"Le Tango De Roxanne"
Chapter 1
"Vivian!" My mother called shrilly from down the stairs.
"Coming Mother!" I called, brushing the last knot out of my hair. I sighed dejectedly, taking one least look in the mirror before smoothing down my dress and rushing downstairs.
"We're going to be late." She reminded me.
Last year on my birthday I learned that we were never late for anything. She says this to me every year, but we always leave fifteen minutes early, so being late isn't even an option.
This was a tradition with us. Every year my mother, my father, and I would go to the same fancy restaurant for my birthday, and I was aching for a change in the routine. I turned eighteen this birthday, and as an adult I wanted to escape. I wanted to go to some grown-up place without my parents.
I wanted to go to the Moulin Rouge.
But there was no way in any lifetime that my mother or father would ever permit me to visit the dance hall that all of Paris talks about. It is simply just too full of the wrong type of activity, and my parents want me no where near it. This fact, however, just made me want to go even more.
It seemed so exciting there, with all its blaring music and plashing lights, not to mention the fine selection of men that went promenading around the dance floor every night. True, they were almost always drunk, but if you looked hard enough, you could find a nearly sober one.
People sometimes wonder how I know so much about a place I've never been. I tell them that my friends supply me with all the knowledge I could ever need about the Moulin Rouge, because they are weekly visitors with plenty or stories to tell.
So this birthday, I decided it was time for me to escape.
"Mother," I started just as we were about to exit the doorway.
"Yes dear?" She said, turning around.
"I'm not feeling well at all. My head is burning and my stomach feels ill. Can I please be excused from the supper tonight and lie down until it passes?" Her brow wrinkled.
"But, Vivian, a moment ago you were feeling fine, and I've already made the reservations. Are you sure it isn't just nerves?" I scoffed inwardly.
"What do I possibly have that would cause me to be nervous mother?" I asked.
"Very well." She replied, frowning. "You may rest. But if I find out that this is just an excuse to skip dinner you will be punished severely."
I nodded, putting one hand one my stomach and the other one my forehead. "Yes Mother, anything you like." I proceeded to go upstairs, groaning loudly as if to prove to her that I was telling the truth. I wasn't, of course, but it never hurts to play it up a bit.
When I was absolutely positive they had gone, I changed into my favorite dress. It was, in my opinion, perfect for the place I was going. It was extremely low cut, and the bodice of the dress had a lace up front, making it look like a backwards corset. The skirt went down to my ankles and had many different layers of colorful fabric piled on top of each other. I had never seen the cancan dancers at the Moulin, but I was pretty sure I would fit in.
As I walked out the door, I was faced by my three closest friends.
"Going to the Moulin Rouge, are you?" One of them said. I nodded, smiling, and let them lead me to the one place I've always dreamed of going.
I was finally able to see the Moulin Rouge.
Chapter 1
"Vivian!" My mother called shrilly from down the stairs.
"Coming Mother!" I called, brushing the last knot out of my hair. I sighed dejectedly, taking one least look in the mirror before smoothing down my dress and rushing downstairs.
"We're going to be late." She reminded me.
Last year on my birthday I learned that we were never late for anything. She says this to me every year, but we always leave fifteen minutes early, so being late isn't even an option.
This was a tradition with us. Every year my mother, my father, and I would go to the same fancy restaurant for my birthday, and I was aching for a change in the routine. I turned eighteen this birthday, and as an adult I wanted to escape. I wanted to go to some grown-up place without my parents.
I wanted to go to the Moulin Rouge.
But there was no way in any lifetime that my mother or father would ever permit me to visit the dance hall that all of Paris talks about. It is simply just too full of the wrong type of activity, and my parents want me no where near it. This fact, however, just made me want to go even more.
It seemed so exciting there, with all its blaring music and plashing lights, not to mention the fine selection of men that went promenading around the dance floor every night. True, they were almost always drunk, but if you looked hard enough, you could find a nearly sober one.
People sometimes wonder how I know so much about a place I've never been. I tell them that my friends supply me with all the knowledge I could ever need about the Moulin Rouge, because they are weekly visitors with plenty or stories to tell.
So this birthday, I decided it was time for me to escape.
"Mother," I started just as we were about to exit the doorway.
"Yes dear?" She said, turning around.
"I'm not feeling well at all. My head is burning and my stomach feels ill. Can I please be excused from the supper tonight and lie down until it passes?" Her brow wrinkled.
"But, Vivian, a moment ago you were feeling fine, and I've already made the reservations. Are you sure it isn't just nerves?" I scoffed inwardly.
"What do I possibly have that would cause me to be nervous mother?" I asked.
"Very well." She replied, frowning. "You may rest. But if I find out that this is just an excuse to skip dinner you will be punished severely."
I nodded, putting one hand one my stomach and the other one my forehead. "Yes Mother, anything you like." I proceeded to go upstairs, groaning loudly as if to prove to her that I was telling the truth. I wasn't, of course, but it never hurts to play it up a bit.
When I was absolutely positive they had gone, I changed into my favorite dress. It was, in my opinion, perfect for the place I was going. It was extremely low cut, and the bodice of the dress had a lace up front, making it look like a backwards corset. The skirt went down to my ankles and had many different layers of colorful fabric piled on top of each other. I had never seen the cancan dancers at the Moulin, but I was pretty sure I would fit in.
As I walked out the door, I was faced by my three closest friends.
"Going to the Moulin Rouge, are you?" One of them said. I nodded, smiling, and let them lead me to the one place I've always dreamed of going.
I was finally able to see the Moulin Rouge.