and moved away from the bed. She felt disgusting, even more so than she had after sleeping with her first client, all those years ago. The Duke was... she shook her head, unable to find words to describe him. As she had feared, he was as bad a lover as he was a dancer, and was oblivious to either fact.
She knew the type. Rich, important, powerful... absolutely disgusting. But only the first three mattered now. She had properly seduced and bedded him. The investment in 'Spectacular Spectacular' was in the bag and Harold needn't worry himself about it anymore. But she had a feeling that it wasn't over, and that she would be required to sleep with the Duke many more times until the show was complete.
The thought made her shudder involuntarily. It was times like this where she almost wished that she wasn't the star of the Moulin Rouge. Almost... What else was there for her? The streets? At least here she was paid well and could wear amazingly beautiful clothes. She could sing and dance... all she had ever wanted. And soon, now that she had slept with the Duke, she would be a real actress... a star.
There was something missing though. She never admitted it, but sometimes late at night she had woke to dreams of being in love. In love of all things! Prostitutes didn't fall in love. They couldn't afford it. It wasn't in the job description. What was in her contract was to make men believe what they wanted to believe. Nothing more. It was an unwritten contract that stated that you never, ever fell in love. Not with anyone. It always ended badly.
She had made up her mind when she had come to the Moulin Rouge that she wouldn't be one of the poor souls who lost themselves in a client's dreamy eyes. She would be cold and professional, with no feelings to hurt. No heart to break. She would never know love. Never.
She looked around the room, decorated in Middle Eastern taste. This was her fate, her destiny, her life. She didn't want love. She didn't need it. But she would always wonder... what would it be like, to be in love? Would it be as magical as they said? She doubted it. Love didn't bring you money or jewels, or stardom.
Her gaze fell on the Duke. This, this would bring her all she wanted. She resolved herself to pleasing the Duke as much as she could. He was already infatuated with her. It would be simple to get him to give her whatever she wanted. She would give him her body, but not her heart. She would not giver her heart to anyone. She would never know love. Love was a dream, a foolish one at that. "Why live life, from dream to dream... and dread the day when dreaming ends."
So resolved, she made her way back to the bed, letting the sheet drop from her pale skin. She slipped back under the covers. Instinctively, the Duke's arm wrapped around her again, pulling her close. She didn't resist.
Fine