Author's Note: Hey, sorry this took me so long to get out. I'm at a summer program and it's pretty intense so I haven't had much time. Sadly, Moulin Rouge has left theaters but it had one helluva run, neh? Anyway, Toulouse is entering the story now and I just wanted to warn everyone that I tried and failed miserably to write in his accent. So please imagine it, you'll be glad you did and you didn't have to deal with "Bot hee is zo tAHlented" Heh. Please enjoy and standard disclaimers apply.
As it turned out, half the Moulin Rouge was rushing the backstage area to see if Satine was safe. All of us pressing forward in a frenzied mass, wanting to know what had happened. I was still a good distance from the cot where they had placed her, standing on my toes and peering over the shoulders of Jordan and Craig, two American art students who moonlighted as stage hands, when I heard the general release of air.
"She's fine."
"She's awake."
"It was the costume."
I sighed my relief as the crowd began to disperse. Watson, the British stage manager, was already hurrying the dancers and performers back on the main floor to do the Hunkadola. I was able to pick my way among the milling and moving stragglers fast enough to hear Satine faintly cough. Within a few more seconds I was standing at an angle, looking down at Satine and watching Marie's reaction. I stood, hands and arms limp, mouth slightly open, helpless and feeling frightened. Even in the dim candlelight the bright crimson stood out so brightly on the pure white of the handkerchief . . .then it slowly faded into a richer, darker color as the cloth absorbed the blood. I swallowed hard. Maybe, maybe, maybe . . .I thought. Her throat was sore? Raw? She swallowed something the wrong way? The coughing could be a cold. Anything. But not that. No. Satine wouldn't. Would she? It didn't make any sense.
"Don't you breathe a word of this to anyone." Marie's sharp words jerked me from my vacant thoughts and demeanor. I looked at her, briefly taking in her shocked and angry face. I moved my lips but no words were issued. Her face softened. "She'll be fine, Jo." She forced a smile. "It's just a bad cold."
"Yeah, I know." I wanted to be lied to for once. We both were fine with the lie and our private frantic hope. "It's just a cold. Nini had one last week, anyway." Satine lay there, beaded in sweat and breathing lightly.
* * * *
"Scary, what happened with Satine." Gabrielle was wiping off her makeup with a soft cloth. I was counting my earnings for the night while enjoying the bustle surrounding me. For a change many of the girls were quite fine with being confined to a small area, all of us together. It took our minds off "the fall" as it was being called. No matter what feelings any of us had towards Satine, be it amiable or animosity, we all shared the common knowledge that without her . . .the rest of us we most likely out of a job. The way I figured, the Moulin Rouge would not last long once she left. There were too many girls who would compete to get the top spot, try to bargain with Zidler or just flat out leave. And even if there was competition . . .no one wanted to see anyone else break their necks in the middle of an act. According to Arabia, even Nini had looked horrified when Satine took the dive. Then again, there was Mome who had been scowling about Nini all night, saying she had said something about "The Duke not getting his money's worth."
"Yeah. Scary. Stupid costumes." I said softly, distracted. The Duke. What was there about the Duke? I hadn't seen him or the brute following him for some time. He must have been with Satine by now. Over and over in my mind I kept thinking about the blood. People with Consumption coughed blood. Consumption killed. I shook my shoulders and jerked my legs resting on the table, shaking the chair I was leaning into. Harry would never let Satine die. I decided. She was too important to him, financially and personally. There was a paternal affection there.
"Jo, why aren't you off sniffing out Toulouse so the two of you can debate those Bohemian beliefs?" Gabrielle grinned knowingly. I smirked and shrugged, looking away at the pad of paper I held in my hands and glancing at the piled paper bills. She punched my shoulder gently. "Jo, Satine 's fine. She's up there with the Duke." The Duke . . .there was something about the Duke I knew . . ."So where are you coming tonight, anyway Jo?"
"Coming tonight? Where would I be coming to?" I looked up, confused. Half the girls in the room stopped their movement and just flat out stared at me. A slow, creeping feeling of fear slowly took hold of my shoulders. "What? What'd I forget?"
"You idiot!" The onslaught began.
"Didn't you hear!?"
"Joesphine! What kind of a fool are you?!"
"What kind of person ever- EVER! Misses news like THIS?"
"Didn't you hear that the Duke is going to invest?!"
Invest? The Duke had already met with Satine? Had I been that engrossed in counting my earnings? That distracted by thinking about Satine's cough? I usually wasn't that detached from my surroundings . . .granted I had missed Samuel watching me . . .I mustered my most innocent look and smiled faintly.
"He is?" I squeaked.
"Oh my GOD!"
"She didn't know!"
"Jo! What's been wrong with you!?"
"Aren't you going to the party?"
In the back of my brain I vaguely remembered Toulouse slurring an invitation a few hours before. At the time I had been too busy trying to snatch the billfold of a very inebriated Swiss businessman to pay him much attention. And granted, I knew I could easily drop by Toulouse's and enjoy the party which would undoubtedly be composed of mostly patrons and employees of the Moulin Rouge . . .there was just one problem.
If I went to Toulouse's party I was going to wake up next to someone. Oh, I had been very, very carefully warned about Toulouse's parties by Zidler. It was one of the few activities he had "requested" I take no part in.
"I know!" Nini cried with an evil gleam in her eye. "If she isn't doing anything else, she can come to Toulouse's with the rest of us!" I swallowed hard. I might be able to fend of insistent invitations on a 1 on 1 basis, but me against half the Moulin Rouge? I didn't stand a chance. "And she can wear a dress!" Oh, I was going to kill that bit-
"Excuse me?" The soft spoken, polite voice rose over the excited voices of the Dogs. "Is Josephine here?" The fact that there was a young, male voice querying about my whereabouts was enough to cause a general hush to fall over the group. We all turned our heads to where Samuel stood in his loose workman clothes. Battered brown pants and vest, grungy white shirt and tousled black hair. I heard Gabrielle give a near inaudible whistle. He isn't even that handsome, Gabrielle, you foo- "Ladies? Josephine?"
They pointed to where I was sitting, my hands clutching the pad to the point where the paper was gently wrinkling around the deep imprints. He smiled and winked his thanks to the room in general before striding over to my otherwise empty table and, with the driest of smiles, sat. It was that simple.
"Would you care to join me for a late dinner tonight? Since you were busy earlier?" From the corner of my eye I could see Gabrielle staring with her mouth open. The other Dogs and performers were "engaged" in light conversation at this point, a few actually making efforts to give me a little privacy but more allowing their paths of vision to drift slowly over. I blinked.
"Late dinner?"
"Yes, there's a little place down the street that serves decent food until the most ungodly hours." He smiled. I winced inwardly. Spend the night in a dress at Toulouse's and most likely wake up next to some hung over man I didn't know and wouldn't remember . . .or risk giving Samuel and everyone else the wrong idea but getting dinner out of it. As I said, I was known for my infamous sense of practicality.
"Dinner sounds great." Samuel's eyes caught fire and a huge grin bloomed across his face.
"Really?" Despite his glowing expression the words were in the same calm, polite tone he had possessed that afternoon. "Would you care to head off now?"
"Let me get my coat." I said, picking up my separated piles of money, my share and Zidler's cut, and heading down the narrow corridor to my cot. I grabbed my jacket, folded twice as a makeshift pillow, and stowed my night's income under the mattress. I had an account at a legitimate bank but it would be a bit before I could get there, and I was counting on any thieving co-workers being too sloshed at Toulouse's to feel the urge to look for my money. Samuel waited at the end of the hall, running his eyes over the peeling paint and smiling politely at passing performers. We left through the back door.
"I'm sorry the invitation was so abrupt." Samuel said as we stepped out into the chilled evening air. He held the door for me and closed it quietly behind. "Actually, I just wanted to ask you if Satine was all right after her fall, it gave everyone quite a shock. But when I heard them starting to talk about Toulouse's I thought perhaps you might want to do something else." He smiled. "Not that there's anything wrong with Toulouse, his parties just get a mite out of hand, according to my father."
"No, thank you for offering me dinner." I ran a quick hand through my hair, moving a few errant strands from my face. "I know Toulouse and his parties have earned quite a reputation of infamy." I chuckled. " I mean, Toulouse himself is rather infamous."
"Yes . . .he seems to do a few rather strange things. I could have sworn I saw him and a few of his Bohemian friends climbing Satine's elephant a few hours ago." Samuel mentioned as he gazed towards the looming elephant.
"That's funny!" I laughed, also gazing towards the elephant until a moment later my smile froze and a slow, pricking uncertainty grew on the back of my neck. "You-You are kidding aren't you?"
"Well . . .no." He smiled weakly. "I thought I saw four of them climbing up the tail."
"What!? Why didn't you tell Zidler!?" I burst, spinning around to face him, the strangest burning in my eyes. Samuel's mouth was moving but no words were coming out. "What's wrong with you? You know the Duke and Satine were supposed to be up there!"
"I-I thought I saw wrong! B-Besides! Obviously everything went fine between them!"
"You saw . . .how could you see wrong? Samuel, did you or did you not see Toulouse climbing the elephant?" I demanded. I was going to kill this boy for his utter ineptness. To hell with the fact that the Duke already was investing. The point was what could have happened. And when I got my hands on Toulouse's diminutive frame . . . Samuel was sweating now despite the cold and kept rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes flitting over the barren ground.
"I . . .guess I did. He and the others . . . I think there were four. I-I'm sorry." He said, sounding so crestfallen that my anger subsided slightly. I sighed rubbed my eyes wearily.
"Don't worry about it . . ." I sucked in a slow breath and exhaled quickly. "I guess nothing went wrong . . .but if you don't mind, I just want to make sure they still aren't there." I forced a smile. "Not that I'm too worried Satine will let Toulouse throw a party in the elephant . . .it'd just make me feel better."
"I understand completely." He replied, swallowing hard.
* * * *
I led Samuel through the labyrinth of the back stages and passages once again. We wove our way through the maze, climbing numerous cases of stairs and climbing stealthily through the levels of the Moulin Rouge. We passed a few of the older women, former Diamonds from another age, as they put on faded fancy hats and prepared to go out for the evening. For the most part we moved through abandoned, illy-lit halls as most of the employees had long since left for other affairs and areas. Despite the glamour of the dance hall with its bright lights and lies and makeup it was quite the cold and lonely place once the party ended. When I had first come the odd emptiness had caught me off guard, behind me I sensed Samuel reacting the same way. He constantly glanced over his shoulder and tensed at sounds.
"Lonely, no?" I asked softly. Turning I glanced at his face, barely lit by the flickering lamps. He smiled.
"It's strange."
"I know."
"You spend a lot of time here, don't you?" He was now next to me, looking ahead.
"More then most. Except Harold." It was true. Zidler put a lot of time into his beloved nightclub and rarely left.
"Do you get lonely?" There was the purest form of curiosity in his voice, I looked up at him but his eyes remained facing forward. I thought a moment.
"When I first came I was. But I was used to sleeping in a flophouse with people constantly surrounding me. I wasn't used to being alone. Now I'm rather fond of my time alone." Sometimes I wondered how I had lived without it. I enjoyed joking and spending time with most of the other girls, but after a time I thought everyone needed some time to their thoughts. Satine always took hers.
"I noticed." He commented.
"I heard you were watching me."
"You didn't notice?" He grinned.
"Of course I noticed." I lied. "But what was I supposed to do? Attack you?"
"Touche." We went on in silence for a few moments. "Why is it so important to you that the Duke invests?" There was the tone again, with the faintest hint of caring. I sighed and crossed my arms, straightening my spine.
"Because then the Moulin Rouge will become a theater and Satine will be a star." I had thought this explanation over and over in my mind. It felt good for some reason to talk about my thoughts on the subject, everyone else had assumed I was doing no more then my regular duties. "And when that happens . . .I'll be in for a pay raise of sorts. Heavier pockets, you know? And then I'll have enough to go to America, and a little extra."
"You want to go to America?"
"Yes I do."
"What would you do there?"
I chuckled in response and shrugged. "Anything I want. Go to school and be someone. A teacher or doctor perhaps. There are more opportunities in America for women then there are in France." I frowned and inwardly cringed at my pitiful tone with the next words. "I don't want to be like the girls here." Samuel nodded.
"And you would do all of this alone?"
"I would."
"You're brave."
I laughed. "I'm desperate." I joked with a broad smile to match his.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell Harold about Toulouse." He said, the moment gone and his face once again set and serious. I sighed and waved a hand.
"Don't be. I over reacted."
"You had every right to."
"Well he's investing now so nothing happened." I prayed the words over and over in my head as we reached Zidler's observatory. Samuel whistled.
"My father always told me Harold watched over the Moulin Rouge in such a fashion, but I never believed him."
"Harold just likes to make sure everything is going smoothly . . .sometimes fights break out." I was stalling from looking through the telescope. I was being stupid, I knew. But I could not rid myself of a sinking, scared feeling in my stomach.
"Are there many fights?"
"No, but when there are the rich idiots pull pistols. One of the things Harold pays me for is removing the firearms from overly rowdy guests. If they leave calmly I slip them back, if they try to pull them out . . .they're met with an unpleasant surprise." Samuel chuckled at my response. It was always amusing to me when one of those stuffed-shirt egotists shouted and insult and had their hand fly to their inner coat pocket only to find they had no weapon. Very amusing. More so when their opponent made a similar discovery seconds later.
"So . . .are you going check?" Samuel asked politely. He seemed to be nervous standing in Zidler's office. "We could still go out for a quick bite, if you'd like."
"A meal is always welcomed." I said with a smile, grasping the brass hand piece with a slightly shaking hand and bringing my eye to the cold metal. I gasped. The boy who was not the Duke was in the Elephant!
With Satine!
And they were kissing!
Quite passionately. . .and for an extended period of time. Can they breathe? I wondered wildly.
"What!?" Samuel had a hand on my back and was leaning over the telescope, attempting to peer through the dark and see into the elephant. I quickly gathered my wits and replied with the only excuse I could think of.
"Satine and the Duke are still going at it!" Oh that was real smooth Josephine and you call yourself a -
"Are you kidding?"
"No!"
"I didn't think that English-bred bastard would've had the stamina!" We both burst out laughing and I stood , grabbing Samuel's arm and pulling myself next to his side before leading him towards the door. I had learned some ways of dealing with men during my time at the Moulin Rouge and I had to stop him from looking through that scope. He came willingly.
"So where do you want to eat?" He asked, placing his hand on my arm.
"Oh," I replied trying for the most convincing carefree tone I could muster. "I don't care."
* * * *
"So I heard you were out with Samuel last night, Jo." Satine was sporting a devilish grin as I brought her lunch into the dressing room. I felt my face turn red. She chuckled. "He's quite the looker. The other girls were telling me how he walked right in and swept you off your feet to dinner." The heat from my face was spreading rapidly towards the back of my neck. "And if I'm not mistaken . . ." Her feral grin was edging towards her ears. "This is the first time you've come here since you left . . .where were you all night?" What did she want me to say? That I was doing the same thing she and whoever-he-was were doing in the elephant?
"We were talking." I said simply. She raised her infamous eyebrow.
"Talking? After you took him on that tour for over three hours?" My hands had clenched into fists that were trembling at my side. She smiled kindly. "I'm only teasing, Jo. Don't be cross. You must understand that after so many months of your brand of teasing that you're going to get a little back."
"We were talking. And I don't like him"
"What color are his eyes?"
"Green." I blurted out before catching myself. Satine turned her back to me, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
"So what did you two . . .talk . . .about?"
I sighed and resigned myself to the fate I had spent eight months designing. "We talked mostly about the Bohemian dogma and books. We ate at this little café a few blocks over, I don't remember the name." I yawned. "He's very smart." Satine smiled and reached for a roll.
"Oh?"
"Yes, and very talented." I swore I saw her smile waver for a moment.
"Talented?"
"We walked to his father's tailor shop and he showed me some of the costumes he's been working on. They're amazing." I explained, surprised as Satine's serene expression returned. "So what happened last night?" Her eye twitched.
"What happened?"
"Yeah, with the fall? You ok?" I asked, deeply enjoying her growing paranoia on some sick level.
"Oh! I'm fine, it's so silly. My costume was too tight."
"Well here's the little Juliet!" A familiar bray broke into the room and I turned to smile at Mome lumbered inside. "Where's Romeo?"
"Samuel is waiting outside for her, she just told me that they're running off to America together!" Satine joked. Mome burst into laughter. Rolling my eyes and heaving a dramatic sigh I replied with the driest of tones.
"Oh yes. We're running off to America together and we're going to open a tailor shop in New York City. And we're going to get married and have ten children!" They were laughing so hard now that even I couldn't manage not to smile. I suppose if I were teasing someone else it would be just as funny. Better to laugh with them then be laughed at. When they calmed down Mome remembered what she had come to tell us.
"Harold is giving the official announcement this afternoon and would like everyone to come."
"Assuming they're not all hung over from Toulouse's party, right?" I asked with a mischievous grin. "How was it, anyway?"
Mome smiled, quite pleased with herself for one reason or another. "Quite fun, Jo. You really should come to one sometime." She clucked her tongue. "The way that Argentinean and Elizabeth were going at it. You really wouldn't believe . . .Oh, but Satine! I didn't see you there! Where were you? The Duke left long before the party ended." I could tell instantly by Mome's tone that she was not looking for gossip, she sounded concerned. "Were you resting because of your swoon?" This led me to an ultimate conclusion. "I was worried." No one else saw Satine with the man who was not the Duke.
Because if they had, it would have spread like wildfire and Mome would be asking directly about it.
Satine flashed the smile she gave Harold when he needed to be reassured that nothing was going to go horribly, horribly wrong. "Oh, that's kind of you. Yes, I was just resting."
"You really have been pushing yourself too hard lately, Satine." I piped up. Mome nodded.
"Honestly, Satine. You must take better care of yourself! Besides . . ." She grinned evilly. "If those costumes are giving you so much trouble we can always have Jo ask her lover-boy to fix it for you if his father's away." The red face returned. Mome winked at me and cackled. "Right Jo?"
"I hate the both of you." I groaned, ducking out of the room and heading for my cot.
"Hey!" Oh hell. "And where were you last night, Josephina?"
"It's Gussieppina if you want to mimic Italian you-" I began with a sneer before Gabrielle caught my shoulder.
"Don't." She whispered. "Nini is just in a bad mood."
"Josephina! Were you out doing what you despise us for doing? Huh?"
Gabrielle dragged me down the hall, away from Nini and the snickering crowd of onlookers. As we passed Watson he leered 'knowingly'. "They know you didn't sleep with him." Gabrielle said. "So don't take it too personally. And Nini is still fuming about Samuel commenting she might have Syphilis."
"What's the situation with the Duke?" I asked, changing the subject.
"He'll be here for Harold's announcement." She coughed. "So . . .what did you two do?"
"Talked. How was Toulouse's party?"
"Wild, they always are. Satine never showed though which was a little strange. And there was some kind of row up in the elephant."
"Was there?" I asked, confused. I hadn't seen anything the night before . . .well, nothing that I wouldn't have heard about already if it had caused a row. Gabrielle grinned.
"I think it has something to so with Spectacular, Spectacular?"
"What's that?"
"What's that? Jo! Where has your head been? It's the reason Toulouse threw the party last night!" I frowned at her response. I had been so sure that he had been saying through his slurred, thick accent 'Todd sold his great Spatula, Spatula'. He had said stranger things while meeting with the Green Fairy.
"I thought he was celebrating the Duke's investment . . ."
"Oh!" She cried. "He was! But you see, Jo, the reason he invested is because Satine, Harold, Toulouse and the Bohemians pitched him this new play that's all about the Bohemian ideals! But that's all I know. Harold is saying more this afternoon. But something really big is going to happen."
I groaned. "That means Audrey is going to be prancing about like he always does." Whenever he was writing one of his shows he strutted up and down the halls of the Moulin Rouge, snapping orders and acting the role of the prima donna. He failed to comprehend the simple fact that the hordes of 'fans' were men who came to see Satine, not listen to his hack writing. Briefly, I wondered what it would be like to live in such a world of delusion.
Gabrielle slapped me on the back. "Perhaps!" She cawed, obviously trying stifle her laughter. "But it will also give you and lover-boy lots of time together if he's working on the costumes. She took off with such speed that it took me a full minute run her down and slap her on the back of the head.
* * * *
"And furthermore!" Harold was braying. Samuel and I were sitting at a table far in the back of the hall with Gabrielle, Lucile and Wesley. For the most part the hall was empty, many of the denizens of the Moulin Rouge still recovering from Toulouse's party. I managed to catch a glimpse of Satine as she flashed two very different smiles in quick succession.
"Satine is acting strangely." I muttered, causing Wesley and Samuel to raise their eyebrows at me. We had stopped paying attention long ago. There had been a long speech about a 'new era' for the Moulin Rouge and that he was expecting all of us to pitch in for the "good of the group". The Duke had said a few words about discipline and how grateful we should be. He also was kind enough to introduce us to "His manservant. Warner."
"Bet me and Paul could take Warner." Wesley had hissed as the bald mammoth stood, pulling his vest back just far enough for even we in the back to see the silver glint of his gun.
"Bet I could get his gun before he shot you." I had grinned.
But we all knew Zidler and new he would save the best for last. "Leave with a bang." Was his personal motto (as well as the unofficial motto of the Moulin Rouge among the crude well-to-do patrons). And sure enough, his voice was rising to crescendo. "Into a theater!" He held up a model as Gabrielle and I slapped hands happily. The boys grinned and nodded. "Totally Bohemian . . ." Harold was singing the praises as Samuel leaned over and whispered to me.
"I spoke to Harold before the meeting, I'll be working with my father on the costumes. The play is going to be about India!" I smiled, happy for him, while at the same time wondering how Audrey had ever decided to come up with a location so exotic. He always wrote about European locations and I was almost positive that he had said his next 'masterpiece' would be placed in Switzerland . . .
BOOM! Suddenly a giant ball burst through the wall behind Harold as we screamed and leapt from our chairs. I was vaguely aware of Paul pulling Gabrielle back as Samuel took my shoulder. White plaster rained down from the shattered wall as bricks toppled backwards out of the building. It was from this shower of dust and debris from which Harold rose triumphantly, covered in the remnant of the wall and cried:
"The show must go on!"
"I don't care what anyone says!" Paul exclaimed. "He takes this 'show must go on' crap too far!"
"Agreed!" Gabrielle and I said simultaneously. The meeting broke up and I caught sight of Toulouse.
"I'll see you all later." I called, making my way across the empty hall to catch him. I saw that he already held a half drained bottle of absinthe even though it was only mid-afternoon. I sighed inwardly, while there was nothing wrong with a glass of absinthe every now and then, it didn't do well to be stumbling around dead drunk one's whole life. The 'genius' would drink himself into an early grave. "Toulouse!" I hailed him. He turned, looking a bit dazed and smiled.
"Josephine! I didn't see you last night!"
"Oh, I was out with Samuel. We were getting some dinner."
"Samuel?" He crooned, grinning broadly. "Oh yes, yes. Marcel's absolutely delightful son! Yes, he's going to be helping us with the costumes for Spectacular, Spectacular! Have you heard about it yet?"
"Yes, Gabrielle told me that Audrey is having it take place in Switzerland." I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. "I must admit, I never thought he'd write something that took place outside of Europe!"
Toulouse chuckled and clapped me on my elbow. "Audrey? Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, Josephine! Audrey isn't writing this! We've a new writer from England! A most talented one too! Christian!" He seemed to be calling to someone behind me as well as speaking the name.
"Audrey 's gone!?" Toulouse looked a bit confused by my joyous tone. THAT bit of news was going to be met with similar reactions. I was already imagining the toast I'd have with some of the girls. "Oh . . .I'm, uh . . .sorry Toulouse."
"It's no problem, really. A most paradoxical quandary! But Audrey's loss is our gain, I just know you'll love Christian's work! Would you like to meet him?"
"Absolutely! And Toulouse . . ."
"Yes, Josephine?"
"If I ever hear about you climbing on the elephant again, I'll kill you."
He smiled weakly. "W-what ever are you talking about?"
I grinned. It wasn't worth it. "Nevermind."
"Ah! There he is! Christian! There's someone I'd like you to meet!" I turned to look at the new writer.
And in that moment learned that I was as good of an actress as Satine.
Author's Note: Not the best ending for a chapter, I know. But I'm itching for an ending spot and this is the best I can come up with. Until next time.