Sunlight streamed in through the grimy window. Christian opened his
eyes and rolled over to see Satine's fiery red hair next to him. The CD
player was still playing Mozart, and the wine bottle, half-empty, sat on a
table next to the bed. He sighed, smiling, and breathed in Satine's
wonderful smell.
She breathed in deeply, opened her eyes, and rolled over to see Christian watching her sleep. She smiled.
"G'morning," she said, stretching.
"Good morning." He kissed her on the cheek, then threw back the covers and got out of bed, throwing his boxers on as he did so. Satine followed suit, quickly putting on her clothes. They turned off the music, and went to the door together.
"I love you," Christian said, kissing her.
"I love you, too."
They hurriedly went out the door and rushed to hail a cab. It was still early, so they got one quickly, hurried inside, then directed the driver to the Club Rouge. They had rehearsals they were already . . . ten minutes late for!
Christian rushed behind Satine as the ran to make it to rehearsals before Zibler blew a fuse. Satine stopped Christian so she could go in first. She made her way in, and Christian hung back, waiting so people would not suspect their romance.
Five minutes went by, and Christian decided to go inside.
He made his way to the performance hall, to find everyone deep in rehearsal. No one even noticed him come in. Satine was in place on stage, apparently unharmed. Christian walked up to sit with Zibler, as he was not in this scene.
"Where the hell have you been, Londen?" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his eye on the performers.
"I . . . overslept."
"Bullshit."
Christian looked at him. Did he know? He decided to play it cool.
"What do you mean?"
"Just answer these questions. If you don't say yes to any of these questions, then you're okay with me. If you say yes to one or more, then you're a fucking, back-stabbing, ass hole."
Christian gulped.
"Are you working somewhere else?"
He shook his head.
"Are you gay?"
"No."
"Are you dating one of my dancers?"
He caught his breath, looking at Satine. He quickly looked away, and said, "No."
"If I find out you're lying to me . . ."
Christian inhaled deeply, "All right, I'm seeing . . ."
"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"
A piercing scream echoed in the auditorium. Nellie, the annoying whore, was gaping at a space in the wall.
Everyone rushed over to her, looking in the wall. Duke had his pants down around his ankles, and was thrusting into a naked cancan girl from behind. They were obviously engaged in an act that was quite common around the club. Satine gasped.
"My dear," Duke said, pulling his pants up and rushing out into the room, dropping the other girl onto the ground, "Please, hear me . . ."
"I thought you loved me," Satine sobbed. She really was an amazing actress.
"I do, but I am a man, and I do have needs."
Satine gaped at him. "So that gives you a right to sleep with another girl?"
It was Duke's turn to look surprised. "You're a PROSTITUTE!!" he screamed, "You have been fucking other men for years! I have a right to screw any damned whore I want!"
Satine straightened up. "Fine. Forget about ever being with me."
Duke grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss. "Do not forget you are bound to me by a contract. You will come to me tonight for dinner, and you will come to my bed and you WILL let me have you," he whispered only to her. He then kissed her roughly and threw her back toward the stage.
"Rehearsals will continue as scheduled," Duke said, enunciating every word, "And the show will be ready by next week. Or, the Club Rouge will be mine."
With that, he left. The performers all stood there, watching Satine pretend to cry. Zibler took her aside, whispered something to her, then sent her back up to the stage to continue the rehearsal. Christian looked relieved that Zibler had forgotten about their conversation, and began to direct the scene, fixing things that hadn't been fixed, and correcting dancers when they missed their cues.
"That's it," Zibler said at the end of the day, rather subdued, "We're done for today. Everybody just . . . go home."
The performers packed up and prepared to leave. Satine wandered over to where Christian was waiting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. They both laughed, and Christian whispered, "I suppose you can't come to my apartment tonight?"
Satine shook her head. "I have to go to Duke. He'll shut us down if he thinks I'm screwing around."
Christian looked at her oddly. "Is that all you're doing . . . with me? Is that what this is? You're just 'screwing around?'"
Satine shook her head again. "No, Chris, that's not what I'm doing at all."
"Do you love me?"
"What?"
"Do you love me?"
Satine looked at him a moment, then said, "Yes. Without a doubt." They kissed again, then Zibler called, "Satine . . . Satine, bluebird, where are you?"
"I'll call you," she said, kissing him again. Christian stared at her as she walked away, then left himself.
Little did they know that Zibler had seen everything.
"What is it, Harry?" Satine asked innocently.
"My office, five o'clock. Be ready to see Mister Duke."
"Well, all right, I just . . ."
"No!" he grabbed her wrist sharply. "You will be in my office at five o'clock or I will personally see that the writer is fired. Do you hear me? Fired!" he hissed into her ear. He then let go of her wrist and added, "You think no one knows? Everyone knows. Everyone except Duke." Then he walked away.
Shit, Satine thought, we're screwed.
***********************************************************************
Oh, no, is Satine right? Are they screwed? You'll have to read my next chapter and find out, mwahahahaha! There's that evil laugh again. I hope you keep reading (and reviewing, the button is just right there!), because it just got interesting!
~Evie
She breathed in deeply, opened her eyes, and rolled over to see Christian watching her sleep. She smiled.
"G'morning," she said, stretching.
"Good morning." He kissed her on the cheek, then threw back the covers and got out of bed, throwing his boxers on as he did so. Satine followed suit, quickly putting on her clothes. They turned off the music, and went to the door together.
"I love you," Christian said, kissing her.
"I love you, too."
They hurriedly went out the door and rushed to hail a cab. It was still early, so they got one quickly, hurried inside, then directed the driver to the Club Rouge. They had rehearsals they were already . . . ten minutes late for!
Christian rushed behind Satine as the ran to make it to rehearsals before Zibler blew a fuse. Satine stopped Christian so she could go in first. She made her way in, and Christian hung back, waiting so people would not suspect their romance.
Five minutes went by, and Christian decided to go inside.
He made his way to the performance hall, to find everyone deep in rehearsal. No one even noticed him come in. Satine was in place on stage, apparently unharmed. Christian walked up to sit with Zibler, as he was not in this scene.
"Where the hell have you been, Londen?" he hissed out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his eye on the performers.
"I . . . overslept."
"Bullshit."
Christian looked at him. Did he know? He decided to play it cool.
"What do you mean?"
"Just answer these questions. If you don't say yes to any of these questions, then you're okay with me. If you say yes to one or more, then you're a fucking, back-stabbing, ass hole."
Christian gulped.
"Are you working somewhere else?"
He shook his head.
"Are you gay?"
"No."
"Are you dating one of my dancers?"
He caught his breath, looking at Satine. He quickly looked away, and said, "No."
"If I find out you're lying to me . . ."
Christian inhaled deeply, "All right, I'm seeing . . ."
"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"
A piercing scream echoed in the auditorium. Nellie, the annoying whore, was gaping at a space in the wall.
Everyone rushed over to her, looking in the wall. Duke had his pants down around his ankles, and was thrusting into a naked cancan girl from behind. They were obviously engaged in an act that was quite common around the club. Satine gasped.
"My dear," Duke said, pulling his pants up and rushing out into the room, dropping the other girl onto the ground, "Please, hear me . . ."
"I thought you loved me," Satine sobbed. She really was an amazing actress.
"I do, but I am a man, and I do have needs."
Satine gaped at him. "So that gives you a right to sleep with another girl?"
It was Duke's turn to look surprised. "You're a PROSTITUTE!!" he screamed, "You have been fucking other men for years! I have a right to screw any damned whore I want!"
Satine straightened up. "Fine. Forget about ever being with me."
Duke grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a kiss. "Do not forget you are bound to me by a contract. You will come to me tonight for dinner, and you will come to my bed and you WILL let me have you," he whispered only to her. He then kissed her roughly and threw her back toward the stage.
"Rehearsals will continue as scheduled," Duke said, enunciating every word, "And the show will be ready by next week. Or, the Club Rouge will be mine."
With that, he left. The performers all stood there, watching Satine pretend to cry. Zibler took her aside, whispered something to her, then sent her back up to the stage to continue the rehearsal. Christian looked relieved that Zibler had forgotten about their conversation, and began to direct the scene, fixing things that hadn't been fixed, and correcting dancers when they missed their cues.
"That's it," Zibler said at the end of the day, rather subdued, "We're done for today. Everybody just . . . go home."
The performers packed up and prepared to leave. Satine wandered over to where Christian was waiting. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. They both laughed, and Christian whispered, "I suppose you can't come to my apartment tonight?"
Satine shook her head. "I have to go to Duke. He'll shut us down if he thinks I'm screwing around."
Christian looked at her oddly. "Is that all you're doing . . . with me? Is that what this is? You're just 'screwing around?'"
Satine shook her head again. "No, Chris, that's not what I'm doing at all."
"Do you love me?"
"What?"
"Do you love me?"
Satine looked at him a moment, then said, "Yes. Without a doubt." They kissed again, then Zibler called, "Satine . . . Satine, bluebird, where are you?"
"I'll call you," she said, kissing him again. Christian stared at her as she walked away, then left himself.
Little did they know that Zibler had seen everything.
"What is it, Harry?" Satine asked innocently.
"My office, five o'clock. Be ready to see Mister Duke."
"Well, all right, I just . . ."
"No!" he grabbed her wrist sharply. "You will be in my office at five o'clock or I will personally see that the writer is fired. Do you hear me? Fired!" he hissed into her ear. He then let go of her wrist and added, "You think no one knows? Everyone knows. Everyone except Duke." Then he walked away.
Shit, Satine thought, we're screwed.
***********************************************************************
Oh, no, is Satine right? Are they screwed? You'll have to read my next chapter and find out, mwahahahaha! There's that evil laugh again. I hope you keep reading (and reviewing, the button is just right there!), because it just got interesting!
~Evie
