At rehearsals I tried to keep my mind on my lines that was exactly what I
had said to my love years ago, but my eyes always drifted over toward
Christian, hoping for something that was gone. He rarely looked at me any
more - at rehearsals just to bark an order, and at my home when I briefly
opened the door.
Why? Why does he hate me so much? I know I made mistakes in the past, but I was willing to get over my problems. I can't live without him. . .
"Miss James!"
I searched the stage to see the person who was yelling my name that I had been with for so long, and I met the red face of Hans Zidler. "Yes?" I asked sweetly.
"It's your line, Miss James. Edgar just said that you don't have to end your relationship, because he'll write a song and put it in the play and when you hear it, you'll know your love for each other. and you say. . ."
"Things don't work that way. . . We have to end it," I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. The memories were still so fresh in my mind.
Edgar reached his hands out for me, his hands soft on mine. "Never knew I could feel like this. It's like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss." I found myself fighting to keep my face calm, and my tears turned my mouth into a frown and I let out a soft sob.
"Exactly!" Hans yelled, shaking his fists in over-exaggerated rage. "Do it like that every time!"
'It's just a play. . . I can do this.' Those were the words I said to myself every morning in front of the mirror, but when I was on that stage, feeling the burning stare of Christian on me. . . I broke down, and embraced all of the old feelings, the old emotions. I even cried when I died - a 'lifeless' corpse with a tear rolling silently down her cheek, Edgar doing his best to pretend he cared that I was gone. . . forever.
One morning, before anyone arrived, I walked out onto the stage alone. My heels echoed loudly on the marble floor and I sat on the glittery stairs for the 'Spectacular! Spectacular!' scenes in the play.
I sighed, hearing every sound echo around me. "Trace the shape of my heart. . ." I sang quietly, my mind drifting away from the world I was in now, "until it becomes more familiar to your eyes. I've been lost without you, cold without your love. It's taken days and nights to make me realize. . . Rescue me from hangin' on this line." I know Christian said we were over, and that hurt. . . but I love him. I made a mistake before, but I will fix it. "I won't give up on giving you the chance to blow my mind. Let the eleventh hour quickly pass me by. I'll find you when I think I'm out of time."
I stood from the stairs, brushing off some glitter and wondered over to 'Chris's garret' and laid down on the bed. "Take the place of my heart 'til I become a stranger to my life. I've been down without you, wrong without your love. In time will I be what you're thinking of?"
And all of a sudden. . . a crash. I bolted to my feet.
"Who's there?" I asked, hearing nothing but my echo in return. "Who's there?"
"It's. . . it's only me."
I held my breath at Christian's voice, and when he stepped out from behind the chairs in the audience I put a hand to my mouth.
"I. . . I didn't know anyone was here," I whispered.
"I thought so too," he said softly, looking away.
I smiled - it was the best conversation we had had in months.
"Lovely song. . ." He rubbed his hands together, nervous for some reason. He didn't know what to say. "Maybe we should have put it in the show. . ."
"I miss you."
I said it so softly that he might not of heard it, but the space around us was silent nonetheless.
"Christian, I. . ."
He shook his head. "Please, Satine. . . don't."
"Why must we leave it at that?"
"Because!" he roared, stepping onto the stage. He looked into my eyes and I saw something there. . . something that was there long ago, but pushed back by invisible tears. He reached out and touched my cheek and my eyes closed at the warmth. "Because it can't be anything more."
He moved away suddenly, causing me to go off balance. "No, please. . ."
He glared at me. "Take a bow, the night is over," he sang through gritted teeth. "This masquerade is getting older. Light are low, the curtain's down, there's no one here. Say your lines but do you feel them? Do you mean what you say when there's no one around? Watching you, watching me, one lonely star, you don't know who you are."
"I know I hurt you before. . ." is started, tearing up much to my dismay.
He spread his arms open and pointed to the empty chairs in the audience. "Make them laugh, it comes so easy. When you get to the part where you're breaking my heart, hide behind your smile - all the world loves a clown. Wish you well, I cannot stay. You deserve an award for the role that you played. No more masquerade, you're one lonely star. . ."
I plugged my ears. "Stop. . ."
"All the world is a stage and everyone has their part. But how was I to know which way the story'd go? How was I to know you'd break my heart?"
The script that was in his hand went flying and he turned away, fleeting back the way he came from.
I fell to the floor, my head in my hands.
I stopped running when I reached the door, and leaned my head against the wall. Damnit, what was she trying to do to me? It was all an act. . . she was such a wonderful actress.
I really did want to give into all her smiles, all her promises, all the lies she was spouting. But she would only hurt me in the end, and she meant so much to me. . .
"I don't wanna lose you, I don't wanna use you, just to have somebody by my side. And I don't want you to hate me, I don't want you to take me, but I don't wanna be the one to cry. That don't really matter to anyone, anymore, but like a fool I keep losing my place. And I keep seeing you walk through that door. . ." I looked down at my hands, shaking my head. "But there's a danger in loving somebody too much. And its sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust. There's a reason why people don't stay where they are. . . Sometimes love just ain't enough."
I looked toward the ceiling, and smiled when I imagined my son. I know he wanted his mother and father together. . . but things don't work out that way. Things rarely ever happen the way you want them to. But no matter what. . . I will love her. As much as I hate that idea, I know it's the truth. "Yes I may have hurt you, but I did not desert you. Maybe I just wanna have it all. It makes a sound like thunder, it makes me feel like rain, and like a fool who will never see the truth. I keep thinking something's gonna change. . . But there's a danger in loving somebody too much. And its sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust. There's a reason why people don't stay where they are. . . Sometimes love just ain't enough."
I heard her sobs coming out from the stage and I glanced from the crack in the door to see her on the ground, crying. She looked so. . . sincere. A single tear fell from my eye as a knot started in my stomach. "And there's no way home when it's late at night and you're all alone. And there are things that you wanted to say. . . Do you feel me beside you in your bed, there beside you where I used to lay? And there's a danger in loving somebody too much. And it's sad when you know its your heart they can't touch. There's a reason why people don't stay who they are. . . Cause baby sometimes love just ain't enough. Baby sometimes love just ain't enough. . ."
A week later, early in the morning I took a walk to the play house, touching the many leaves on the tree turning colors. Autumn was so beautiful. . . but soon it will be winter. I looked behind me, looking for something that I wasn't sure of. It was almost the seven year anniversary of me leaving France. "How fast the minutes fly away and every minute colder. Hurry near, another day is dying. Don't you hear, the winter wind is crying? There's a darkness, which comes without a warning. . ."
I hugged my sweater around me tightly.
I felt horrible. My stomach hurt this morning, grumbling all night. . . I tried to eat something but I only ended up throwing it up. I had looked in the mirror this morning, only to see a pale, ghost-like face.
But the fresh air did so good on my scratchy throat, and I finally felt like I could breathe again.
Stumbling and light headed, I somehow made it to the playhouse a few blocks away and went into my dressing room. With the help of Elizabeth, she helped me lace my corset. I leaned into the counter to help from falling down, gasping slightly.
"Miss James, are you all right?" Elizabeth asked, putting a hand on my arm.
I forced a smile. "Oh, yes. . . I'm fine. Can you go fetch me my dress?"
She nodded skeptically and left me alone in the room.
When the door was shut, I rested my elbows on the table and cried. There was a pain inside me, aching. . . and a tight corset didn't help much either.
"Miss James. . ."
Elizabeth came back into the room and I straightened up.
"Oh, thank you."
She helped me slip the white Hindi wedding dress over my head and sat me in the chair to do my hair.
Backstage, I leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, feeling a cough creap up my throat, but I pushed it back down.
"Places!" Hans yelled.
I met Edgar to the side of the stage.
"Wow, you look bad," he whispered. I raised my eyes to his and he scratched his head. "Uh. . . wow, you look great. . ."
"Ok, Edgar, we'll start from you're line," Hans instructed.
Edgar nodded, shaking his feet and arms, working to get in character.
I glanced over in the crowd over toward Christian. . . he was looking away, rubbing his eyes. This scene. . . it was the one hardest to do. I still can't believe I faked my own death. . . and now it was here, right in front of me, in the script for me to do. A tear fell from my eye.
Edgar shook his head, and finally he looked at me.
He forces a smile. "I've come to pay my bill."
I straighten myself up and begin to walk away from him. "You shouldn't be here. Just leave."
I walk across the stage, and I silently begin to cry as I walk away. Edgar grabs my shoulder roughly, making me look at him.
"You made me believe you loved me, why shouldn't I pay you?" he spat.
"Please. . ."
Other actors around us grab him, but he pushes them off and he grabs my wrist.
"You did your job so very, very well!" he yells. "Why can't I pay you like everyone else does?"
I shake my head. No, his grip is too strong. . . the cough is beginning to surface and I push him away from me, but he plays off of it.
"Tell me it wasn't real."
"Please. . . no. . ."
"Tell me it wasn't real!"
"No. . . stop."
I turn away, fighting for some fresh air.
"Edgar, stop," someone in the audience whispers, but Hans waves a hand at them.
"Why can't I pay you?" Edgar yells, gripping my arms tighter. He shoves money into my face and I push them away.
"No. . ." A cough escapes my throat, and I take in ragged breaths. I'm so hot here. . . I feel sweat trickle down the sides of my forehead. I push Edgar off of me and turn away, gasping.
"Satine. . . Satine!" someone yells, a pair of cool arms around me.
I lean into them, feeling suddenly safe. My eyes are filled with tears and I can't see. . . my head is all cloudy. . . and another cough rattles through my body, and I fall into the black in front of me.
"Satine. . . Satine!" I yell, running out of my chair to her as fast I can. She falls into my arms, and my body trembles as a cough shakes her body and she collapses.
"Satine, what's the matter? Tell me. . . tell me what's the matter!" I put my head closer and I can barely feel her breathing. "Oh God. . . Somebody get some help!"
I feel people behind me rush around, but all I see is her, in my arms. . . Tears fall from my eyes as I look at how pale she is. Oh God. . . I just found her, don't take her away from me!
I rub her cold arms. "You're. . . you're sick. Just be quiet now, you'll be all right, you'll be all right. . ." It was the same exact words I had spoken to her the night I lost her first.
Tears continue to fall, but I can't shut my eyes, in fear that I'd never see her again. "Satine, forgive me. . . I'm been so foolish. . . please, forgive me. . ."
I don't know how long it was until the doctor came, but with his help I climbed into the carriage with her in my arms.
When we arrived at the hospital, Satine's lips had turned blue, and her body was shaking. I laid her down on the table and stepped back to let the doctor's and nurses do their work.
"Sir, you'll have to leave," a nurse said to me.
I shook my head. "No. . . no, I'm not leaving her all alone." I dragged in a breath as they ripped off her costume and were pounding on her chest. "Why are they doing that?"
"Sir, you'll have to leave," the nurse said again, pushing me out the door.
"No!" I yelled, trying to push past her, but two others joined her and started to escort me out the door. "No, I'm not leaving her. . ."
"You can just wait outside the door."
"Satine!"
The door shut in front of my eyes and locked. I pounded on the door and glanced at the small window, watching them stick tubes down her throat.
I sank to the floor, my head in my hands. "Satine. . . Oh God. . ."
Hours later, the doctor came out.
Lines upon lines of wrinkles made up his face, and his pink lips were thin.
"Sir. . ." he said.
"How is she?!" I exclaimed, jumping from the floor and trying to look past him, frozen when I saw her lying still on the bed. He closed the door.
"Sir, are you her husband?" he asked.
I paused for a second. I love her. . . I never stopped. I LOVE her! When we get out of here. . . I don't care if I get hurt again - all you need is love. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes, I'm Christian James. . . Satine is my wife." The words sounded so good.
The doctor nodded. "Sir, I have some news for you. The attack on your wife seemed to have knocked her unconscious, and she had stopped breathing."
I rubbed my face. "Is she ok?"
"Well sir, this has been with your wife for a while now. I'm surprised she didn't notice the signs earlier. What happened to her appeared so suddenly. . ."
"Is she ok?" I demanded, gripping his sleeves.
"Sir, you might want to sit down."
"Just tell me. I can't breathe as it is. . ."
He sighed, pushing my hand off his arm and leading me over toward the small couch in the hall. "Sir, your wife is. . ." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: OOH! I didn't finish my sentence there. Hmm, what can I do? She is. . . what? I just suppose you'll have to wait for the next chapter.
SONGS USED: 'The Eleventh Hour' by the INCREDIBLE JARS OF CLAY!!!!!!! 'Take a Bow' by Madonna 'Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough' by Patti Smith 'Come To Me (Fantine's Death)' from Les Miserables
Why? Why does he hate me so much? I know I made mistakes in the past, but I was willing to get over my problems. I can't live without him. . .
"Miss James!"
I searched the stage to see the person who was yelling my name that I had been with for so long, and I met the red face of Hans Zidler. "Yes?" I asked sweetly.
"It's your line, Miss James. Edgar just said that you don't have to end your relationship, because he'll write a song and put it in the play and when you hear it, you'll know your love for each other. and you say. . ."
"Things don't work that way. . . We have to end it," I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. The memories were still so fresh in my mind.
Edgar reached his hands out for me, his hands soft on mine. "Never knew I could feel like this. It's like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss." I found myself fighting to keep my face calm, and my tears turned my mouth into a frown and I let out a soft sob.
"Exactly!" Hans yelled, shaking his fists in over-exaggerated rage. "Do it like that every time!"
'It's just a play. . . I can do this.' Those were the words I said to myself every morning in front of the mirror, but when I was on that stage, feeling the burning stare of Christian on me. . . I broke down, and embraced all of the old feelings, the old emotions. I even cried when I died - a 'lifeless' corpse with a tear rolling silently down her cheek, Edgar doing his best to pretend he cared that I was gone. . . forever.
One morning, before anyone arrived, I walked out onto the stage alone. My heels echoed loudly on the marble floor and I sat on the glittery stairs for the 'Spectacular! Spectacular!' scenes in the play.
I sighed, hearing every sound echo around me. "Trace the shape of my heart. . ." I sang quietly, my mind drifting away from the world I was in now, "until it becomes more familiar to your eyes. I've been lost without you, cold without your love. It's taken days and nights to make me realize. . . Rescue me from hangin' on this line." I know Christian said we were over, and that hurt. . . but I love him. I made a mistake before, but I will fix it. "I won't give up on giving you the chance to blow my mind. Let the eleventh hour quickly pass me by. I'll find you when I think I'm out of time."
I stood from the stairs, brushing off some glitter and wondered over to 'Chris's garret' and laid down on the bed. "Take the place of my heart 'til I become a stranger to my life. I've been down without you, wrong without your love. In time will I be what you're thinking of?"
And all of a sudden. . . a crash. I bolted to my feet.
"Who's there?" I asked, hearing nothing but my echo in return. "Who's there?"
"It's. . . it's only me."
I held my breath at Christian's voice, and when he stepped out from behind the chairs in the audience I put a hand to my mouth.
"I. . . I didn't know anyone was here," I whispered.
"I thought so too," he said softly, looking away.
I smiled - it was the best conversation we had had in months.
"Lovely song. . ." He rubbed his hands together, nervous for some reason. He didn't know what to say. "Maybe we should have put it in the show. . ."
"I miss you."
I said it so softly that he might not of heard it, but the space around us was silent nonetheless.
"Christian, I. . ."
He shook his head. "Please, Satine. . . don't."
"Why must we leave it at that?"
"Because!" he roared, stepping onto the stage. He looked into my eyes and I saw something there. . . something that was there long ago, but pushed back by invisible tears. He reached out and touched my cheek and my eyes closed at the warmth. "Because it can't be anything more."
He moved away suddenly, causing me to go off balance. "No, please. . ."
He glared at me. "Take a bow, the night is over," he sang through gritted teeth. "This masquerade is getting older. Light are low, the curtain's down, there's no one here. Say your lines but do you feel them? Do you mean what you say when there's no one around? Watching you, watching me, one lonely star, you don't know who you are."
"I know I hurt you before. . ." is started, tearing up much to my dismay.
He spread his arms open and pointed to the empty chairs in the audience. "Make them laugh, it comes so easy. When you get to the part where you're breaking my heart, hide behind your smile - all the world loves a clown. Wish you well, I cannot stay. You deserve an award for the role that you played. No more masquerade, you're one lonely star. . ."
I plugged my ears. "Stop. . ."
"All the world is a stage and everyone has their part. But how was I to know which way the story'd go? How was I to know you'd break my heart?"
The script that was in his hand went flying and he turned away, fleeting back the way he came from.
I fell to the floor, my head in my hands.
I stopped running when I reached the door, and leaned my head against the wall. Damnit, what was she trying to do to me? It was all an act. . . she was such a wonderful actress.
I really did want to give into all her smiles, all her promises, all the lies she was spouting. But she would only hurt me in the end, and she meant so much to me. . .
"I don't wanna lose you, I don't wanna use you, just to have somebody by my side. And I don't want you to hate me, I don't want you to take me, but I don't wanna be the one to cry. That don't really matter to anyone, anymore, but like a fool I keep losing my place. And I keep seeing you walk through that door. . ." I looked down at my hands, shaking my head. "But there's a danger in loving somebody too much. And its sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust. There's a reason why people don't stay where they are. . . Sometimes love just ain't enough."
I looked toward the ceiling, and smiled when I imagined my son. I know he wanted his mother and father together. . . but things don't work out that way. Things rarely ever happen the way you want them to. But no matter what. . . I will love her. As much as I hate that idea, I know it's the truth. "Yes I may have hurt you, but I did not desert you. Maybe I just wanna have it all. It makes a sound like thunder, it makes me feel like rain, and like a fool who will never see the truth. I keep thinking something's gonna change. . . But there's a danger in loving somebody too much. And its sad when you know it's your heart you can't trust. There's a reason why people don't stay where they are. . . Sometimes love just ain't enough."
I heard her sobs coming out from the stage and I glanced from the crack in the door to see her on the ground, crying. She looked so. . . sincere. A single tear fell from my eye as a knot started in my stomach. "And there's no way home when it's late at night and you're all alone. And there are things that you wanted to say. . . Do you feel me beside you in your bed, there beside you where I used to lay? And there's a danger in loving somebody too much. And it's sad when you know its your heart they can't touch. There's a reason why people don't stay who they are. . . Cause baby sometimes love just ain't enough. Baby sometimes love just ain't enough. . ."
A week later, early in the morning I took a walk to the play house, touching the many leaves on the tree turning colors. Autumn was so beautiful. . . but soon it will be winter. I looked behind me, looking for something that I wasn't sure of. It was almost the seven year anniversary of me leaving France. "How fast the minutes fly away and every minute colder. Hurry near, another day is dying. Don't you hear, the winter wind is crying? There's a darkness, which comes without a warning. . ."
I hugged my sweater around me tightly.
I felt horrible. My stomach hurt this morning, grumbling all night. . . I tried to eat something but I only ended up throwing it up. I had looked in the mirror this morning, only to see a pale, ghost-like face.
But the fresh air did so good on my scratchy throat, and I finally felt like I could breathe again.
Stumbling and light headed, I somehow made it to the playhouse a few blocks away and went into my dressing room. With the help of Elizabeth, she helped me lace my corset. I leaned into the counter to help from falling down, gasping slightly.
"Miss James, are you all right?" Elizabeth asked, putting a hand on my arm.
I forced a smile. "Oh, yes. . . I'm fine. Can you go fetch me my dress?"
She nodded skeptically and left me alone in the room.
When the door was shut, I rested my elbows on the table and cried. There was a pain inside me, aching. . . and a tight corset didn't help much either.
"Miss James. . ."
Elizabeth came back into the room and I straightened up.
"Oh, thank you."
She helped me slip the white Hindi wedding dress over my head and sat me in the chair to do my hair.
Backstage, I leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, feeling a cough creap up my throat, but I pushed it back down.
"Places!" Hans yelled.
I met Edgar to the side of the stage.
"Wow, you look bad," he whispered. I raised my eyes to his and he scratched his head. "Uh. . . wow, you look great. . ."
"Ok, Edgar, we'll start from you're line," Hans instructed.
Edgar nodded, shaking his feet and arms, working to get in character.
I glanced over in the crowd over toward Christian. . . he was looking away, rubbing his eyes. This scene. . . it was the one hardest to do. I still can't believe I faked my own death. . . and now it was here, right in front of me, in the script for me to do. A tear fell from my eye.
Edgar shook his head, and finally he looked at me.
He forces a smile. "I've come to pay my bill."
I straighten myself up and begin to walk away from him. "You shouldn't be here. Just leave."
I walk across the stage, and I silently begin to cry as I walk away. Edgar grabs my shoulder roughly, making me look at him.
"You made me believe you loved me, why shouldn't I pay you?" he spat.
"Please. . ."
Other actors around us grab him, but he pushes them off and he grabs my wrist.
"You did your job so very, very well!" he yells. "Why can't I pay you like everyone else does?"
I shake my head. No, his grip is too strong. . . the cough is beginning to surface and I push him away from me, but he plays off of it.
"Tell me it wasn't real."
"Please. . . no. . ."
"Tell me it wasn't real!"
"No. . . stop."
I turn away, fighting for some fresh air.
"Edgar, stop," someone in the audience whispers, but Hans waves a hand at them.
"Why can't I pay you?" Edgar yells, gripping my arms tighter. He shoves money into my face and I push them away.
"No. . ." A cough escapes my throat, and I take in ragged breaths. I'm so hot here. . . I feel sweat trickle down the sides of my forehead. I push Edgar off of me and turn away, gasping.
"Satine. . . Satine!" someone yells, a pair of cool arms around me.
I lean into them, feeling suddenly safe. My eyes are filled with tears and I can't see. . . my head is all cloudy. . . and another cough rattles through my body, and I fall into the black in front of me.
"Satine. . . Satine!" I yell, running out of my chair to her as fast I can. She falls into my arms, and my body trembles as a cough shakes her body and she collapses.
"Satine, what's the matter? Tell me. . . tell me what's the matter!" I put my head closer and I can barely feel her breathing. "Oh God. . . Somebody get some help!"
I feel people behind me rush around, but all I see is her, in my arms. . . Tears fall from my eyes as I look at how pale she is. Oh God. . . I just found her, don't take her away from me!
I rub her cold arms. "You're. . . you're sick. Just be quiet now, you'll be all right, you'll be all right. . ." It was the same exact words I had spoken to her the night I lost her first.
Tears continue to fall, but I can't shut my eyes, in fear that I'd never see her again. "Satine, forgive me. . . I'm been so foolish. . . please, forgive me. . ."
I don't know how long it was until the doctor came, but with his help I climbed into the carriage with her in my arms.
When we arrived at the hospital, Satine's lips had turned blue, and her body was shaking. I laid her down on the table and stepped back to let the doctor's and nurses do their work.
"Sir, you'll have to leave," a nurse said to me.
I shook my head. "No. . . no, I'm not leaving her all alone." I dragged in a breath as they ripped off her costume and were pounding on her chest. "Why are they doing that?"
"Sir, you'll have to leave," the nurse said again, pushing me out the door.
"No!" I yelled, trying to push past her, but two others joined her and started to escort me out the door. "No, I'm not leaving her. . ."
"You can just wait outside the door."
"Satine!"
The door shut in front of my eyes and locked. I pounded on the door and glanced at the small window, watching them stick tubes down her throat.
I sank to the floor, my head in my hands. "Satine. . . Oh God. . ."
Hours later, the doctor came out.
Lines upon lines of wrinkles made up his face, and his pink lips were thin.
"Sir. . ." he said.
"How is she?!" I exclaimed, jumping from the floor and trying to look past him, frozen when I saw her lying still on the bed. He closed the door.
"Sir, are you her husband?" he asked.
I paused for a second. I love her. . . I never stopped. I LOVE her! When we get out of here. . . I don't care if I get hurt again - all you need is love. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes, I'm Christian James. . . Satine is my wife." The words sounded so good.
The doctor nodded. "Sir, I have some news for you. The attack on your wife seemed to have knocked her unconscious, and she had stopped breathing."
I rubbed my face. "Is she ok?"
"Well sir, this has been with your wife for a while now. I'm surprised she didn't notice the signs earlier. What happened to her appeared so suddenly. . ."
"Is she ok?" I demanded, gripping his sleeves.
"Sir, you might want to sit down."
"Just tell me. I can't breathe as it is. . ."
He sighed, pushing my hand off his arm and leading me over toward the small couch in the hall. "Sir, your wife is. . ." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: OOH! I didn't finish my sentence there. Hmm, what can I do? She is. . . what? I just suppose you'll have to wait for the next chapter.
SONGS USED: 'The Eleventh Hour' by the INCREDIBLE JARS OF CLAY!!!!!!! 'Take a Bow' by Madonna 'Sometimes Love Just Ain't Enough' by Patti Smith 'Come To Me (Fantine's Death)' from Les Miserables