L'amour !
Full Summary: Paris, France, 1899. A story about truth, beauty, freedom, and above all things, love; An ill-fated love between a writer and a courtesan.
Pairing: Axel x Roxas, Slight Terra x Roxas
Warnings: guys in drag, male/male relations, use of alcohol and possible drugs, people singing and dancing, mentions prostitution, more to come. Rating will probably change.
Author's Note: Hey, Guys! Rena here with a new story. I'm sure this crossover has been done about a million times, but this is my take on it. I'm writing this for my creative writing class and I should be updating about once weekly, hopefully.
Chapter One: Entre les acteurs
Paris, 1899
Summer. Montmartre district.
It was very different from his home in London; much more alive, fuelled by the energy of the bohemian revolution. Artists of all kinds filled the streets—painters, actors, musicians and, of course, writers—children of the revolution, as they liked to be called. They all were struggling for the same things, believed in the same things.
Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love.
He had come to live a life, a poor life, with these people and to write about those very things that they believed in. Specifically one topic in particular: Love. Not that his father had approved of his choice. He was actually quite against it.
"A bunch of sinners, that lot," he had said, "you'll waste away your time at the Moulin Rouge, boy. Every penny you earn writing about love will go to those whores. Just you wait and see. If you can earn even a penny, that is."
However, he had reminded his father that he was no longer a boy anymore. He was a young man and if he wished to move to Paris to write about love, the he was going to do it. His father eventually caved and he had hopped on to the next train to France. He ended up renting out a small one room loft that had a view of the one and only Moulin Rouge.
He had immediately set up a desk by the window with his type writer, intent on beginning to write as soon as he could. Just as he had sat down to write, a knock came at the door. Assuming it was just the kindly old land lady coming to tell him something she must've forgotten, he glanced over his shoulder as he gingerly placed his finger tips on the keys of the type writer. "Come in! It's unlocked," he called. The door swing open and hit the opposite wall with a bang.
"Welcome to the building!" chirped a cheery voice which caused him to turn. In his doorway stood a very odd looking man about the same height as himself with sandy blond hair with an unusual hairstyle. It was high down the middle and went down the nape of his neck but was shaved short at the sides. A large grin was plastered on his face as he spoke up again, "Name's Demyx! I live just above ya here. It's nice to meet cha… uh…"
It took the room's tenant a moment to take in the sudden appearance of Demyx before he quickly shook his head and gave the blond a lopsided smile. He stood and took a few short steps over to the door with his hand held out.
"Axel," he introduced, "It's a pleasure." Demyx looked around Axel and his sea-green eyes immediately brightened at the sight of the type writer.
"You're a writer!" he asked excitedly, eyes turning back to look at the man in front of him with a grin. "We need a writer! We had one, Zexion, but he got fed up with us and left this morning. I hope he's not too angry…"
Axel cocked an eyebrow in Demyx's direction, "A writer? For what?"
"Well, you see, me and the others, we're all actors! Or, at least we're trying to become actors. We haven't gotten very many shows. Right now we're in the middle of producing 'Spectacular, Spectacular'! It's going to be real great. If we can get it finished anyway…" Demyx looked like a balloon beginning to deflate. Axel tried not to look too awkward as he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets.
"Maybe I could take a look at the script," he offered, "can't promise I'll be much help, but—"
"Oh would you!" Demyx interrupted, quickly taking Axel's hand in both of his and holding it tightly between the two of them. "That would be great! We could really use the help, Axel!"
So much for the deflated balloon.
Axel gave Demyx a slight grin and the next thing he knew, he was being dragged out in to the hallway and up the stairs to Demyx's room. The blond's room was about twice the size of his own, if not more. It was absolutely trashed with half-finished sets and props, a piano shoved in the corner, and he was sure there was a bed under the mess of colourful fabric from what he assumed was for costumes.
"Guys, guys!" Demyx called as the stepped inside, cautiously as not to step on anything other than the floor, "I found us another writer!"
The first to raise their head was a young boy, a few years younger than himself with a mess of brown hair that stuck out in all directions and ocean blue eyes. His grin was just as large, if not larger, than Demyx's, as he hopped over a set and quickly made his way over to the two newcomers.
"Is this him, Demyx? Doesn't look like much of a writer. He looks like a musician or something. Is your hair naturally that red?" he asked excitedly, his eyes scanning over the much taller male. The kid talked just as much as Demyx did.
"Sora, calm down. Leave the poor man alone," came another, calmer voice, causing Axel to look up behind the brunet named 'Sora'. He was taller than the first boy, and at first glance he thought he was an older gentleman with his long silver hair that fell between his shoulder blades. He soon found out, however, that he was only a year older than Sora. His bangs hid his aquamarine eyes and made his face look paler than it actually was.
"But Riku…" Sora whined, his bottom lip sticking out just slightly. Riku simply shook his head before placing a hand on Sora's shoulder and pulling him back gently.
"Sorry about him," Riku apologized as he looked up at Axel. "He gets a little over excited sometimes. They both do," he continued as he shot a glance at Demyx who grinned bashfully.
Axel chucked quietly, "It's fine. Ah, I'm Axel by the way."
"Riku, and this is Sora," the silver haired male greeted with a nod of his head toward his younger friend.
"C'mon guys! Let's get a move on! We don't have much time left, y'anno."
Yet another man—how many actors were hidden in that place?—walked out from behind a prop mountain. His hair was dark and quite long with streaks of grey, tied back into a loose ponytail to keep it out of the way. His right eye was covered by an eye patch and his face was marred with a large scar that ran from his jaw on the left up his cheek. He wore a scowl, obviously not impressed with the sudden distraction of the group which caused Axel to shift his weight as he looked away.
"Aw, Xiggy… Don't be like that!" Demyx huffed, walking over to the man and giving him a firm pat on the back. The older man rolled his eye before lifting his hand and poking Demyx quite roughly in the chest.
"If you don't get your act together, this'll never get finished. Zexion already walked out and we're far enough behind as it is."
"That's why I brought him!" Demyx explained as he pointed to Axel. "He's our new writer! Well, he hasn't exactly agreed to do it yet but—"
"Then it's a waste of time, Demyx."
"Xigbar," Riku spoke up, his voice quiet but firm, "We need a writer."
Axel's green eyes darted between the three males, glancing briefly at Sora who stood just behind Riku with a worried expression. He hesitated a moment before taking a step forward, lips pulled back into an awkward smile.
"Look, if I'm just being bothersome, I can leave…" he said quietly. He watched as Demyx's eyes widened slightly and he hurried over to Axel.
"No! You can't leave! We need you!" Demyx exclaimed with panic in his voice as his hands grabbed Axel's upper arms, shaking the taller male a little.
"Look, I'm not even sure I'm fit to write a play…" Axel tried to reason, not wanting to bother them further. "I said I'd take a look at it. If there's nothing I can do, then he's right. It would just be a waste of his time."
"Do you believe in truth?" Sora asked, suddenly right beside Demyx and peering up at Axel with his big blue eyes, a smile appearing on his baby face.
Axel raised an eyebrow in confusion as he looked at Sora, "Er… yes?"
"Beauty?" Demyx asked.
"Yes…"
"Freedom?"
"Of course."
"Love?"
Axel fell silent, looking between the actors with a blank expression—dully noting that Xigbar was still looking less than impressed. His lips pursed together as his gaze fell back to Sora and Demyx who patiently, yet eagerly, awaited his answer.
"Above all things," he said quietly, turning to look out the windows and at the darkening sky, "I believe in love."
Sora clapped his hands excitedly and Demyx grinned, moving to stand beside Axel and drape an arm lazily over the writer's shoulders as his other hand was placed on his hip with a proud sort of look on his face.
"Then you'll do just fine! Trust me!"
So, Axel agreed to help them out with their play, 'Spectacular, Spectacular'. They told him it need to be finished as soon as possible, or at least get the plot finished and they could add in the more finer details later. They were planning to present their idea to Ansem, owner of the Moulin Rouge, in hopes to sell their show and they planned to do it that very night. It didn't give Axel much time.
As the others hurried to get as much done with the props and such as they could, Axel sat down by the window with the script that Zexion had started. He made a few revisions before he finished basic plot line just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. In order to celebrate, the actors decided to have a drink (or two) before they dressed Axel up in Xigbar's best suit – much to the man's disregard – before dragging him down the stairs as best they could.
Green eyes watched as gentlemen passed then in large groups in the streets, all dressed in suits and looked as if they ranged from the poor to the filthy rich. They were all headed to the same place, almost as if they were being beckoned in by the bright red lights that lined the windmill and large wall that surrounded the cabaret building. They all chatted animatedly amongst each other and Axel, although he had felt nervous at first, was beginning to feel his fear simply fade away. Maybe it had to do with the enthusiastic atmosphere or the thrill of going to the famous Moulin Rouge, but he would later agree that it most likely had to do with the alcohol swimming in his system.
As they entered the cabaret, he was immediately surrounded by plenty of young woman dressed in not much more than their corset, bloomers, and skirts. The music was loud and only flared his excitement. He had barely noticed that he had begun to stumble away from the group of actors before Demyx grabbed his arm with a laugh and pulled him back. Everything blurred around him and things seemed to be moving quickly. He was sure Riku had been shouting over the noise once they reached the table about how he was to meet with the star of the show afterwards but he couldn't hear what it was, let alone the girl's name.
Yet, despite his drunken state, he would soon find out that he would never forget that night.
