The two men walked away and still Alyse stood there, not sure what to do. This was a first for her. And Zidler had run off with the rest of the people who'd come for the audition--who knew where they'd gone, when he'd be back? The noise of a typewriter interrupted her thoughts, and she looked over to where Christian sat, staring intently at the paper in front of him. She walked towards him.

He knew she was there without having to look up. "Congratulations," he said, concentrating on a sentence.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I don't--I don't really believe that this just happened."

He glanced up. She looked overwhelmed, and despite himself, he felt a tiny crack open in the walls around his heart. "It's a lot to handle all at once, isn't it?" he asked, setting back in his chair and turning towards her.

She nodded. "Yes." She blew out a breath and stopped in front of his table. "I came here expecting nothing, hoping for some sort of background role. And I have a 15 minute audition, and I get--" her voice trailed off, and her arms lifted up, encompassing the building, then fell back to her sides. "I get all of this. How did this happen?"

Christian looked at her for a moment, sorting out his words. He lit a cigarette as he thought, and when the right words came, he inhaled and then said, "Zidler has a knack for seeing talent. He may seem callous and loud, but he's very shrewd. It's all about business for him. He knows a talented unknown will draw in the crowds, and that a beautiful, talented unknown will draw even more. It doesn't hurt that you have a wonderful singing voice, you kept up with the Argentinean's dancing--" which was certainly no small feat, he thought, as the Argentinean moved like a mad man, "--and it hardly appeared you were acting in the scene you had with Zidler, but more became the part."

Alyse blushed again. "Well, thank you, that's very kind..."

"It's true. I don't--I don't think anyone else could play Julia. You seem very right for the role." He held his breath a moment, praying once again that someone wouldn't make the connection between the girl in the play and the girl in front of him.

She nodded. She looked at him. He looked at her. She twisted her hands in front of her and then finally the words burst out before she could stop them. "Yesterday...why didn't you tell me who you were?"

The crack in Christian's heart snicked shut like a door slamming. He ground out his cigarette and looked away from her. "I didn't think it was relevant."

"But...I was sitting there, with your book, telling you how much it inspired me..."

He shook his head. "Very few people know I wrote that book. I wasn't about to go telling a stranger just because she was reading it in a cafe."

She stared at him, and he pointedly avoided her eyes, picking up pages off of his table and flipping through them. When she spoke again, her voice was tight. "You lied."

"Pardon me?" He still didn't look up.

"When you said you hadn't read the book. You lied."

He looked up at this statement. She didn't think he was going to answer, and she thought she would die of mortification, but then he coughed a little and said, "No, I didn't lie."

Alyse stared at him again, and then blurted, "But--how is that possible? You wrote it!"

Christian met her eyes, and for a moment she saw everything--the bleakness, the pain, the sadness in his soul. Her heart ached for him.

"Exactly," he said softly. "I wrote it. I lived it." He sat for another moment, then abruptly gathered his papers together. "Excuse me, I have to..." He didn't even finish the sentence, just walked away quickly. Alyse suddenly felt incredibly guilty for even mentioning the book. She kept standing there, not sure what she was supposed to do, when a voice at her side made her start.

"His heart isn't whole yet."

She turned towards the voice, and then looked down. "I'm sorry?" she said to Toulouse.

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, I hope it doesn't bother you. I just wanted you to know that he still hasn't healed. His heart isn't whole." The little man spoke in a thick accent, but she had no trouble understanding.

She sighed. "I didn't mean to upset him. I just--we met yesterday and I had his book, and he never said anything about it...and then to come here today and find out..."

Toulouse nodded and took a drink from his bottle. "This is the first time he's been here since Satine died."

She turned to face him, shock clearly etched on her face. "What?"

"He hasn't been back since the opening of 'Spectacular, Spectacular'. When she died in his arms." Toulouse sniffled a little. "He swore to me, he said, Toulouse, I'll never go back, not for anything. I don't know what changed his mind, but this was his first day."

Alyse's heart broke a little more for Christian. Here it was, the first time he'd been back to the place where the love of his life died, and she had to pound him over the head with memories. "Thank you for telling me," she said to Toulouse.

He smiled. "I live upstairs, you know," he said, motioning in the vague direction of the building across the street. "You should come up to one of my parties sometime."

"I will," she promised. Toulouse strolled off just as Zidler came bustling back into the grand room. "There you are, darling!" he called to Alyse, and motioned her along. "You must come with me, we have much to discuss!"