Part VI
Like a Sparkling Diamond
More weeks flew by, and with each passing week, Satine's confidence grew. The rehearsal schedule she'd set for herself was rigorous, but in her eyes it was all worth it. Although she was getting less sleep than ever, she traversed the Moulin Rouge with more energy and confidence than ever. Seemingly over her inner conflicts about love, she devoted all of her time to improving herself and her performance.
"Look at 'er," Nini sneered as Satine glided past her like she was walking on air, "Strutting around like she's the queen..."
"Hush, Nini," hissed Mome Fromage.
"She thinks she owns the damn place." Nini griped.
"'Old your tongue!" Marie snapped, overhearing Nini's grumbles, "That girl is sweeter and has got far more talent than you'll ever have, Nini."
Satine remained relatively unaware to Nini's escalating jealousy. Zidler was also oblivious to Nini's jealousy. He was so thrilled with how his newest courtesan was in such high demand among the usual Moulin Rouge visitors that he was blind to nearly everything else. Every night, Satine found herself being introduced to a rich, prominent Parisian gentleman by an eager Zidler, who swore on the head of every person he'd ever met that he'd been saving his prized courtesan just for the gentleman.
"You'll never guess who's coming to the Moulin Rouge tonight, my duckling," Zidler sang, bursting into Marie's room, where Satine had set up a small dressing table. Presently, she was plucking her eyebrows and squinting into the grimy glass of the only whole mirror she'd been able to find.
"Do tell!" Satine said brightly, pursing her lips as she plucked another hair.
"Count Jacques Chretien of Nantes!" Zidler bellowed, swelling with pride.
"A count?" Satine exclaimed, glancing away from the mirror, "I can hardly wait, Harold!"
"And they say..." Harold paused for dramatic effect, "He has vaults full of jewels from his first wife!"
"I do love jewels!" Satine said, tossing aside her tweezers and fluffing her hair. "When can I meet him?"
Satine's days were basically all the same. The show at night, followed by an indeterminate amount of time with a client. The next morning Satine would rise, the hour determined by how late she'd been up the night before and how much she'd exerted herself. She'd spend the rest of the time until the show practicing in the dance hall or in her room and sometimes stopping for a tea and chat with Marie.
One day, while Satine was dancing in the dance hall, Zidler walked in with yet another man for Satine to meet.
"I'm tho thwilled about meeting your newetht girl, Zidler!"
"My sweet?" Zidler called, "Come and join us! Satine?" He led the gentleman into the dance hall in search of Satine.
Satine did not hear anything. Her face was tightened in concentration as she stretched, pulling one leg back behind her head.
"Satine!"
Satine looked up, startled. Standing beside Zidler was a man about half his size. He was clad in a black tuxedo and carried a wooden cane, and a black goatee obscured his sharp little chin.
"This is - "
"Henri de Raymond Toulouse-Lautrec Montfa!" the small man interjected, thrusting his hand into Satine's.
"Monsieur," Satine breathed, batting her eyelashes at an awed Toulouse.
"This is your newetht girl, Zidler? She'th thtunning!" Toulouse squeaked excitedly.
"Monsieur, I would love to get better acquainted with you," Satine purred, "Might I go slip into something more comfortable first?"
"Of courthe, of courthe!" Toulouse lisped, clasping his hands below his chin, "But huwwy back!"
"Excuse me just a moment." Zidler said, hurrying alongside Satine. He followed her to her room, where she began to get dressed.
"You're sure he's rich?" Satine whispered, pulling off the old clothes she used to practice in and reaching for some finer lingerie.
"He's a drunk that fancies himself a bohemian revolutionary," Zidler spat, "And blows what little money he has on girls and absinthe. He's been a faithful patron for years."
"All right," Satine said uncertainly, running a comb through her hair. She straightened her shoulders, flashed Zidler a smile, and hurried back to the dance hall, where Toulouse was waiting.
When Toulouse's eyes fell upon Satine, his jaw dropped. She was clad entirely in red - a red lace teddy, red garter belt and stockings, and red high heels, with a red feather boa wrapped around her neck.
"My dear," squeaked Toulouse, "You are a vision in cwimson!"
"Thank you," Satine said, tickling Toulouse under the chin with the edge of her boa.
"I really, truly mean it," Toulouse continued, "You look like...a thparkling ruby!"
"A ruby?" Satine pulled away, her lips forming a sexy pout. "Monsieur, I thought I was better than some - " she sniffed " - ruby!"
"Oh you are, you are!" Toulouse hurriedly amended, "You're like...a thparkling diamond!"
"A sparkling diamond," Satine mused, "I like that." She fixed an alluring eye on the quivering Toulouse, "But that's not all I like." She stepped closer to him, bending over a little to give him a better look at the pale cleavage that was spilling out of the teddy.
"No?" He stuttered, his eyes darting from her eyes to her breasts.
"No," Satine said seductively, wrapping the boa around his neck.
"She's incredible!" Zidler said to a group of diamond dogs, watching from the wings as his prize jewel led an all-too-eager Toulouse back to her room, "They're completely unable to resist her charms!"
"Humph!" Nini folded her arms over her chest, a sullen look on her face.
"What is it, lovely?" Zidler asked, concern written on his face, "What's wrong?"
"All I ever 'ear is 'Satine, Satine, Satine!'" Nini whined, "The rest of us - " she gestured to the surrounding girls " - are beginning to feel a little underappreciated."
"Don't be silly," Zidler chuckled, "You're all beautiful, talented girls. Satine is just..." he shook his head. "She's got something that the rest of you just haven't."
As Zidler walked away, Nini's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Whatever it is that she's got that I haven't," she announced loudly, "I'm gonna find and I'm gonna take, because no one tells Nini that she isn't good enough!"
And with that, Nini turned on her heel, her skirts swirling around her like a golden cloud, and stomped out of the dance hall.
Like a Sparkling Diamond
More weeks flew by, and with each passing week, Satine's confidence grew. The rehearsal schedule she'd set for herself was rigorous, but in her eyes it was all worth it. Although she was getting less sleep than ever, she traversed the Moulin Rouge with more energy and confidence than ever. Seemingly over her inner conflicts about love, she devoted all of her time to improving herself and her performance.
"Look at 'er," Nini sneered as Satine glided past her like she was walking on air, "Strutting around like she's the queen..."
"Hush, Nini," hissed Mome Fromage.
"She thinks she owns the damn place." Nini griped.
"'Old your tongue!" Marie snapped, overhearing Nini's grumbles, "That girl is sweeter and has got far more talent than you'll ever have, Nini."
Satine remained relatively unaware to Nini's escalating jealousy. Zidler was also oblivious to Nini's jealousy. He was so thrilled with how his newest courtesan was in such high demand among the usual Moulin Rouge visitors that he was blind to nearly everything else. Every night, Satine found herself being introduced to a rich, prominent Parisian gentleman by an eager Zidler, who swore on the head of every person he'd ever met that he'd been saving his prized courtesan just for the gentleman.
"You'll never guess who's coming to the Moulin Rouge tonight, my duckling," Zidler sang, bursting into Marie's room, where Satine had set up a small dressing table. Presently, she was plucking her eyebrows and squinting into the grimy glass of the only whole mirror she'd been able to find.
"Do tell!" Satine said brightly, pursing her lips as she plucked another hair.
"Count Jacques Chretien of Nantes!" Zidler bellowed, swelling with pride.
"A count?" Satine exclaimed, glancing away from the mirror, "I can hardly wait, Harold!"
"And they say..." Harold paused for dramatic effect, "He has vaults full of jewels from his first wife!"
"I do love jewels!" Satine said, tossing aside her tweezers and fluffing her hair. "When can I meet him?"
Satine's days were basically all the same. The show at night, followed by an indeterminate amount of time with a client. The next morning Satine would rise, the hour determined by how late she'd been up the night before and how much she'd exerted herself. She'd spend the rest of the time until the show practicing in the dance hall or in her room and sometimes stopping for a tea and chat with Marie.
One day, while Satine was dancing in the dance hall, Zidler walked in with yet another man for Satine to meet.
"I'm tho thwilled about meeting your newetht girl, Zidler!"
"My sweet?" Zidler called, "Come and join us! Satine?" He led the gentleman into the dance hall in search of Satine.
Satine did not hear anything. Her face was tightened in concentration as she stretched, pulling one leg back behind her head.
"Satine!"
Satine looked up, startled. Standing beside Zidler was a man about half his size. He was clad in a black tuxedo and carried a wooden cane, and a black goatee obscured his sharp little chin.
"This is - "
"Henri de Raymond Toulouse-Lautrec Montfa!" the small man interjected, thrusting his hand into Satine's.
"Monsieur," Satine breathed, batting her eyelashes at an awed Toulouse.
"This is your newetht girl, Zidler? She'th thtunning!" Toulouse squeaked excitedly.
"Monsieur, I would love to get better acquainted with you," Satine purred, "Might I go slip into something more comfortable first?"
"Of courthe, of courthe!" Toulouse lisped, clasping his hands below his chin, "But huwwy back!"
"Excuse me just a moment." Zidler said, hurrying alongside Satine. He followed her to her room, where she began to get dressed.
"You're sure he's rich?" Satine whispered, pulling off the old clothes she used to practice in and reaching for some finer lingerie.
"He's a drunk that fancies himself a bohemian revolutionary," Zidler spat, "And blows what little money he has on girls and absinthe. He's been a faithful patron for years."
"All right," Satine said uncertainly, running a comb through her hair. She straightened her shoulders, flashed Zidler a smile, and hurried back to the dance hall, where Toulouse was waiting.
When Toulouse's eyes fell upon Satine, his jaw dropped. She was clad entirely in red - a red lace teddy, red garter belt and stockings, and red high heels, with a red feather boa wrapped around her neck.
"My dear," squeaked Toulouse, "You are a vision in cwimson!"
"Thank you," Satine said, tickling Toulouse under the chin with the edge of her boa.
"I really, truly mean it," Toulouse continued, "You look like...a thparkling ruby!"
"A ruby?" Satine pulled away, her lips forming a sexy pout. "Monsieur, I thought I was better than some - " she sniffed " - ruby!"
"Oh you are, you are!" Toulouse hurriedly amended, "You're like...a thparkling diamond!"
"A sparkling diamond," Satine mused, "I like that." She fixed an alluring eye on the quivering Toulouse, "But that's not all I like." She stepped closer to him, bending over a little to give him a better look at the pale cleavage that was spilling out of the teddy.
"No?" He stuttered, his eyes darting from her eyes to her breasts.
"No," Satine said seductively, wrapping the boa around his neck.
"She's incredible!" Zidler said to a group of diamond dogs, watching from the wings as his prize jewel led an all-too-eager Toulouse back to her room, "They're completely unable to resist her charms!"
"Humph!" Nini folded her arms over her chest, a sullen look on her face.
"What is it, lovely?" Zidler asked, concern written on his face, "What's wrong?"
"All I ever 'ear is 'Satine, Satine, Satine!'" Nini whined, "The rest of us - " she gestured to the surrounding girls " - are beginning to feel a little underappreciated."
"Don't be silly," Zidler chuckled, "You're all beautiful, talented girls. Satine is just..." he shook his head. "She's got something that the rest of you just haven't."
As Zidler walked away, Nini's face twisted into an ugly sneer. "Whatever it is that she's got that I haven't," she announced loudly, "I'm gonna find and I'm gonna take, because no one tells Nini that she isn't good enough!"
And with that, Nini turned on her heel, her skirts swirling around her like a golden cloud, and stomped out of the dance hall.