Just as Honora was returning home from work, Satie was getting ready to
leave for the Moulin Rouge. He sat on the bed in his suit, shining his
shoes. Honora sighed, unfastening a hair clip and allowing her wavy golden
hair to fall around her shoulders. Satie cleared his throat, slipped on his
shoes, and fixed his hair. Turning around to look at him, Honora sighed and
sat down.
"Satie, we need to talk before you run off to the club." She said softly.
"I wish I could, but tonight I've got some business to attend to." Satie
answered, readjusting his bowtie.
"Please, it's important," Honora began as Satie sighed impatiently and
turned to face her, "I can't live like this. I know that we both wanted to
live free and on our own terms, but this is ridiculous! I was raised to
believe that my husband could support me. Never in my wildest dreams did I
see myself having to work!"
"What do you want me to do about it? I'm trying to adjust here! If this is
what you wanted, then why are you complaining?" Satie shouted.
"Look, I thought this was my dream. I wanted to live with you forever in a
mansion somewhere, not in this run-down garret in the middle of a dirty
city!" She responded while tears of frustration formed in her green eyes.
"Honora, my dream is to become a concert pianist and to compose my own
music. I want people all over the world to love my music!"
"Satie, stop dreaming! You'll never be famous! You can't live in your
fantasy world. If you don't get your act together and just accept the fact
that you're meant to be a tycoon, then I'm leaving!" Honora shouted.
"I'm never going to give up on my dreams!" He responded, grabbing his coat
and opening the door.
"Then don't expect me to be here when you return!" She threatened with a
red face.
*That Evening
It was an awfully slow night at the club. Many of the regular customers were attending the nearby theatre where Oscar Wilde was doing a reading. Zidler decided to close early, almost three hours before the regular closing time. He offered free food and drink to the employees, and then disappeared to his office. Satie sat at the spare piano that sat in the corner of the dance floor. He played around with the smooth ivory keys, avoiding Rosalie. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses distracted him, and he shrugged and decided to join in.
*Later
Satie stumbled into the garret around dawn. Like she had threatened, Honora was not there. A note was laying on the bed, along with the necklace that Satie had given to her on her last birthday.
Dearest Satie: It's not easy leaving you. I've tried to be faithful and I tried to support your dreams of becoming a pianist. But enough is enough. You can't walk around with a silly wish in your head. Sooner or later you will have to face reality. Sadly, you'd have more success becoming a pimp then a musician. I cannot stand by while you ruin both of our lives. This is why I am going back home. My parents have written to me with news that there is a man back home who wishes to marry me. I will gladly be his wife, since I know that he will support me. I know that you are probably hurting now, but you'll understand why I'm doing this when you think about it. Sincerely, Honora.
Confused, Satie laid on the bed. His head was spinning and he felt weak. Passing out, an image of Honora filled his mind.
*The Next Day
"Satie, wake up!" Someone was violently shaking Satie and shouting. Opening his eyes slightly, Satie saw Zidler towering over him. "What's going on?" he responded weakly. "You, young man, are two hours late for work. Luckily there was someone to replace you. What's wrong?" Zidler shouted. "I. I. don't know." Satie gasped, passing out again. Two hours later, Satie woke up to see a doctor checking his pulse. The doctor turned to Zidler and announced that Satie was going through shock and dehydration. "Give him two weeks." The doctor prescribed. "What's going on? Where am I?" Satie gasped, sitting up and looking around. "You're at my house, Satie. You need bed-rest for the next two weeks. You're my most valuable musician, and you'll be staying here until you're better." Harold announced.
*That Evening
It was an awfully slow night at the club. Many of the regular customers were attending the nearby theatre where Oscar Wilde was doing a reading. Zidler decided to close early, almost three hours before the regular closing time. He offered free food and drink to the employees, and then disappeared to his office. Satie sat at the spare piano that sat in the corner of the dance floor. He played around with the smooth ivory keys, avoiding Rosalie. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses distracted him, and he shrugged and decided to join in.
*Later
Satie stumbled into the garret around dawn. Like she had threatened, Honora was not there. A note was laying on the bed, along with the necklace that Satie had given to her on her last birthday.
Dearest Satie: It's not easy leaving you. I've tried to be faithful and I tried to support your dreams of becoming a pianist. But enough is enough. You can't walk around with a silly wish in your head. Sooner or later you will have to face reality. Sadly, you'd have more success becoming a pimp then a musician. I cannot stand by while you ruin both of our lives. This is why I am going back home. My parents have written to me with news that there is a man back home who wishes to marry me. I will gladly be his wife, since I know that he will support me. I know that you are probably hurting now, but you'll understand why I'm doing this when you think about it. Sincerely, Honora.
Confused, Satie laid on the bed. His head was spinning and he felt weak. Passing out, an image of Honora filled his mind.
*The Next Day
"Satie, wake up!" Someone was violently shaking Satie and shouting. Opening his eyes slightly, Satie saw Zidler towering over him. "What's going on?" he responded weakly. "You, young man, are two hours late for work. Luckily there was someone to replace you. What's wrong?" Zidler shouted. "I. I. don't know." Satie gasped, passing out again. Two hours later, Satie woke up to see a doctor checking his pulse. The doctor turned to Zidler and announced that Satie was going through shock and dehydration. "Give him two weeks." The doctor prescribed. "What's going on? Where am I?" Satie gasped, sitting up and looking around. "You're at my house, Satie. You need bed-rest for the next two weeks. You're my most valuable musician, and you'll be staying here until you're better." Harold announced.
