Title: You don't know about the past...
Disclaimer: I own Giselle and Isa but the rest belongs to Baz. *sigh*
Dedication: My comfy cozy bed.
Giselle shook his outstretched hand. It was warm and strong, the grip tight but secure.
"I'm glad you could come," He said, sitting back into the window seat. "It's not very often Gigi is able to have a friend over. Her mother," He made a face on the word, it was barely noticeable and was gone within seconds. Even so, Isa saw it. He cleared his throat and started again. "Her mother and I have heard so much about you. We're quite busy these days, we barely have enough time for each other, let alone Gigi. I'm so glad she has found someone to be with who can keep her company on the days when we can't." Isa smiled.
"Giselle is my best friend, I would be nothing without her." Christian smiled and nodded.
"Papa!" Giselle exclaimed, utter delight written on her face. "Is that your new script, Papa?" He nodded and handed her the packet. "Oh Isa, you'll love it! She can read it can't she Papa?"
"Of course darling!" Giselle squealed, never before had Isa seen such happiness in her best friend's face.
"Come," She said, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the mahogany staircase. "We shall read it in my room. Will you come Papa, to read us your song?" He shook his head.
"No darling. I shall be going into the city, I have an actor who is interested in the script. I've heard he's quite good and he might just be perfect for the assassin, the lover if we're lucky."
"Ah luck," Giselle looked at him, smiling. "There's no such thing as luck, only miracles that have gone wrong."
Her father laughed, his eyes shining, love glowing in his eyes. "Aye, that's the truth. Go on, upstairs now. I have to get ready for to go." He kissed her on the forehead and waved goodbye to Isa.
"Papa?" Giselle asked, as they were halfway up the stairs. "Will you be at supper?"
"Yes darling."
"And," She hesitated. "And will mother?"
Christian sighed gazed out the window, for a moment it seemed as if he wouldn't answer.
"Yes darling. Yes, your mother will be at dinner." He sat back at the window and Giselle went up the stairs.
*****
"All you need is love!" Giselle belt out the words. Sure they were low but she could do it.
"A girl has got to eat!" Isa had the script because Giselle didn't need it. She had every word, note song and emotion embedded into her brain, right up until the new part that is.
They were reading the entire play, singing the songs as they went along. They shot the lyrics back and forth, falling in love with Christopher and Satina, the two that fell in love. They were determined to make the play come alive.
"Then we'll write a song, and we'll put it in the show!" Giselle gasped, stopping dead in her tracks. "This is the part he added." She exclaimed. She flipped to the music and skimmed through the words. She smiled, "Listen," She told Isa and began to sing the words.
"Never knew I could feel like this,
It's like I've never seen the sky before.
Want to vanish inside your kiss,
Everyday I'm loving you, more and more."
Giselle sang her heart out, she adored this song. It was everything she ever believed in, especially the chorus.
"Come what may,
Come what may,
I will love you,
Until my dying-"
"WHERE did you get that?" The voice that came from the doorway was cold and surprised, practically screaming.
Giselle and Isa jumped up. Giselle threw the script on the bed and folded her hands behind her back.
"Hello mother. How was your evening?"
"Perfect, I got the part." She held out her hands and Giselle rushed into them. Her mother cleared her throat. Giselle sighed and stood back, sinking into a deep curtsy. As soon as she stood up, she hugged her mother around the waist, her mother's arm snaked around Giselle's waist, hugging her close. She put her head into Giselle's hair.
This was where Giselle got all her beauty. Her mother was tall, slim and graceful. Giselle came up to her mother's shoulder, their hair colors blending in with each other.
"I've missed you mother." Giselle said.
"Darling, I've missed you too. Being in Connecticut was horrible without my baby girl. Every thing was so bleak without you to lighten the mood."
"Will you have to go to Connecticut for the rehearsals?" Giselle asked.
"No. No, they're based in New York, I don't understand why I had to go up there." She shifted her eyes to Isa. "Who's this?"
"Mother this is Isa. Isa this is Satine, my mother." Giselle said.
"Ah, so this is the wonderful Isa that I have heard so much about." Isa curtsied, getting the impression that Satine was proper and Isa should present herself as so. Satine nodded, acknowledging her curtsy. "What is that?" Satine asked, spotting the script on the bed.
"It's papa's script."
"Script? What script?" Satine asked, her face pale.
"Love at the Moulin Rouge." Satine screamed, covering her mouth with her hand.
"What?" She hissed. Giselle pulled back, suddenly afraid.
Satine picked up the script and flipped to the back pages, the pages the song was on.
"Oh God!" She breathed. "No! No, he can't do this." She fell to the floor and started to breathe heavily.
"Mother," Giselle cried, kneeling besides her mother. "What's wrong? What is the matter?"
"I... I... I got to go." She scrambled to her feet, ran into the hall and slammed the door.
Giselle looked towards Isa.
"I'm sorry," She said and ran to her mother's room.
She knocked on her mother's door, listening to her mother's sobs behind it. She opened it.
There Satine was, sitting on the plush velvet bed, with the red sheets that Giselle had once buried herself under to hide from the dreaded nightmares. So many memories of happiness they held, now so much pain was on it.
"Mother? What's wrong." She sat in front of her mother's bed and laid her head in Satine's lap. "Was it the song?" Satine nodded.
"My baby, my beautiful baby girl. My baby Giselle." She grabbed her arms and lifted Giselle up besides her, placing her in her lap. "I love you darling. I love you more than anything else in the world. Yes, darling it was the song."
"But why Mother? It was so pretty."
"Yes, I know." Satine wiped tears from her face. "Oh, darling. You have no idea what that song is do you? You know nothing of your past, nothing of us." She smoothed her hair.
"The song, what does it have to do with it?" Giselle pressed.
"When-" She stopped, hesitated and inhaled. "When you were a baby, your father made up that song. We would sing it to you, every night. You wouldn't go to sleep unless you heard it." She smiled. "You were so spoiled."
Giselle could tell that she wasn't telling the whole truth, even still, it felt good to hear her talk about the old days, the days when her parents were in love.
"Now, go to your friend, she's very nice. It wouldn't be proper if we left her all alone in this big house." Giselle looked at her mother. She didn't want to leave her but she did want to visit with Isa. She nodded and left.
*****
One week after Isa left, the script was done. Broadway was so eager to put the play into production that it held auditions the day the full script was off the printer. Christian Smith soon became the best play writer in New York.
"Papa, can you believe it? You're in the paper again. Listen," Giselle said as she, her mother and father were gathered in the parlor. "Christian Smith has done it yet again. He has provided beloved New York with a play full of passion, drama, sorrow and love. He has written it as if he actually had experienced the fiery love of Christopher and Satina, as if he actually had his lover die in his arms, never to awake again. And now, with the opening just six months away, tickets are being sold already, many are scrambling to hear just a bit of the magic this show has promised." She dropped the newspaper. "Papa, Mother, why are you looking for the lovers, you two would be perfect."
Christian looked to Satine. She shook her head. "No darling. No we wouldn't."
"I think you would." Giselle said. "You two have wonderful voices and-"
"Giselle!" Christian shouted. "That is enough." He breathed hard. Satine looked at him, horrified for his shouting. "You're mother and I can not play the part, that is final."
Giselle swallowed and nodded. Silence enveloped the room, tension thick. "Excuse me." She said and got up. She ran to her room, the sounds of sobs echoed from the hall.
"Christian." Satine started. "Why, why in hell did you do that? She was just trying to-"
"Satine, she mustn't know. She wouldn't understand. She would hate us." Satine burst into tears, her mass of red hair slowing coming untied.
He remembered the days she would wear her hair down, just for him. He always said he loved her hair down, free, just like her. His fingers itched to touch her, they itched to wipe away her tears but he didn't.
You don't love her anymore. Remember that. Christian nodded. He couldn't love her, wouldn't love her. Not ever, never again. He had already been hurt once.
Disclaimer: I own Giselle and Isa but the rest belongs to Baz. *sigh*
Dedication: My comfy cozy bed.
Giselle shook his outstretched hand. It was warm and strong, the grip tight but secure.
"I'm glad you could come," He said, sitting back into the window seat. "It's not very often Gigi is able to have a friend over. Her mother," He made a face on the word, it was barely noticeable and was gone within seconds. Even so, Isa saw it. He cleared his throat and started again. "Her mother and I have heard so much about you. We're quite busy these days, we barely have enough time for each other, let alone Gigi. I'm so glad she has found someone to be with who can keep her company on the days when we can't." Isa smiled.
"Giselle is my best friend, I would be nothing without her." Christian smiled and nodded.
"Papa!" Giselle exclaimed, utter delight written on her face. "Is that your new script, Papa?" He nodded and handed her the packet. "Oh Isa, you'll love it! She can read it can't she Papa?"
"Of course darling!" Giselle squealed, never before had Isa seen such happiness in her best friend's face.
"Come," She said, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the mahogany staircase. "We shall read it in my room. Will you come Papa, to read us your song?" He shook his head.
"No darling. I shall be going into the city, I have an actor who is interested in the script. I've heard he's quite good and he might just be perfect for the assassin, the lover if we're lucky."
"Ah luck," Giselle looked at him, smiling. "There's no such thing as luck, only miracles that have gone wrong."
Her father laughed, his eyes shining, love glowing in his eyes. "Aye, that's the truth. Go on, upstairs now. I have to get ready for to go." He kissed her on the forehead and waved goodbye to Isa.
"Papa?" Giselle asked, as they were halfway up the stairs. "Will you be at supper?"
"Yes darling."
"And," She hesitated. "And will mother?"
Christian sighed gazed out the window, for a moment it seemed as if he wouldn't answer.
"Yes darling. Yes, your mother will be at dinner." He sat back at the window and Giselle went up the stairs.
*****
"All you need is love!" Giselle belt out the words. Sure they were low but she could do it.
"A girl has got to eat!" Isa had the script because Giselle didn't need it. She had every word, note song and emotion embedded into her brain, right up until the new part that is.
They were reading the entire play, singing the songs as they went along. They shot the lyrics back and forth, falling in love with Christopher and Satina, the two that fell in love. They were determined to make the play come alive.
"Then we'll write a song, and we'll put it in the show!" Giselle gasped, stopping dead in her tracks. "This is the part he added." She exclaimed. She flipped to the music and skimmed through the words. She smiled, "Listen," She told Isa and began to sing the words.
"Never knew I could feel like this,
It's like I've never seen the sky before.
Want to vanish inside your kiss,
Everyday I'm loving you, more and more."
Giselle sang her heart out, she adored this song. It was everything she ever believed in, especially the chorus.
"Come what may,
Come what may,
I will love you,
Until my dying-"
"WHERE did you get that?" The voice that came from the doorway was cold and surprised, practically screaming.
Giselle and Isa jumped up. Giselle threw the script on the bed and folded her hands behind her back.
"Hello mother. How was your evening?"
"Perfect, I got the part." She held out her hands and Giselle rushed into them. Her mother cleared her throat. Giselle sighed and stood back, sinking into a deep curtsy. As soon as she stood up, she hugged her mother around the waist, her mother's arm snaked around Giselle's waist, hugging her close. She put her head into Giselle's hair.
This was where Giselle got all her beauty. Her mother was tall, slim and graceful. Giselle came up to her mother's shoulder, their hair colors blending in with each other.
"I've missed you mother." Giselle said.
"Darling, I've missed you too. Being in Connecticut was horrible without my baby girl. Every thing was so bleak without you to lighten the mood."
"Will you have to go to Connecticut for the rehearsals?" Giselle asked.
"No. No, they're based in New York, I don't understand why I had to go up there." She shifted her eyes to Isa. "Who's this?"
"Mother this is Isa. Isa this is Satine, my mother." Giselle said.
"Ah, so this is the wonderful Isa that I have heard so much about." Isa curtsied, getting the impression that Satine was proper and Isa should present herself as so. Satine nodded, acknowledging her curtsy. "What is that?" Satine asked, spotting the script on the bed.
"It's papa's script."
"Script? What script?" Satine asked, her face pale.
"Love at the Moulin Rouge." Satine screamed, covering her mouth with her hand.
"What?" She hissed. Giselle pulled back, suddenly afraid.
Satine picked up the script and flipped to the back pages, the pages the song was on.
"Oh God!" She breathed. "No! No, he can't do this." She fell to the floor and started to breathe heavily.
"Mother," Giselle cried, kneeling besides her mother. "What's wrong? What is the matter?"
"I... I... I got to go." She scrambled to her feet, ran into the hall and slammed the door.
Giselle looked towards Isa.
"I'm sorry," She said and ran to her mother's room.
She knocked on her mother's door, listening to her mother's sobs behind it. She opened it.
There Satine was, sitting on the plush velvet bed, with the red sheets that Giselle had once buried herself under to hide from the dreaded nightmares. So many memories of happiness they held, now so much pain was on it.
"Mother? What's wrong." She sat in front of her mother's bed and laid her head in Satine's lap. "Was it the song?" Satine nodded.
"My baby, my beautiful baby girl. My baby Giselle." She grabbed her arms and lifted Giselle up besides her, placing her in her lap. "I love you darling. I love you more than anything else in the world. Yes, darling it was the song."
"But why Mother? It was so pretty."
"Yes, I know." Satine wiped tears from her face. "Oh, darling. You have no idea what that song is do you? You know nothing of your past, nothing of us." She smoothed her hair.
"The song, what does it have to do with it?" Giselle pressed.
"When-" She stopped, hesitated and inhaled. "When you were a baby, your father made up that song. We would sing it to you, every night. You wouldn't go to sleep unless you heard it." She smiled. "You were so spoiled."
Giselle could tell that she wasn't telling the whole truth, even still, it felt good to hear her talk about the old days, the days when her parents were in love.
"Now, go to your friend, she's very nice. It wouldn't be proper if we left her all alone in this big house." Giselle looked at her mother. She didn't want to leave her but she did want to visit with Isa. She nodded and left.
*****
One week after Isa left, the script was done. Broadway was so eager to put the play into production that it held auditions the day the full script was off the printer. Christian Smith soon became the best play writer in New York.
"Papa, can you believe it? You're in the paper again. Listen," Giselle said as she, her mother and father were gathered in the parlor. "Christian Smith has done it yet again. He has provided beloved New York with a play full of passion, drama, sorrow and love. He has written it as if he actually had experienced the fiery love of Christopher and Satina, as if he actually had his lover die in his arms, never to awake again. And now, with the opening just six months away, tickets are being sold already, many are scrambling to hear just a bit of the magic this show has promised." She dropped the newspaper. "Papa, Mother, why are you looking for the lovers, you two would be perfect."
Christian looked to Satine. She shook her head. "No darling. No we wouldn't."
"I think you would." Giselle said. "You two have wonderful voices and-"
"Giselle!" Christian shouted. "That is enough." He breathed hard. Satine looked at him, horrified for his shouting. "You're mother and I can not play the part, that is final."
Giselle swallowed and nodded. Silence enveloped the room, tension thick. "Excuse me." She said and got up. She ran to her room, the sounds of sobs echoed from the hall.
"Christian." Satine started. "Why, why in hell did you do that? She was just trying to-"
"Satine, she mustn't know. She wouldn't understand. She would hate us." Satine burst into tears, her mass of red hair slowing coming untied.
He remembered the days she would wear her hair down, just for him. He always said he loved her hair down, free, just like her. His fingers itched to touch her, they itched to wipe away her tears but he didn't.
You don't love her anymore. Remember that. Christian nodded. He couldn't love her, wouldn't love her. Not ever, never again. He had already been hurt once.