~ * ~ A * S T O R Y * A B O U T * L O V E ~ * ~



by She's a Star





Chapter Seven: Puppies and Birthday Cakes





A real actress, a real actress, a real, real, real actress...

Satine couldn't hold back her giddy smile as she slammed the door of her car and skipped into L'amour Fou. A horrendously loud rap song filled her ears as soon as she entered the club, and many of the men there ogled her appreciatively.

She ignored them, still singing inwardly.

A real, real, real actress! A real actress, a real actress!

"Hey baby," a slimy-looking middle aged man stepped in front of the door that led up to her family's apartment. "I'll give you fifty bucks to rock my world."

"Sorry, buddy," Satine said, rolling her eyes. "I've got the night off."

And with that, she slipped past him and upstairs. Nini was standing in the corner of the hallway, muttering to a short man who she had her arms wrapped around.

"Hey, Satine," the man, who Satine discovered was Travis, pushed Nini away from him. Nini crossed her arms angrily and a stream of muttered curse words escaped her lips as Travis made his way over to her.

"Hi, Travis," she greeted him with a smile. "Did Christian come with you?"

Travis nodded. "He said he was gonna wait in the Paris Room...which is hopefully unoccupied." He winked.

"Funny," Satine drawled. "Thanks...I'll see you around."

"See ya," Travis echoed, then turned back to a disgruntled-looking Nini. "Now, where were we?"

Satine smiled to herself as she skipped down the hall and pushed the door to the Paris Room open. Sure enough, Christian sat on the bed, a bouquet of roses in his arms.

"Hey you," Satine greeted him with a warm smile.

"For Mademoiselle Satine," he said extravagantly, handing her the flowers.

"Why, thank you, Monsieur," Satine purred, setting the flowers aside and sinking down onto his lap. After kissing him lightly, she asked, "So, how long have you been here?"

He shrugged with his signature boyish grin. "Not long...an hour or so."

"An hour?!" Satine asked laughingly. "Sitting up here all alone?"

Christian nodded. "I determined from my first visit that I'm not exactly the night club type."

Satine shook her head. "Believe me, neither am I."

"Oh yes," Christian agreed, absently twirling one of her red curls around his finger. "That's just why you're the star of one."

"Believe me," Satine sighed, "This was NOT my number one career choice."

The mischievous sparkle suddenly gone from his eyes, Christian asked solemnly, "Then why are you here?"

Satine inhaled sharply.

This was it-the moment she'd known was going to happen sooner or later. For so long, she'd kept every single emotion she experienced to herself...and she'd never expected that she would spill out her far-less-than-perfect story to ANYONE.

But Christian...Christian was different.

He was watching her intently, his blue eyes sympathetic, and Satine suddenly felt a yearning to tell him...a yearning to confide in him.

She sighed, then opened her mouth and began to speak softly.

"When I was in high school, I didn't have very many friends," she said. "I was the tall, awkward, ugly one-"

"Ugly?!" Christian asked incredulously. "No way. No way in hell."

"ExCUSE me, I'm TALKING here!" Satine said teasingly.

"Sorry, sorry."

"Anyway..." Satine sighed wistfully. "No guys ever asked me out, and no girls ever wanted to hang out with me. I got good enough grades...straight A's for my first two years. But then I got a D in math in my junior year, and an F in senior. That totally screwed up my getting any scholarships, and we couldn't afford college. My dad was a total bastard-he left me and my mom when I was nine, and Mom and Harry got married when I was sixteen. Harry wasn't doing so well money-wise, and he opened the club when I was eighteen."

Satine paused before continuing sarcastically, "I was an arrogant idiot...I refused to get a job at McDonald's. No way in hell...oh, no way the oh-so-wonderful Satine could work there. God forbid she make some french fries.

"I wanted to act...I wanted to act more than anything. Wanted to be the next Audrey Hepburn. But it was pretty damn obvious that wasn't happening...I wanted to get out of L.A. for a while and move to Paris, but I was flat broke. There was no way Marie and Harry could afford to send me there either. And then one night I came into L'amour Fou and saw a few of the girls dancing on the bar...and men were throwing fifty dollar bills at them. Fifty freaking dollar bills! I thought, 'Well, I can do that. It's just dancing. In a while, I'll be able to afford Paris.' But then things just got out of hand, and most of my...earnings went to paying the rent," She gestured unenthusiastically around the room. "And that's how I ended up here."

Christian planted a kiss on her lips, then murmured softly into her ear, "One day we'll go to Paris. Together. I promise."

Satine sighed. "If only-"

"We WILL," Christian repeated firmly. "And you'll have the time of your life, buying expensive French fashions and eating croissants and doing the can-can all day long."

Satine laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. "That sounds perfect."

Christian took her hand in his own and smiled.

"It will be."



~*~



What, exactly, were you supposed to buy the love of your life for their twenty-third birthday?

As Satine strolled forlornly down the sidewalk, she studied the displays in the shop windows. Sports equipment...didn't seem like his thing. An adult bookstore. Nada. Lingerie...

"This is ridiculous," Satine muttered angrily to herself, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans and sighing. "I..."

"Damn stray!" an annoyed, somewhat scratchy voice shrieked. A few seconds later, a middle-aged woman stepped out of a burger joint, holding a golden retriever puppy in her hands. "Stay out of the damn restaurant or I'll have you SHOT!"

The puppy wiggled and yelped, desperately trying to free itself from her strong grasp.

"Ohh, scared, are you?" the woman asked with a short, bitter laugh. "Well, stay AWAY!"

And with that, she threw the puppy down and stomped back into the restaurant. It sat on the pavement, looking incredibly shaken, tiny blonde tail in between its legs.

"Ohh," Satine cooed. "Poor baby."

The puppy looked up at her with huge eyes, thumping its tail weakly.

"Is that witchy lady mean to you?" she asked warmly, easing slowly towards it. She didn't want to frighten the puppy...especially after that bitch had practically scared the shit out of the poor thing.

"Hey honey," Satine continued as she sank slowly down onto the ground and tapped her knees lightly. The puppy stood up and began to walk slowly towards her, the hair on its back standing up straight.

It couldn't have been more than two months old-the dog was teeny, though its huge feet showed just how big it would be full size.

She scooped the puppy up into her arms, petting it and murmuring softly. After a few moments, it looked up at her and licked her nose.

Satine laughed as the puppy barked playfully at her.

Finding Christian a present had been easier than she'd expected.



~*~



"He's coming, he's coming!" Satine reported, immediately backing away from the window and practically diving behind the old sofa.

"He is?" Travis asked, standing up. Satine yanked violently at the hem of his shirt, pulling him back down.

"Yes, he is, you MORON," she scolded him playfully. "Don't ruin the surprise."

"Sorr-ee."

"Woof," contributed the puppy (which Satine had christened Petite Princesse), who wore a ridiculously red bow around her neck.

"Shhh," Satine said, pressing a finger to Princesse's snout.

"Sure, you're nice to HER," Travis muttered bitterly.

"I-"

Satine shut her mouth immediately when Christian stepped inside. He stared around the house for a moment, as though expecting something, then came over and sank down onto the couch. Slowly, Satine stood up behind him and put her hands over his eyes.

"I wonder who that could be," he said teasingly, putting his hands on top of her own.

"Happy birthday to you," Satine purred seductively. "Happy birthday to you...happy birthday, dear Christian."

She danced around the couch, sat down next to him, and perched her long legs across his lap.

"Happy birthday to you," she finished, then planted a kiss on his lips.
"And many more!" Travis contributed, popping up from behind the couch.

Satine and Christian broke away from each other.

"Hey, Travis," Christian greeted his best friend laughingly.

"So, Satine," Travis asked in a Mr. Smooth tone. "Are you gonna sing happy birthday to me?"

"Sure, what the hell. When's your birthday?"

"Er...today," Travis said. "Honest. Me and Christie, we're twins."

"Oh really," Satine said teasingly. "Well, in that case..."

She rose from Christian's lap, wrapped her arms around Travis (she towered over him by at least five inches), and put a seductive expression on her face.

Then, her lips only inches from his ear, she began to sing. Her voice extremely loud and full of fake enthusiasm, she belted out, "Happy happy birthday from all of us to you! We wish it was our birthday so we could party too! HEY!"

Travis pulled away, fingering his ear gingerly as Christian laughed.

"I was thinking something along the lines of Christian's performance," he said bitterly.

"Nah," Satine said with a grin, returning to Christian's arms. "The Emperor's New Groove is brilliant when it comes to birthday songs."

"You watch Disney movies?" Travis asked skeptically.

Satine smiled. "Of course-doesn't everybody?"

"Sooo," Christian said with a grin. "What'd you get me?"

"Ah, yes," Satine said, rising from his lap and going behind the couch. Princesse was sitting obediently, still not making a sound. Smiling at the puppy, she lifted it and placed it onto the couch.

"Happy birthday," she and Travis chorused.

A huge grin immediately spread across Christian's face, and he lifted the puppy into his arms.

"Honey, this is Petite Princesse," Satine said with a grin. "Princesse for short."

"Petite Princesse?" Christian asked laughingly. "How the heck did you come up with that?"

"I'm very skilled at naming dogs," Satine responded solemnly. "It's a skill I've had since birth."

"Oh, I see," Christian said, scratching affectionately behind the puppy's ears. "Among your many other talents, I'm sure."

"Of course," Satine laughed. "Now, let's go have some cake."

"You made me a cake?"

"Naturally!" Satine exclaimed teasingly. "That's the girlfriend's job, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Christian smiled, rising from the sofa to follow her into the kitchen. Princesse was snuggled happily in his arms.

Satine gestured dramatically to the perfectly-frosted vanilla cake which read 'Happy Birthday, Christian!' and was decorated with intricate, tiny multicolored swirls.

"You made that?" Christian asked incredulously.

"Well..." Satine said slowly. "Erm...not exactly."

"Oh really?" Christian asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Really," Satine confirmed, nodding. "That one's from the bakery downtown. But I DID make you a cake."

"You did?" Christian asked.

"Yup," Satine said earnestly, then swung open the refrigerator to reveal what she was sure was the most pathetic excuse for a cake ever created. It was horribly lopsided, and the middle had about caved in; the cap for the sprinkles had fallen off during the process of decorating it, and there was a huge clump of them in the middle. To make matters even worse, she'd run out of icing before she'd finished writing, which now meant that the cake read, in gooey blue letters, "Happy Birthday, Christ".

Yup...definitely the most pathetic cake Satine had ever seen.

"Five hours of absolute baking hell gone to waste," she proclaimed.

Christian, however, beamed at her and pecked her on the cheek.

"My darling," he proclaimed in an exaggerated British accent, "It is by far the most beautiful cake I've ever seen."

Satine raised an eyebrow. "You don't watch the Food Network much, do you?"

Christian laughed appreciatively and, after setting Princesse down on the floor, flung his arms around her.

"Who needs a fancy cake, anyway?" he asked, grinning. "Overrated, in my opinion."

"If you're sure," Satine said, planting a kiss on her index finger and touching it lightly to his lips. "But if you get food poisoning, you're not blaming me. Got it?"

Christian nodded, leaning in to kiss her.

"Got it," he responded with a smile.