"Hope you don't mind," the voice rang through the stage. "I hope you don't
mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is now you're in the
world. . ."
She smiled that wonderful, beautiful smile, sighing. "Oh, I can't believe it. I'm in love. I'm in love with a young, handsome talented Duke."
Chris laughed slightly. "Duke?"
She shook her head, still smiling. "Oh. . . not that the title's important of course."
"I'm not a Duke."
"Not a Duke?" she asked, leaning closer.
The man on stage, throwing all his lines out the window, landed on top of her, kissing her dramatically, while she flung her arms and legs in the air.
"Cut!" yelled Hans, and the actor on stage laughed, slowly rolling off of his fuming co-star.
I clenched the arms of my chair, turning away, unable to see her being kissed by another man like that. Sure, I had seen her kiss the duke before right in front of me. But, hey! Why should I care anyway? I hated her.
The script. . . everything in there were all so clear in my mind, and now here it was, being played right before my eyes. All those memories flooded back to me, along with their feelings of deception, jealousy, hate, anger. . . but above all things I felt that damn feeling of love.
After a few weeks, I still felt that empty feeling when I saw her, and looked away before she noticed my eyes. Years ago, everything had been so different. I loved the world, had given my heart to someone I knew I could love forever. . . but all her wants to fill a need. She wants to save you with her bandages after she makes you bleed. Like a vampire, a parasite, stretch the neck of her victim, she finds her prey in broad daylight. Whatever she wanted, for whatever you need, speechless and silent while she takes everything.
"Is that the way you wanted it to be?" Hans poked an elbow into my side and I looked up, not even realizing that they had started the scene over again.
"Yeah, it is," I whispered, not even seeing any of it. I turned away again, lost in my own thoughts.
It hurt. Every time the actor playing the role of Christopher kissed me, touched me, talked to me in the same words Christian had said. . . it all hurt. All those times, all those emotions were racing through my head, making me dizzy. And seeing Christian, sitting by the side of the stage, watching us practice with only half watching, half gazing out to nothing in particular. . . made me want to stop, quit the production.
That look on his face, feeling that ache in my heart. . . nothing was worth all the pain. But it was my dream to become an actress. The story hurt, making me fall even more in love with Christian, but near the middle is where I broke down. The tears were real, the emotions were real, and my body and eyes ached at the end of the day, when Hans yelled, "That's a rap for today."
I sighed, those simple words sounding like a song from the heavens.
"Miss James?" my co-star, Edgar, asked.
I turned my head and saw his gray eyes staring at me. "I, uh. . . I was wondering if. . ." He scratched the back of his neck and looked down. "I was just wondering if you'd like to get together and, you know. . . practice our lines." His head lifted a little. "Maybe have a little dinner?"
My mouth opened for a moment, and then I spotted Christian to the side, his eyes red and raw, hiding behind a clipboard. I caught his attention for a moment, and I smiled. And for some reason. . . a little sparkle returned to his eyes and he grinned. Not that adorable grin that he used to do that would make me melt. . . but a sad grin. He was hiding his emotions, I knew it. After a lifetime of mastering it, I could sense it in others.
"Uh, Miss James. . ."
My eyes switched back to Edgar and I took him by the hand. "I'm sorry, but. . . I can't." I lifted up my left hand and wiggled my ring finger and he nodded, stepping away.
I looked at Christian again, not quite understanding the feelings in my heart. I shook my head, smiling for some reason.
"Oh, there you are my dear." A suddenly arm touched my arm and I jumped, seeing Marie's heavily painted face.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" I asked.
"No. . . no, you're in it too?!" Christian demanded, yelling from the other side of the stage. "I don't BELIEVE this."
"I'm so sorry, Christian, that you had to find out like this. At the time it seemed like the best solution for her to-"
"Hey, what time is it?" I yelled, cutting her off on purpose. "Isn't it time for dinner? Lets go home."
Marie looked into my eyes and slowly her lips curved into a smile. "Yes, lets. Ewan and I are waiting for you."
I clenched my jaw. Just because I didn't want my son to meet his father, didn't mean she couldn't introduce them. And I didn't want her to. "All right," I whispered. "I'll be there shortly."
"Ewan? Who's that?" Christian asked, flashes of anger in his eyes. "What, is he your new guy? Are you just going to use him and leave this one too?"
I turned away, glaring at Marie. "He's no one."
"No one, my dear?" she laughed. "Your SON certainly is someone!"
"You have a son?" Christian's voice was soft. "Well, congratulations. I hope you and his father are quite happy together," he spat.
I couldn't look into his eyes. I began to tug at Marie's sleeve. This was all getting so dangerous. "Thank you, we are," I said.
"Oh no, darling, don't lie." She brushed my hand off of her and looked into Christian's eyes. "She is just getting so shy about all this. Didn't she tell you? The father is -"
I suddenly screamed. They looked at me with strange stares, but I don't care. Marie, if you do it. . . if you tell him. . .
"You're the father, you know," she said quickly, moving aside, and escaping through the stage door.
I didn't look up, couldn't look up. But I could feel hot tears start at my eyes.
"I'm. . . I'm. . ." Christian started.
I looked up and saw him pale, leaning against the wall for support. His mouth was open and his brows pinched together confused. He looked so cute. . .
Snap out of it!
"W-Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered. "I. . . I have a son and you didn't tell me."
"Dead people don't talk," I said quietly, looking away from his burning stare.
"Dead people don't show up in play houses either," he snapped. "Why? Why didn't you tell me I have a son?"
"He's mine," I whispered. "He's mine. . ." The words I spoke weren't mine, but it was too late. . . everything said and done is already too late to take back.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he roared, raking a hand through his hair. He took in a couple deep breaths.
"What good would it have done? Would it have changed anything?"
He stared at me, still, with a silent tear falling down his cheek. The silence became unbearable, and I turned to leave.
"No, I don't suppose it would have," he finally said.
I froze. I know I hurt him - now, and from so long ago. What wouldn't I give to be back in his arms, feel his warmth beside me, kiss him lazily like I had done so many times before. . . but I can't. I can't change the past.
"I want to see him," he said softly. There was a trace of longing in his voice.
"I don't think you should. . . he thinks you're dead," I said over my shoulder.
"I thought you were. What's the difference?" he said bitterly.
I looked away, taking a deep breath, and refused myself to cry. "I don't think you should." The door was so close - within my reach. If I just put my hand out. . .
It suddenly swung open, and Marie walked in, with Ewan's hand in hers. I felt my heart sink as I saw his beautiful face. I wanted him here with me for strength so bad, but right now it was so dangerous.
"Ewan, go wait outside, please. . ." I whispered, barely audible. He ran with his arms open, hugging my knees.
"Mummy, Oma says you have a surprise for me. . ." he whispered, looking up at me and grinning.
"Darling, I. . ."
"Is that. . . him?" Christian's voice said behind me, my heart squeezing. Air was so hard to take in right now.
"Yes," I breathed, bending down. "Ewan, I. . . I do have a surprise for you. It's. . . it's your father, he. . . he. . ." I bit my lip, trying to stop the flow of tears.
"He's right here." Christian bent down beside me. "Hello."
Ewan looked into my tearing face and asked, "Mummy?"
I couldn't say anything, my speech gone. I nodded slowly.
Ewan turned his head and looked into Christian's eyes, and smiled at the way they matched his own, only with tears. Ewan didn't say a word, just stared for a long time, reaching his small fingers up to his father's face and touching, moving over his lips to his nose, his eyelids, and his head.
"Hey, you kinda look like me," he whispered.
A tear ran down Christian's cheek and he laughed slightly. "Yeah, I kinda do." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Ok, so with Marie's little meddling, Christian finally met his son. I'm so happy. . . and I think I can say that Christian is too. Wow, these just keep coming. . . I hope I just didn't jinx myself.
SONGS USED: 'Your Song' by E.J. 'Whatever She Wanted' by my favorite band - JARS OF CLAY
She smiled that wonderful, beautiful smile, sighing. "Oh, I can't believe it. I'm in love. I'm in love with a young, handsome talented Duke."
Chris laughed slightly. "Duke?"
She shook her head, still smiling. "Oh. . . not that the title's important of course."
"I'm not a Duke."
"Not a Duke?" she asked, leaning closer.
The man on stage, throwing all his lines out the window, landed on top of her, kissing her dramatically, while she flung her arms and legs in the air.
"Cut!" yelled Hans, and the actor on stage laughed, slowly rolling off of his fuming co-star.
I clenched the arms of my chair, turning away, unable to see her being kissed by another man like that. Sure, I had seen her kiss the duke before right in front of me. But, hey! Why should I care anyway? I hated her.
The script. . . everything in there were all so clear in my mind, and now here it was, being played right before my eyes. All those memories flooded back to me, along with their feelings of deception, jealousy, hate, anger. . . but above all things I felt that damn feeling of love.
After a few weeks, I still felt that empty feeling when I saw her, and looked away before she noticed my eyes. Years ago, everything had been so different. I loved the world, had given my heart to someone I knew I could love forever. . . but all her wants to fill a need. She wants to save you with her bandages after she makes you bleed. Like a vampire, a parasite, stretch the neck of her victim, she finds her prey in broad daylight. Whatever she wanted, for whatever you need, speechless and silent while she takes everything.
"Is that the way you wanted it to be?" Hans poked an elbow into my side and I looked up, not even realizing that they had started the scene over again.
"Yeah, it is," I whispered, not even seeing any of it. I turned away again, lost in my own thoughts.
It hurt. Every time the actor playing the role of Christopher kissed me, touched me, talked to me in the same words Christian had said. . . it all hurt. All those times, all those emotions were racing through my head, making me dizzy. And seeing Christian, sitting by the side of the stage, watching us practice with only half watching, half gazing out to nothing in particular. . . made me want to stop, quit the production.
That look on his face, feeling that ache in my heart. . . nothing was worth all the pain. But it was my dream to become an actress. The story hurt, making me fall even more in love with Christian, but near the middle is where I broke down. The tears were real, the emotions were real, and my body and eyes ached at the end of the day, when Hans yelled, "That's a rap for today."
I sighed, those simple words sounding like a song from the heavens.
"Miss James?" my co-star, Edgar, asked.
I turned my head and saw his gray eyes staring at me. "I, uh. . . I was wondering if. . ." He scratched the back of his neck and looked down. "I was just wondering if you'd like to get together and, you know. . . practice our lines." His head lifted a little. "Maybe have a little dinner?"
My mouth opened for a moment, and then I spotted Christian to the side, his eyes red and raw, hiding behind a clipboard. I caught his attention for a moment, and I smiled. And for some reason. . . a little sparkle returned to his eyes and he grinned. Not that adorable grin that he used to do that would make me melt. . . but a sad grin. He was hiding his emotions, I knew it. After a lifetime of mastering it, I could sense it in others.
"Uh, Miss James. . ."
My eyes switched back to Edgar and I took him by the hand. "I'm sorry, but. . . I can't." I lifted up my left hand and wiggled my ring finger and he nodded, stepping away.
I looked at Christian again, not quite understanding the feelings in my heart. I shook my head, smiling for some reason.
"Oh, there you are my dear." A suddenly arm touched my arm and I jumped, seeing Marie's heavily painted face.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" I asked.
"No. . . no, you're in it too?!" Christian demanded, yelling from the other side of the stage. "I don't BELIEVE this."
"I'm so sorry, Christian, that you had to find out like this. At the time it seemed like the best solution for her to-"
"Hey, what time is it?" I yelled, cutting her off on purpose. "Isn't it time for dinner? Lets go home."
Marie looked into my eyes and slowly her lips curved into a smile. "Yes, lets. Ewan and I are waiting for you."
I clenched my jaw. Just because I didn't want my son to meet his father, didn't mean she couldn't introduce them. And I didn't want her to. "All right," I whispered. "I'll be there shortly."
"Ewan? Who's that?" Christian asked, flashes of anger in his eyes. "What, is he your new guy? Are you just going to use him and leave this one too?"
I turned away, glaring at Marie. "He's no one."
"No one, my dear?" she laughed. "Your SON certainly is someone!"
"You have a son?" Christian's voice was soft. "Well, congratulations. I hope you and his father are quite happy together," he spat.
I couldn't look into his eyes. I began to tug at Marie's sleeve. This was all getting so dangerous. "Thank you, we are," I said.
"Oh no, darling, don't lie." She brushed my hand off of her and looked into Christian's eyes. "She is just getting so shy about all this. Didn't she tell you? The father is -"
I suddenly screamed. They looked at me with strange stares, but I don't care. Marie, if you do it. . . if you tell him. . .
"You're the father, you know," she said quickly, moving aside, and escaping through the stage door.
I didn't look up, couldn't look up. But I could feel hot tears start at my eyes.
"I'm. . . I'm. . ." Christian started.
I looked up and saw him pale, leaning against the wall for support. His mouth was open and his brows pinched together confused. He looked so cute. . .
Snap out of it!
"W-Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered. "I. . . I have a son and you didn't tell me."
"Dead people don't talk," I said quietly, looking away from his burning stare.
"Dead people don't show up in play houses either," he snapped. "Why? Why didn't you tell me I have a son?"
"He's mine," I whispered. "He's mine. . ." The words I spoke weren't mine, but it was too late. . . everything said and done is already too late to take back.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he roared, raking a hand through his hair. He took in a couple deep breaths.
"What good would it have done? Would it have changed anything?"
He stared at me, still, with a silent tear falling down his cheek. The silence became unbearable, and I turned to leave.
"No, I don't suppose it would have," he finally said.
I froze. I know I hurt him - now, and from so long ago. What wouldn't I give to be back in his arms, feel his warmth beside me, kiss him lazily like I had done so many times before. . . but I can't. I can't change the past.
"I want to see him," he said softly. There was a trace of longing in his voice.
"I don't think you should. . . he thinks you're dead," I said over my shoulder.
"I thought you were. What's the difference?" he said bitterly.
I looked away, taking a deep breath, and refused myself to cry. "I don't think you should." The door was so close - within my reach. If I just put my hand out. . .
It suddenly swung open, and Marie walked in, with Ewan's hand in hers. I felt my heart sink as I saw his beautiful face. I wanted him here with me for strength so bad, but right now it was so dangerous.
"Ewan, go wait outside, please. . ." I whispered, barely audible. He ran with his arms open, hugging my knees.
"Mummy, Oma says you have a surprise for me. . ." he whispered, looking up at me and grinning.
"Darling, I. . ."
"Is that. . . him?" Christian's voice said behind me, my heart squeezing. Air was so hard to take in right now.
"Yes," I breathed, bending down. "Ewan, I. . . I do have a surprise for you. It's. . . it's your father, he. . . he. . ." I bit my lip, trying to stop the flow of tears.
"He's right here." Christian bent down beside me. "Hello."
Ewan looked into my tearing face and asked, "Mummy?"
I couldn't say anything, my speech gone. I nodded slowly.
Ewan turned his head and looked into Christian's eyes, and smiled at the way they matched his own, only with tears. Ewan didn't say a word, just stared for a long time, reaching his small fingers up to his father's face and touching, moving over his lips to his nose, his eyelids, and his head.
"Hey, you kinda look like me," he whispered.
A tear ran down Christian's cheek and he laughed slightly. "Yeah, I kinda do." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Ok, so with Marie's little meddling, Christian finally met his son. I'm so happy. . . and I think I can say that Christian is too. Wow, these just keep coming. . . I hope I just didn't jinx myself.
SONGS USED: 'Your Song' by E.J. 'Whatever She Wanted' by my favorite band - JARS OF CLAY