Jocelyn plopped on her bed exhausted. She was in the elephant, and had
just finished her show for the evening. She was hoping to get a good rest.
The past two weeks had been absolute chaos.
She had been performing every night, and during the day were rehearsals. Harold had been considering whether to give Spectacular Spectacular another shot, but it was still undecided. Meanwhile she learned three new routines and various other dances to keep the crowd entertained. Also she was spending every other waking moment with Charlie. He was a very charming young man and Jocelyn had grown quite fond of him. They went on picnics if the weather was nice, had marvelous dinners whenever she had the night off and he even took her to the opera. Jocelyn was star-struck when they arrived, to be surrounded with the rich, upper class and to see a wonderful play. It was fantastic.
But with the sweet comes the sour. Peter never spoke to her anymore, as a matter of fact he tried to avoid her whenever possible. Jocelyn tried to make peace but once again she was turned down. Finally she gave up. Everyday it hurt to see him but eventually she became immune to those feelings, she also ignored him like everyone else. It was neither the best nor the easiest choice but in the end it seemed the only thing to do, after all he did the same thing. He treated her like he did everyone else, like another face in the crowd.
Also, Christian was growing weaker. His cough that always seemed to follow him turned into a cold then worse. He hadn't left his bed in a week, and he had a slight fever. Jocelyn tried to take care off him but she barely had anytime for anything. Usually he was asleep by the time she got home, and then in a few hours she'd have to get back to work, other nights she didn't come home at all. Soon she would have enough money to bring Christian to a doctor, and hopefully he would be able to give Christian something to cure him or at least help him gain some of his loss strength.
"Chickpea?"
Jocelyn groaned to herself as she heard Harold call from behind the door. He used one of his many "pet" names he had for her. Slowly she made her way to the door and tried not to look as tired as she felt.
"My dear, is everything alright?" he asked.
"Yes of course Harold, why do you ask?"
"Oh, never mind. What time will you be meeting with Charles?"
Jocelyn sighed and turned away from Harold. She walked over to the window and looked out on the village.
"I was hoping I could…"
"Yes I know dear," Harold said cutting her off. "But I'm afraid I promised Charles that you would have dinner with him tonight. I would love to give you the night off, really I would but we can't break our promises now can we?"
"Of course not," Jocelyn smiled, turning around. "How silly of me. Tell him I will be in the Gothic Tower at 8:30 sharp. Now go, I must get ready for tonight."
"Yes, I will see you later dearest," Harold said closing the door with a big grin on his face.
Jocelyn's smile faded as she sat in front of her mirror. She would be there for a while, trying to hide the dark circles under her eyes and liven up her tired face. She was having second thoughts about the Moulin Rouge.
Later as the clock on the wall chimed quarter after 8 Jocelyn was about ready to leave. She did a decent job on her appearance. She was wearing a red satin dress and her arms and neck were covered in diamonds. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in curls as half of it was pinned up with a sparkling barrette. Fighting back a yawn she started down the steps and into the Moulin Rouge courtyard. No stars glittered that night due to the black clouds that were hanging in the sky. Monmartre was expecting a storm, they had received warnings for it all week and tonight seemed the night it would stike. Jocelyn walked quickly across the courtyard towards the Gothic Tower.
"Jocelyn!"
Jocelyn turned in the direction of the voice and saw Peter running up to her. He had come through the doors that led to the streets, she wondered what he had been doing out of the Moulin at this time of night.
"Jocelyn! I'm glad I found you!" he said, out of breath.
"You're going to make me late!" she said annoyed.
"There's no time for dinner or whatever you're doing!" Peter said, grabing her hand.
"What do you want?" Jocelyn asked, taking back her hand hastily.
"I ran into that guy…uh…Toulouse! That's his name! He told me to come find you, it's urgent."
Her heart sank. "What?"
"Toulouse was about to come for you, your father is in the hospital."
"Where's Toulouse now?"
"He went back to the hospital, they're waiting for you, I said I'd bring you there."
"C'mon we have to hurry!" Jocelyn exclaimed, grabbing Peter and running to the doors. "Which way?"
"This way," Peter replied.
They both ran through the streets to the hospital with Peter leading the way. Jocelyn franticly ran to the front desk.
"Christian James' room please."
"Family or friend?"
"I'm his daughter."
"He's down that corridor, room 120 Miss James," the nurse replied.
"Thanks," Jocelyn said, running down the corridor.
At the way end of the corridor was room 120. Satie, and the Argenentian were standing outside. They gave her curious looks but let her pass without asking questions. Toulouse was sitting on a chair inside and there on the bed was Christian. Jocelyn leaned on the bed and grabbed her father's hand.
"He's been waiting for you," Toulouse said. "I'll leave you two alone."
"Papa?" Jocelyn said quietly as the door was shut. "Papa? Can you hear me?"
Christian mumbled and slowly opened his eyes. His vision was a little blurry but he thought he was seeing Satine. As it cleared he saw it was Jocelyn sitting by him. He smiled.
"Hello darling," he said.
Jocelyn smiled and let out a sigh of relief. "Papa, you're okay." She hugged him gently and placed a kiss on his forehead. He gave her hand a small squeeze and wiped the tear that was falling down her cheek.
"Don't cry sweetheart."
"Well then don't scare me like that," she laughed, blinking back the other tears.
"I'm sorry, to tell you the truth I don't really remember what happened," Christian said.
"Don't worry about it, you should get some rest. We'll see how you feel in the morning okay?"
"I'll be fine," he said. Christian sat up a little and looked at his daughter. "You look absolutely beautiful."
"Thank you," Jocelyn replied. "Your probably wondering how I got like this."
"Yes it did cross my mind. After all you do look like you're the richest woman in Monmartre."
"Well, there's something I have to tell you…"
"You didn't get married to some rich guy did you?"
Jocelyn laughed. "No, nothing like that."
"That's a relief," Christian grinned.
"But seriously. The reason why I look this way is because of my job."
Christian's grin fell. "Your job?"
"Yes, you see…well…I didn't want to tell you this way but I guess it can't wait now. Papa, I work at the Moulin Rouge."
She had been performing every night, and during the day were rehearsals. Harold had been considering whether to give Spectacular Spectacular another shot, but it was still undecided. Meanwhile she learned three new routines and various other dances to keep the crowd entertained. Also she was spending every other waking moment with Charlie. He was a very charming young man and Jocelyn had grown quite fond of him. They went on picnics if the weather was nice, had marvelous dinners whenever she had the night off and he even took her to the opera. Jocelyn was star-struck when they arrived, to be surrounded with the rich, upper class and to see a wonderful play. It was fantastic.
But with the sweet comes the sour. Peter never spoke to her anymore, as a matter of fact he tried to avoid her whenever possible. Jocelyn tried to make peace but once again she was turned down. Finally she gave up. Everyday it hurt to see him but eventually she became immune to those feelings, she also ignored him like everyone else. It was neither the best nor the easiest choice but in the end it seemed the only thing to do, after all he did the same thing. He treated her like he did everyone else, like another face in the crowd.
Also, Christian was growing weaker. His cough that always seemed to follow him turned into a cold then worse. He hadn't left his bed in a week, and he had a slight fever. Jocelyn tried to take care off him but she barely had anytime for anything. Usually he was asleep by the time she got home, and then in a few hours she'd have to get back to work, other nights she didn't come home at all. Soon she would have enough money to bring Christian to a doctor, and hopefully he would be able to give Christian something to cure him or at least help him gain some of his loss strength.
"Chickpea?"
Jocelyn groaned to herself as she heard Harold call from behind the door. He used one of his many "pet" names he had for her. Slowly she made her way to the door and tried not to look as tired as she felt.
"My dear, is everything alright?" he asked.
"Yes of course Harold, why do you ask?"
"Oh, never mind. What time will you be meeting with Charles?"
Jocelyn sighed and turned away from Harold. She walked over to the window and looked out on the village.
"I was hoping I could…"
"Yes I know dear," Harold said cutting her off. "But I'm afraid I promised Charles that you would have dinner with him tonight. I would love to give you the night off, really I would but we can't break our promises now can we?"
"Of course not," Jocelyn smiled, turning around. "How silly of me. Tell him I will be in the Gothic Tower at 8:30 sharp. Now go, I must get ready for tonight."
"Yes, I will see you later dearest," Harold said closing the door with a big grin on his face.
Jocelyn's smile faded as she sat in front of her mirror. She would be there for a while, trying to hide the dark circles under her eyes and liven up her tired face. She was having second thoughts about the Moulin Rouge.
Later as the clock on the wall chimed quarter after 8 Jocelyn was about ready to leave. She did a decent job on her appearance. She was wearing a red satin dress and her arms and neck were covered in diamonds. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in curls as half of it was pinned up with a sparkling barrette. Fighting back a yawn she started down the steps and into the Moulin Rouge courtyard. No stars glittered that night due to the black clouds that were hanging in the sky. Monmartre was expecting a storm, they had received warnings for it all week and tonight seemed the night it would stike. Jocelyn walked quickly across the courtyard towards the Gothic Tower.
"Jocelyn!"
Jocelyn turned in the direction of the voice and saw Peter running up to her. He had come through the doors that led to the streets, she wondered what he had been doing out of the Moulin at this time of night.
"Jocelyn! I'm glad I found you!" he said, out of breath.
"You're going to make me late!" she said annoyed.
"There's no time for dinner or whatever you're doing!" Peter said, grabing her hand.
"What do you want?" Jocelyn asked, taking back her hand hastily.
"I ran into that guy…uh…Toulouse! That's his name! He told me to come find you, it's urgent."
Her heart sank. "What?"
"Toulouse was about to come for you, your father is in the hospital."
"Where's Toulouse now?"
"He went back to the hospital, they're waiting for you, I said I'd bring you there."
"C'mon we have to hurry!" Jocelyn exclaimed, grabbing Peter and running to the doors. "Which way?"
"This way," Peter replied.
They both ran through the streets to the hospital with Peter leading the way. Jocelyn franticly ran to the front desk.
"Christian James' room please."
"Family or friend?"
"I'm his daughter."
"He's down that corridor, room 120 Miss James," the nurse replied.
"Thanks," Jocelyn said, running down the corridor.
At the way end of the corridor was room 120. Satie, and the Argenentian were standing outside. They gave her curious looks but let her pass without asking questions. Toulouse was sitting on a chair inside and there on the bed was Christian. Jocelyn leaned on the bed and grabbed her father's hand.
"He's been waiting for you," Toulouse said. "I'll leave you two alone."
"Papa?" Jocelyn said quietly as the door was shut. "Papa? Can you hear me?"
Christian mumbled and slowly opened his eyes. His vision was a little blurry but he thought he was seeing Satine. As it cleared he saw it was Jocelyn sitting by him. He smiled.
"Hello darling," he said.
Jocelyn smiled and let out a sigh of relief. "Papa, you're okay." She hugged him gently and placed a kiss on his forehead. He gave her hand a small squeeze and wiped the tear that was falling down her cheek.
"Don't cry sweetheart."
"Well then don't scare me like that," she laughed, blinking back the other tears.
"I'm sorry, to tell you the truth I don't really remember what happened," Christian said.
"Don't worry about it, you should get some rest. We'll see how you feel in the morning okay?"
"I'll be fine," he said. Christian sat up a little and looked at his daughter. "You look absolutely beautiful."
"Thank you," Jocelyn replied. "Your probably wondering how I got like this."
"Yes it did cross my mind. After all you do look like you're the richest woman in Monmartre."
"Well, there's something I have to tell you…"
"You didn't get married to some rich guy did you?"
Jocelyn laughed. "No, nothing like that."
"That's a relief," Christian grinned.
"But seriously. The reason why I look this way is because of my job."
Christian's grin fell. "Your job?"
"Yes, you see…well…I didn't want to tell you this way but I guess it can't wait now. Papa, I work at the Moulin Rouge."