Author's Note - - - I'm so sorry that this is such a short chapter, I
promise the next one will be longer!
"You what?!"
"I work at the Moulin Rouge," Jocelyn repeated, avoiding her father's angry eyes.
"I can't believe it…" Christian replied half angry, half in shock.
Jocelyn slowly got off the hospital bed and walked across the room. Silence followed her. It was so strange, she knew her father would blow up any minute. But the silence was more deafening, she wished he would say something.
"Papa, please don't be mad," she said finally. After he didn't answer she turned around. He was stiitng up, facing the other way. "Please," she said walking back over but still keeping her distance.
He still didn't answer.
"At least look at me!" she cried.
Christian finally looked at her, letting the anger and hurt show in his expression. "What do you want me to say Jocelyn? You know how I feel about the Moulin Rouge."
"Yes I know, but what I don't understand is why."
"You know…"
"No I don't!" Jocelyn protested. "It pays the rent, it pays for the medicine, and it will pay for this hospital bill. What is so wrong about making a little money, that's all I'm doing, would you rather I work in a dusty old factory or how about on the streets begging the rich for money?!"
"I don't care, you'll have to find somewhere else to work because I forbid you to go there!" Christian yelled as best he could.
"I'm not going to fight with you, I'm working at the Moulin Rouge and there's nothing you can do about it!"
They both stared at each other. There was another thing Christian gave her, a bad temper.
"Listen Papa," Jocelyn said, calming down and grabbing his hand. "I'm doing this for us. Soon we'll get enough money and we'll leave. We'll get away from Monmartre, Paris, and the Moulin Rouge. We'll start our lives over again, maybe we could go to London."
Christian stroked her cheek with his other hand and kissed hers. "Darling, you shouldn't be worrying about me. I'd rather see you live and have a good life than taking care of this old man. It is too late for me."
"Don't say such things!"
"But it's true."
"No! I would never go on with out you, I love you Papa, I would never even dream such a crazy idea. You are in my life and I intend to keep it that way. The Moulin Rouge won't change anything, I only wish you could believe me."
"The Moulin Rouge changes everything. Your mother is an example of that…"
Silence filled the room again. Christian didn't want to go further than that and Jocelyn didn't know what to say. They sat like that for a few minutes, then Jocelyn stood to leave.
"Papa, Mama can't be an example because all my life you never said more than a few words about her life and so since I can't understand the example I'm going back to work. I'll be home as soon as I can, please get some rest."
She turned and walked out of the hospital room. The bohemians were looking at her but she ignored their gazes. She didn't feel like dealing with any of them right now. Peter walked a few paces behind her but didn't say a word. He followed her back to the Moulin, still a few paces behind.
"Thank you Peter, you don't need to follow me, I can manage myself," she said harshly.
Peter, unsure of whether she would be okay, reluctantly went his own way. Jocelyn saw that the Gothic Tower was practically pitch black except for a small light weakly shining through the window. Now she had to worry about what Charlie would say and what Zidler would do.
"You what?!"
"I work at the Moulin Rouge," Jocelyn repeated, avoiding her father's angry eyes.
"I can't believe it…" Christian replied half angry, half in shock.
Jocelyn slowly got off the hospital bed and walked across the room. Silence followed her. It was so strange, she knew her father would blow up any minute. But the silence was more deafening, she wished he would say something.
"Papa, please don't be mad," she said finally. After he didn't answer she turned around. He was stiitng up, facing the other way. "Please," she said walking back over but still keeping her distance.
He still didn't answer.
"At least look at me!" she cried.
Christian finally looked at her, letting the anger and hurt show in his expression. "What do you want me to say Jocelyn? You know how I feel about the Moulin Rouge."
"Yes I know, but what I don't understand is why."
"You know…"
"No I don't!" Jocelyn protested. "It pays the rent, it pays for the medicine, and it will pay for this hospital bill. What is so wrong about making a little money, that's all I'm doing, would you rather I work in a dusty old factory or how about on the streets begging the rich for money?!"
"I don't care, you'll have to find somewhere else to work because I forbid you to go there!" Christian yelled as best he could.
"I'm not going to fight with you, I'm working at the Moulin Rouge and there's nothing you can do about it!"
They both stared at each other. There was another thing Christian gave her, a bad temper.
"Listen Papa," Jocelyn said, calming down and grabbing his hand. "I'm doing this for us. Soon we'll get enough money and we'll leave. We'll get away from Monmartre, Paris, and the Moulin Rouge. We'll start our lives over again, maybe we could go to London."
Christian stroked her cheek with his other hand and kissed hers. "Darling, you shouldn't be worrying about me. I'd rather see you live and have a good life than taking care of this old man. It is too late for me."
"Don't say such things!"
"But it's true."
"No! I would never go on with out you, I love you Papa, I would never even dream such a crazy idea. You are in my life and I intend to keep it that way. The Moulin Rouge won't change anything, I only wish you could believe me."
"The Moulin Rouge changes everything. Your mother is an example of that…"
Silence filled the room again. Christian didn't want to go further than that and Jocelyn didn't know what to say. They sat like that for a few minutes, then Jocelyn stood to leave.
"Papa, Mama can't be an example because all my life you never said more than a few words about her life and so since I can't understand the example I'm going back to work. I'll be home as soon as I can, please get some rest."
She turned and walked out of the hospital room. The bohemians were looking at her but she ignored their gazes. She didn't feel like dealing with any of them right now. Peter walked a few paces behind her but didn't say a word. He followed her back to the Moulin, still a few paces behind.
"Thank you Peter, you don't need to follow me, I can manage myself," she said harshly.
Peter, unsure of whether she would be okay, reluctantly went his own way. Jocelyn saw that the Gothic Tower was practically pitch black except for a small light weakly shining through the window. Now she had to worry about what Charlie would say and what Zidler would do.