Vegas, Baby!
MoshPit
Christian had been in the Moulin Rouge for a whole five minutes, and he still had not found his head. Doc had shown the young man to the backstage area and delivered him directly into the arms of an exuberant Argentinean clad in a leotard and armed with a bucket of ice. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that. The Argentinean identified himself as Manuel and led Christian to a dressing room full of young women in what seemed to be their underwear. He had blushed furiously, and tried to make a speedy escape.
"No, no!" Manuel had smiled. "These are the dancers. They normally do not have these many clothes on, but it is a special night." He left Christian with a smile, a wink, and an ice bucket, surrounded by scantily clad women. This is where we find him now; with a fevered mind, a swollen knee, and a melting bucket of ice.
"It has been an odd day." One of the dancers near him, a short, slender woman with short red hair and a bright red dress, laughed, smearing her deep crimson lipstick in the process.
"You an' me both, honey, you an' me both." She had a surprisingly deep voice for one so small, and it had a slight northeastern accent to it. Christian's lip twitched, hinting at a smile.
"I was hit by a car with a lighting designer in it," he said with a touch of smugness. The dancer chewed her lip for a moment in thought.
"Yeah, ok, you beat me. My name's Amelia. How 'bout you?" Christian took the woman's outstretched hand with a shy smile.
"It's Christian, but you make one crack about Allah or Buddha and I swear I'll make you call me Matt."
"…Mark Luke John?" Amelia smiled as the young man threw his hands over his head in defeat. "I'm just playing with you, sweetie. Hey," she added, glancing at her watch, "The show's gonna start in say… three minutes. You gonna watch?" Christian furrowed his brow. Could he? Should he? Did he dare take the risk of turning into a giant tomato caused by excessive blushing?
"Come on!" Amelia pleaded, noting his hesitation. "It wouldn't be Vegas without a show, and it certainly wouldn't be a trip to the Rouge without seeing the Sparkling Diamond. And, I'll buy you a drink. Pwease?" She stuck out her lower lip as far as it would go, bowed her head, and brought out the big guns; her gigantic, soft brown eyes. Christian couldn't resist.
"Fine." He grabbed a cap with the words 'All hail Dukeham Productions!' stitched on it (no need to risk anyone recognizing him, after all) and followed the dancer out the door.
&*&*&*&*&
'One minute left. You are O. K. It's just like another rehearsal. No reason to get flipped. Just. Breathe.' It was so quiet there, behind the curtain, so serene. The heavy red velvet buffered the sound, keeping the overwhelming roar of the restless audience from engulfing her. She was Satine now; calm, confident, cool. Nothing could stop her now.
And yet there she sat, hunched on her tiny stool as provocatively as possible, ticking away the seconds till curtain, resisting every urge to kick off her spangely heels and run away. But she couldn't, not now, not when she was so close…
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amelia approach the right wing, the one not crowded with dancers waiting for their cues. A man hobbled up behind her.
So that was Dukeham. It had to have been, he was wearing a D.P. hat. She had never seen his picture, so she wasn't quite sure what to expect, but she couldn't help being surprised by his appearance. He was younger that she had expected a well-known producer/director could be. Bits of dark hair shot out from under his cap. He had a round face, the remnants of baby fat that had never gone away, she supposed.
Panic overtook her. Tonight was the real deal, not just another rehearsal. Dukeham was really here, and her whole future rested on tonight's performance. She had to get away, leave before he could ever see her. If she just got up right now, they could fix it within minutes. Pull Nancy out of the chorus, she knew the words just as well. Have only nineteen backup dancers. She just had to stand up…
The gears creaked, and the curtain started to rise. The audience exploded with applause and cheers. Now or never, Mattie, now or never…
&*&*&*&*&
Christian had never seen a crowd so appreciative. This was going to be some show, he could tell. The curtain came up, the blue-tinted spotlight came on, and an angel landed on earth.
He now understood the audience's enthusiasm. At the top of a short flight of stairs, perched daintily on a tiny stool, sat the most beautiful woman ever created. Raven ringlets cascaded over sculpted shoulders. Deep chocolate colored skin wrapped in white fabric, tinted an eerily majestic blue by the light. A lull fell over the audience as she started to sing.
The French are glad to die for love…
They delight in fighting duels…
Her voice captured him completely. Her voice seemed as deep as the ocean and as smooth as black silk. He was in awe.
But I prefer a man who lives And gives expensive…jewelsAnd then the stage exploded. Lights flashing red, orange, and yellow overtook the stage. Satine kicked back her stool and glided down the steps to a heavy drumbeat. About twenty other dancers, all clad in gold miniskirts and bikini tops kicked and shimmied their ways onstage. The brass section of the orchestra blasted Christian's ears, but not so much that he couldn't hear the diamond's voice.
A kiss on the hand may be quite continental
He knew the tune. Marilyn Monroe: Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend. He didn't care. All he saw was her, the beautiful woman. Amelia noticed his interest.
"You like her, huh?"
Christian blushed again, for the umpteenth time.
"She's quite beautiful."
"I can get her to see you, if ya' want. Later, after my number." Christian just grinned.
&*&*&*&*&
It couldn't be. Not now, not when she was so close to her dreams.
Harry didn't want to believe the papers in his hand, just like he didn't want to believe the letter he had received just two months earlier. 'Dear Mr. Zidler' it had started, 'I use to be a frequent patron at your wonderful club, the Moulin Rouge. I had relations with several of your girls, and believe me, they were quite wonderful.' It had started innocent enough. He had started to get an abundance of fan letters, so to speak, from more than happy customers. And then it all went sour.
'Mr. Zidler, I regret to inform you that I have recently been diagnosed with Acquired Immuno Deficiency Syndrome, and have reason to believe I may have passed it on to one of your girls…' That sentence broken his heart. He immediately had taken all of his girls to Dr. Fletcher, and made everyone of them give a blood sample. And now the results were back. And the irony was, only one of them showed anything.
He didn't want to believe it, but there it was, black on white. Madeline VeMonte had AIDS.
&*&*&*&*&
"Diamonds!" his angel belted out as the orchestra took a rather brassy turn. Satine melded into the chorus line and joined them in their high kicks. "Diamonds! Square cut or pear shaped these rocks don't loose their shape. Diamonds," then as the band started to build up to the final note, "are a girl's. Best. FRIEND!" She lingered on the note for a while, even after the final strains of the instruments had died away. Her strong voice tapered off, and the audience lifted. Christian felt rather…lifted himself. He had lost all feeling in his legs, and had forgotten all about his knee, until Manuel kicked him from behind.
"You are preoccupying my dancer," he accused playfully. He gave Amelia a less than chaste kiss, then the woman scooted onstage as fast as her red stiletto heels could carry her. The band struck a brassy note.
"Meet you in the red room, lock the doors and dim the lights…" Amelia's voice wasn't as rich as Satine's, but that didn't matter to Christian. He only whished her number would finish fast so that he could meet an angel.
&*&*&*&*&
She had left the stage now, and was Madeline again, for the moment. She turned her head from one side to the other, breathing deeply and trying to catch a glimpse of Dukeham. Instead, she saw Harry, a cheerful smile nearly masking his somber eyes.
"Well, my swarthy maiden," he boomed softly, "are you ready for a little… 'closure' with Dukeham?" Madeline smiled.
"Just let me catch my breath." Harry nodded, and turned away. He couldn't bring himself to look into the eyes of a dead girl just yet.