Christian whipped the crisp paper out of the typewriter. He had fufilled
his promise to Satine by writing their story. He slumped into the chair,
staring at the first few words he had written: "The greatest thing you'll
ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." He threw the paper onto
the bed, where it joined the rest of the story, and reached for his
familiar bottle of Absinthe, the only thing that had been his friend in the
past five months since Satine's death. Taking a swig, he stared out the
window and gazed upon the crippled Moulin Rouge. For months he had refused
to look at it, for fear that the memories would return. This time was
different though. As his eyes looked over the millions of lightbulbs and
the rusted marquee, a warm and friendly feeling came over him. Glancing to
the side of the marquee, he saw the gigantic elephant where he and Satine
had first kissed. Tears came to his eyes as he remembered singing, "I hope
you don't mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're
in the world." to his beloved as she looked at him in awe.
A knock on the door startled Christian, and he wiped away the tears as he silently said, "Who's there?" "Christian, it's Chocolat. Can I come in?" said an all-too-familiar voice.
The door creaked open, and Christian could see the dark dancer who looked out for Satine, the one who had caught her when she fell from her trapeze during "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" routine. Chocolat entered the small, paper-strewn room and closed the door. He stood against the door with a melancholy look on his face.
"I don't mean to bother you, but there's something I think you should know..." Chocolat said quietly, looking at the floor. "What is it? Is everything alright?" Christian asked, not moving from his desk.
Chocolat held out a rose-colored hatbox with Satine's name embroidered in a silvery thread on the lid. As he moved towards Christian to give him the box, he spoke while tears streamed down his face, "We finished clearing out Mademoiselle Satine's belongings and we were about to sell this. Nini opened it and instead of finding a hat, there was another box inside with your name on it. We wanted you to have it."
Christian rose out of his chair slightly and took the box from Chocolat's outstretched hands. He thanked him, and Chocolat left. Christian set the box on his desk and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. He looked around his room with a look of disgust and began to clean up. Dozens of empty Absinthe bottles, candle wax, torn paper, and dirty dishes littered every orafice of his quarters. Within two hours, the room looked just as it had when Christian first moved in. He turned towards his desk, spotting the hatbox. Bringing it with him to the bed, he ran his fingertips over Satine's name, remembering a million things about her. Reaching into the box, he removed a plain brown cardboard box with "Christian" written on it sloppily, as if it had been written in a hurry.
Ripping open the box, Christian caught a whiff of Satine's perfume rising from it. Pausing for a few moments, Christian closed his eyes and remembered how beautiful Satine always looked. She was always perfect to Christian, even when she was crying and her mascara ran down her cheeks, leaving black streaks on her face. Looking into the brown box, he saw a small vial of the sweet perfume. He picked it out of the box and opened the lid, taking in the subtle notes of vanilla, rose, and oak. Gently placing the perfume aside, he reached into the box and retrieved a pink feather. At first, Christian wanted to throw it out, but then he realized that the feather had come from Satine's outfit from Christian's first night at the Moulin Rouge. It too smelled like Satine's perfume. Christian pulled out ten other items before finding an envelope at the bottom of the box: three gold rings, a black hand fan, a diamond necklace, a small picture of Sarah Bernhardt, a wilted rose, two pairs of earrings, and a five-franc note.
Placing the items with the perfume and the feather, Christian picked up the envelope. It wasn't sealed, but his name was written on the front. He leaned back on his bed, against the pillows, and began to read the letter inside:
"Dearest Christian, If you are reading this, then my plan is starting to work. As I write, you are still asleep and it is almost seven o'clock in the morning. The sun rose about an hour ago, and it's rays are reflecting off you're handsome face. I know that you will soon be waking up and we will spend the day in each other's arms, but I just wanted you to know that I will always love you. Because I love you, I cannot lie to you anymore. I know that you are probably mourning me, but I want you to know that I am not dead..."
Christian stared at the letter in shock and disbelief. She wasn't dead?! He continued to read.
"When we first met, almost five months ago in June, I found out that the Moulin Rouge was going through financial problems due to Harold's over- spending on redecoration and electrification of the nightclub. Since I was the star courtesan, there was pressure on me to sleep with rich financiers who might in turn give their money to Harold so we could stay open. There was talk about a very rich Duke, but we never knew that he'd take an interest in the Moulin Rouge, but we don't need to go into that story again. Anyway, I was feeling cheap and used when I met you, but you turned my world around and I found reason to live. I don't want to keep our love a secret anymore, and I've come up with a plan to save us. With the tips that I get, I've paid the doctor and Marie to make people believe that I have consumption. On the opening night of our play, I will 'die' in your arms. Don't worry darling. I don't know when you are reading this, but I want you to know that I will be waiting at the Bar Absinthe on April 20, 1900. You will find me at table number 3, but I cannot guarantee if I will be wearing a disguise or not. I love you and I am waiting for you. -Satine"
His eyes wide with surprise and shock, Christian stared at the date on the letter. Was Satine really alive? Was this a trick?
A knock on the door startled Christian, and he wiped away the tears as he silently said, "Who's there?" "Christian, it's Chocolat. Can I come in?" said an all-too-familiar voice.
The door creaked open, and Christian could see the dark dancer who looked out for Satine, the one who had caught her when she fell from her trapeze during "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" routine. Chocolat entered the small, paper-strewn room and closed the door. He stood against the door with a melancholy look on his face.
"I don't mean to bother you, but there's something I think you should know..." Chocolat said quietly, looking at the floor. "What is it? Is everything alright?" Christian asked, not moving from his desk.
Chocolat held out a rose-colored hatbox with Satine's name embroidered in a silvery thread on the lid. As he moved towards Christian to give him the box, he spoke while tears streamed down his face, "We finished clearing out Mademoiselle Satine's belongings and we were about to sell this. Nini opened it and instead of finding a hat, there was another box inside with your name on it. We wanted you to have it."
Christian rose out of his chair slightly and took the box from Chocolat's outstretched hands. He thanked him, and Chocolat left. Christian set the box on his desk and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. He looked around his room with a look of disgust and began to clean up. Dozens of empty Absinthe bottles, candle wax, torn paper, and dirty dishes littered every orafice of his quarters. Within two hours, the room looked just as it had when Christian first moved in. He turned towards his desk, spotting the hatbox. Bringing it with him to the bed, he ran his fingertips over Satine's name, remembering a million things about her. Reaching into the box, he removed a plain brown cardboard box with "Christian" written on it sloppily, as if it had been written in a hurry.
Ripping open the box, Christian caught a whiff of Satine's perfume rising from it. Pausing for a few moments, Christian closed his eyes and remembered how beautiful Satine always looked. She was always perfect to Christian, even when she was crying and her mascara ran down her cheeks, leaving black streaks on her face. Looking into the brown box, he saw a small vial of the sweet perfume. He picked it out of the box and opened the lid, taking in the subtle notes of vanilla, rose, and oak. Gently placing the perfume aside, he reached into the box and retrieved a pink feather. At first, Christian wanted to throw it out, but then he realized that the feather had come from Satine's outfit from Christian's first night at the Moulin Rouge. It too smelled like Satine's perfume. Christian pulled out ten other items before finding an envelope at the bottom of the box: three gold rings, a black hand fan, a diamond necklace, a small picture of Sarah Bernhardt, a wilted rose, two pairs of earrings, and a five-franc note.
Placing the items with the perfume and the feather, Christian picked up the envelope. It wasn't sealed, but his name was written on the front. He leaned back on his bed, against the pillows, and began to read the letter inside:
"Dearest Christian, If you are reading this, then my plan is starting to work. As I write, you are still asleep and it is almost seven o'clock in the morning. The sun rose about an hour ago, and it's rays are reflecting off you're handsome face. I know that you will soon be waking up and we will spend the day in each other's arms, but I just wanted you to know that I will always love you. Because I love you, I cannot lie to you anymore. I know that you are probably mourning me, but I want you to know that I am not dead..."
Christian stared at the letter in shock and disbelief. She wasn't dead?! He continued to read.
"When we first met, almost five months ago in June, I found out that the Moulin Rouge was going through financial problems due to Harold's over- spending on redecoration and electrification of the nightclub. Since I was the star courtesan, there was pressure on me to sleep with rich financiers who might in turn give their money to Harold so we could stay open. There was talk about a very rich Duke, but we never knew that he'd take an interest in the Moulin Rouge, but we don't need to go into that story again. Anyway, I was feeling cheap and used when I met you, but you turned my world around and I found reason to live. I don't want to keep our love a secret anymore, and I've come up with a plan to save us. With the tips that I get, I've paid the doctor and Marie to make people believe that I have consumption. On the opening night of our play, I will 'die' in your arms. Don't worry darling. I don't know when you are reading this, but I want you to know that I will be waiting at the Bar Absinthe on April 20, 1900. You will find me at table number 3, but I cannot guarantee if I will be wearing a disguise or not. I love you and I am waiting for you. -Satine"
His eyes wide with surprise and shock, Christian stared at the date on the letter. Was Satine really alive? Was this a trick?