Ta-da!

Chapter Twenty-Five

'Wake up!' someone was hissing at him.

Christian opened his eyes, waiting for his brain to fully awaken. He blinked at the blobs of red, white and deep red with blue in front of him. 'What?'

'Oh, thank God, I thought you'd never wake up!' Satine said, clapping her hand to her forehead. 'You need to get up! Today's the big day!'

'The play?' Christian must have missed a few days in his head.

'No! The celebration!'

'Why?' Christian sat up, looking around wildly. It looked dark outside. 'What time is it?'

'The celebration,' Satine continued, ignoring him, 'about a) you returning to the Moulin Rouge and being famous, b) me being alive and returning to the Moulin Rouge and c) the fact that we're in love.'

Satine basically jumped on him and shoved her tongue into his mouth. He moved backwards in shock and she came closer, wrapping her arms around his neck.

'Hold on a second!' Christian said, pushing her back and staring at her. He had gone from half-asleep to fully awake within a half-second. 'What?'

Satine glared at him. 'Is something wrong with you?'

'What?' Christian repeated, still unbelievably confused and buttoning his shirt back up. Was this a dream? And if not, why weren't they kissing?

Something wouldn't let him in his head.

Satine gave a frustrated scream into her hands. Christian leaned towards her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 'Look, I don't understand –'

'Zidler said this would be sooo easy,' Satine whined, sounding near tears.

'Zidler?' asked Christian. This was getting stranger by the minute. What had he woken up to? 'What does Zidler have to do with anything?'

She glared at him, pulling her hands away from her face. 'Is something wrong with me?'

'What? No!'

'Then why won't you kiss me?!'

Christian stared at her with his mouth open.

'I mean, any man,' Satine said, her voice rising as she stood up and pointed a finger to the Moulin Rouge, 'in there would do that as soon as I said 'go' but I'm obviously not enough for you, am I?!'

'Um, look, I have no real idea what's happening right now,' Christian deadpanned, staring at her. 'What do you mean I don't kiss you –?'

'What's the difference between them and you?' Satine asked herself, scrutinising him as though the answer was written on his face.

Christian shook his head angrily. 'Maybe the fact that I love you could be the difference!'

'I don't get it,' Satine said vaguely then she shook her head.

'Okay, fine,' snapped Christian, 'why don't you tell me how you're still alive?'

'I can't! Not now,' Satine continued, composing herself. 'I swear, I just need some time to –'

'To what?' Christian didn't know how they'd gotten into this.

'Tomorrow,' Satine said hastily. 'I'll tell you tomorrow, darling, just forget about it.' She smiled at him and said 'Do you know how cute you look when you're flustered?'

Christian ignored that and instead stared at her. 'Satine. What just happened?'

'I'm just – nervous,' Satine blurted. 'I mean, it's been so long... and tonight...'

'I'm sure you'll be fine,' Christian said, still staring at her.

Satine smiled at him and stood up. 'I have to get ready.'

'Now?' Christian asked, blinking. He really was doing a lot of that lately.

'It's two hours til it starts.'

'What time does it start? What time is it now?' asked Christian, feeling completely lost.

'It starts at seven at night. It is now five at night,' Satine told him, rolling her eyes. 'How late did you go to bed?'

About three in the morning he managed to fall asleep. Nonetheless, he felt amazing. After tomorrow he could forget everything about the Opera Populaire. And tonight was just one big party.

Satine looked relieved. 'Anyway, you look better today than you have in a while.'

'You look pretty amazing already,' Christian said, grinning at her. She grinned back and said, 'And who just objected to –?'

'I probably should try to find something to wear,' Christian shrugged. He didn't want to hear that. He didn't want to sleep with her at the moment. Something in his mind told him it was wrong. Something else in his mind told him that it shouldn't be wrong because he loved her.

Satine smiled a little tightly. But did she also look – relieved? 'Right, good, I'll go,' she said, nodding. 'Maria said we could find dresses together.'

'Okay,' said Christian, a little blankly. Who was Maria? 'Have fun.'

She had left the room before the word 'party' could be uttered.

Christian sat there on the bed, trying to piece it all together. In two hours the celebration would begin. At three o'clock in the morning he had managed to get to sleep after trying to for about five hours. He couldn't stop thinking about the play being a disaster.

But he felt great right now. Relieved, you could say. Because in less than two days he never had to think about the Opera Populaire or its occupants again.

He decided he probably should get ready.

--

Judging by the roar coming from below, Christian took a wild guess that the party had already started. He knew fairly well it would be Satine's return to... well, the living basically, but he couldn't really care. If it had been about him he probably wouldn't have gone in the end; there would be a few people staring at him but no one in their right mind would watch him over Satine and he was thankful for that. The writer was fairly sick of people staring at him wherever he went.

He grinned as he found three familiar faces waiting outside of the Elephant for him.

'You look a lot better than you have lately,' Satie exclaimed, and Christian shrugged, feeling thankful. He had been looking off-beat lately, as everyone kept telling him. But as he looked at the ready faces of Toulouse, Satie and the Argentinean he began to feel like himself again.

The sky was dark and the moon was hiding behind the dark clouds that slowly trod along the air. The cheering could be heard quite clearly.

'Well, gentlemen,' he said as they began to walk the unbelievably short walk up the steps to the cabaret waiting inside the Moulin Rouge, 'I've been off-colour lately and I'd like to apologise for the real scientific name of what the Argentinean calls "lovesickness". So tonight it would be absolutely amazing if you joined me in most likely getting smashed!'

They cheered together and Christian felt like he was really at home. Except for something...

Then the doors opened and Christian remembered what Zidler's parties were like. There were people everywhere, all standing or dancing or consuming numerous amounts of alcohol in booths or at tables. There was life everywhere, the talking was a roar mixed in the music, that strange music Zidler seemed able to come up with for any occasion with the beat that just made you want to dance. There was a stage that had been cleared and held many musical instruments as people moved around it, everyone obviously enjoying themselves. Lights showered down upon them, red and white and yellow while smaller lights seemed to hang around the room like fairies.

It brought his mind back to the masquerade. They had both been amazing in an overwhelming way, but so different. At the masquerade it was calm, quiet, secret, rich and beautiful. In the Moulin Rouge, it seemed free, and loud, happy, dark, yet the beauty was still there and the secrecy was hiding unless you looked hard enough. He enjoyed both of them in their own ways.

Nonetheless, as soon as he entered the room and knew his mind was almost catching on fire at the promising sight of finally feeling better again, he felt an odd sensation. He stopped grinning and looked around to see if someone was watching him. That was what it felt like in a way... but it also felt like he knew someone was here.

Which seemed stupid, because, yes, he knew a lot of people here. He forgot about it when Toulouse grabbed his arm and tried to drag him through the crowds to a booth. When that failed, Christian just followed Toulouse's experienced instructions on how to get through one, following the dwarf's voice. He couldn't help but feel that strange emotion mixing into the excitement he was feeling.

'Aha! A booth – Christian come here –!'

Toulouse's voice was just another cry in the room. Christian moved forwards and slid into the booth, quickly followed by the Argentinean and Satie. They were both looking very smart tonight and Satie had worn his favourite scarf for the occasion. Toulouse counted them.

'One, two, three, four – good! I'll order us the drinks!' With that, he disappeared into the people around.

Christian noticed there were people setting things up on stage, grabbing chairs and tuning instruments. Four men in suits stood on the other side of the stage, looking a little nervous and embarrassed and Christian had an idea they were going to be some source of musical entertainment. The dancers were joining together on the stage and he could see Chocolat, dressed in his white waist-coat and bright striped pants talking to two women, who nodded and smiled at the four men.

'So, are you doing a speech or something?' Satie asked, fingering his fuzzy chin.

'No way in hell,' Christian remarked and the Argentinean grinned, clapping him on the back. 'Zidler is going to say something on your return, as well as Satine's! And she has a speech I think too.'

'Oh, great,' Christian said enthusiastically. 'I can't wait to see how the audience react to Satine.'

'It will be interesting,' the Argentinean said, winking at Satie. Christian ignored that and looked at the crowd to see if Toulouse was approaching. The various suits and gowns had spread out around the room so the tables that had been set up over some of the dance floor were visible. White cloths and candles covered them, in a style that could be called romantic.

The new music began to play; it was a drum beat at first then the vocals and horns mixed in, that same music that indeed made people want to dance. Christian barely noticed it, even though he looked on stage. The dwarf woman (who held the same amount of glitter Carlotta did but not the toad quality) was up there while the four in normal suits had disappeared, though Christian was sure they were just as nervous. A few people whistled and the dancing started up to the song.

'I'll meet you in the red room

Close the door and dim the lights

I will be yours truly

If indeed the price is right –'

Christian's eyes travelled over the crowds – and stopped. He stared at the girl standing there in the silver dress, with her golden hair tied up. Christian muttered, 'Be back in a minute,' as he got to his feet and pushed through the crowd so he could talk to this girl who looked shy and out of place.

He tapped her shoulder and she looked around, almost frightened at the prospect someone would want to talk to her. Then her eyes widened.

'Hey, Meg,' Christian said, unsure of what to expect; he didn't know if Meg wanted to kill him still.

Meg squeaked and hugged him tightly. Christian hugged her back, not caring if someone was watching, even Satine. They were friends and he'd missed her.

He realised suddenly Meg was crying slightly. She pulled back and smiled at him with red eyes.

'Miss me that much?' Christian asked, unable to stop smiling at her; it felt so good to see her!

'I didn't even know I missed you that much,' Meg said, wiping her eyes and looking embarrassed. 'Sorry, um. I'm still angry though,' she added, glaring at him and crossing her arms.

'I wouldn't expect any less,' Christian replied honestly and she fought not to smile. 'I missed you. And you came!'

'Yes, Christine and I came,' Meg said excitedly. 'Mama would not be pleased... it's so different from the Opera Populaire...' She looked around as if her mother would be right behind her.

'Christine's here?' asked Christian, blinking. 'Just you two?'

'Yes,' said Meg, looking like she was performing a great duty. 'We're here to convince you that you still want to come back and that you're still in love with –'

'Meg!' Christian snapped. 'Forget about it. I belong here.'

'But not with her,' Meg said, cocking a thumb behind her. Christian looked behind her and saw Satine in a lovely red dress that flowed down to her feet and sparkled. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders and her blue eyes shone against her pale skin. She caught sight of him and smiled, waving her fingers at him. He couldn't help but notice she was talking to that sandy haired young man that he'd seen leave the Moulin Rouge in a storm off a few days ago. Christian felt curiosity hit him square in the face and looked back at the Giry girl.

'Why not with her?' Christian asked, arching an eyebrow at Meg.

'She's full of herself,' Meg said bitterly, glaring at Satine.

'I beg your pardon, I'm in love with her,' Christian replied, blinking at the ballerina. Meg's fairy-like face glared at him.

'Look, it's great to see you again and I really have missed you, but the only time I'm going back to the Opera Populaire is tomorrow,' he said, shrugging. His chest was wildly protesting at that and he told it to bugger off. It had been fine up until that. Now his head was starting to hurt. Ugh, just when he'd managed to get it to go away...

'Christian,' shouted Toulouse, appearing magically by Christian's legs. He smiled up at Meg, took her hand and kissed it. Meg blushed and smiled politely. 'And who is this beautiful young lady?' Toulouse asked Christian, and Meg tried not to laugh. Christian grinned, 'This is Meg, a friend of mine.'

'A friend,' Toulouse said, nodding.

'She's in love with someone,' Christian put up the barrier, remembering Robert. Meg's cheeks turned a darker red, the same colour as Satine's dress.

Toulouse looked momentarily disappointed then brightened. 'Any friend of Christian is a friend of mine!'

'The same for me,' Meg replied happily, shaking Toulouse's hand. As she glanced up at Christian, she whispered, 'But not her.' Toulouse did not notice. He informed Christian that the drinks were at the table and offered Meg to join them. She politely declined then seemed to think about it. 'Maybe,' she said finally and Toulouse nodded, disappearing back into the crowd.

'Odd man,' Meg said, smiling at Christian. 'But definitely good at heart.'

'He is,' Christian agreed and he felt like they were back at the Opera Populaire, surrounded by white and not red, on the staircases and not in the middle of a dance floor, with no one around except for a hyper soprano.

Meg smiled again, this time a little forced. 'Well, I shall join them, I suppose. Will I see you there or shall you go talk to your lady-love?'

'I need to talk to her for at least two minutes,' Christian said, grinning at Meg but only for a second. He felt awkward and didn't know rightfully what to do in this situation.

Meg nodded, looking down at her feet. 'I missed you,' she said again.

'I missed you too,' Christian replied truthfully. Meg nodded again, brightened up and said, 'I shall go join your friends.'

And with that, Meg walked through the crowd to the booth where the others had gone. Christian watched her go and felt guilt wash over him like rain. He shook his head and turned to move after Satine.

Once again he had that odd feeling of being watched... mixed in with his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He frowned and looked around to see if anyone was staring at him but right now he didn't exist. He could see Zidler hurriedly running through the crowd and could see Satine talking to a large amount of women who were all admiring her and stunned that she was still alive. No one seemed to be watching him. The sandy-haired man had blurred into the surroundings.

Christian moved towards Satine again and the crowd of women parted slightly to let him through, each of them looking at him flirtatiously.

'Oh, Christian, you're here!' Satine said, draping an arm around him. A few women looked disappointed that he wasn't single. The others just forgot he existed. 'This is Christian, girls; Christian, this is Eva, Lily, Rose, Johanna and Lucy.' She pointed to all the girls and he found he had forgotten all their names in an instance.

'How are you tonight?' he asked, ignoring them. 'Better?'

'A little,' she replied, smiling shyly and kissing him chastely. Christian ignored the little gasps and the fact that his head screamed at him. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be,' Satine said, looking a little horror-struck that he should be sorry. 'Look, I've got to go find Harold – I'm doing a speech tonight, oh my God –'

'You'll be great,' Christian told her, smiling. She nodded, breathing. 'Thanks, darling.'

'Just the truth,' he replied, grinning. His chest was aching again. What is wrong with me?!

'I'll see you later, where will you be?'

'I'm sitting with Toulouse –'

'Oh, no,' Satine interrupted, 'sit with us! You can't be expected to sit with Toulouse tonight.'

'Well, some friends of mine came, Meg and Christine –'

'Who?' Satine asked, frowning. She looked angry.

Christian sighed. 'They're from the Opera Populaire. Christine's actually playing you.'

The girls giggled. 'The Opera Populaire, hm?' asked one, probably Lily, if he remembered right. 'That's a very high-class place, isn't it?'

'I've heard it's haunted!' said another, maybe Johanna. Her blue eyes were wide with fear. 'There's a man – or a ghost, someone... there's been deaths there. Remember when it burnt down? They say that was him! Oh, he has a name...'

'I can assure you there's no such thing as ghosts,' Christian told her, smiling charmingly. The girls laughed while Johanna tried to think.

'The Phantom of the Opera, I think it is, dearie,' said Lucy, patting Johanna's shoulder. They were so unlike Meg and Christine, with their heavy make-up and rather revealing clothes, their beauty so dark rather than the light innocent kind that Meg and Christine held.

'He's probably charming,' sighed Eva, clasping her hands together.

'He's a ghost, he's a manic, you idiot,' replied Satine, rolling her eyes.

'Speaking of charming, some of the men here tonight...' Rose flung in.

'He probably murders people by the day to keep the place in line. Wouldn't it be horrible?' asked Lily. 'I mean, just so strung by fear. I'd hate it and that ghost is just trouble. Wait til the police catch him.'

'He's a ghost, though,' Johanna said, frowning.

Lily snorted. 'There's no such thing as actual ghosts. He's just some psychopath that runs around and when the police get him, well, he'll be hanged. I'm certain the crowds will be wild –'

'You should watch what you say,' Christian interrupted, glaring at her. The anger was clear in his blue eyes.

The girls silenced and nodded.

'No offence, monsieur, of course,' said Lily quickly, as soon as the shock had worn off of someone who seemed so nice moments ago looking a little murderous. Christian shook his head and kissed Satine quickly on the cheek. 'Where will you be?'

'Oh, I'll find a table and flag you down,' Satine said absently, as if she hadn't heard the past few moments of conversation. She smiled at him and noticed someone else in the crowd, her mouth opening in a bright smile and with that she pushed past the girls, who were still all staring at Christian as though he might go off at them again.

'Good evening,' Christian said charmingly, leaving the conversation with one final glare at Lily, who flushed and narrowed her grey eyes at him as he moved back towards –

The pain in his head flared up again and he became aware of his heart beating in a dull way. What had made him snap at that girl? He needed to forget it, not relive it. He'd been going so well, what had happened?

He was snapped out of his reverie when he walked into someone. He shook his head and looked around, unsure of how he'd gotten to this side of the room and realised he'd been heading for outside. He looked up, ready to apologise –

It was Erik.

--

(scary theme music and sign that says TO BE CONTINUED...) What could happen next time?!

That song is actual from Moulin Rouge, it's called 'Meet Me in the Red Room.'

I watched it again today when my cousin was over and I heard it. It's when Christian's waiting in the Elephant and Satine thinks he's the Duke. When it ended, I said, 'Damn it, there's no real way he'd fall in love with an Opera Ghost, is there?'

My cousin simply stared at me and said, 'It's a movie. I'm pretty certain Nirvana did not exist back then.'

Thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoyed!