The soft pitter-patter of raindrops announced a soft morning rain.
Christian sat up in bed; a blanket pulled up around him. All last night he
could only think of Satine watching him. Had he disappointed her by
forgetting her so soon? Or was she pleased he'd finally talked to his
friends?
Vivid imaginations were sometimes a curse. Once last night he imagined Satine with him, as she was before she died. Twice, he'd been visited by her, as she would be now. A rotting corpse. Her beautiful skin was a disgusting pale green color, and fell off in chunks. A skeleton like figure just peeked out of the pile of rotted flesh, haunting him with cruel words.
Needless to say, he had not slept very well. But as he heard soft footsteps on the boards above his head he realized Toulouse must be awake. Toulouse had offered to go with him to try and get it published, and apparently he meant it. Christian composed himself and got his papers all together.
Meanwhile, upstairs Toulouse had just woken up. He had nightmares last night. He always did, and they didn't bother him all that much, usually. Last night he had one about his friends, and Satine. Mainly Christian and Satine, and it was one of the creepier ones. He shuddered as he wrapped a small jacket around himself.
No need thinking about dreams. Dreams are the children of an idle brain. Toulouse checked to see Satie was all right, because he had had an unusually large amount to drink last night. Then he left the room, shutting the door lightly behind him.
"Ah! Christian! Wonderful to see you again!" Toulouse exclaimed at the sight of Christian just leaving his room. He knew Christian had not slept well, and he knew he had been thinking of Satine. It showed in his eyes.
"Hello Toulouse." Christian greeted him with another smile. The third or so in two days. He thought it must be some kind of record. Toulouse's inquisitive look always amused him, especially when he pretended not to notice half of what he saw. The writer in him noticed things just as Toulouse did, and he suspected that must be the painting side of Toulouse.
"Sleep well?" Toulouse asked cheerfully as they passed the old landlady. Christian paused and shook his head. Why did Toulouse do that? He had no idea. He suspected no one really noticed Toulouse did this, and just took him for a very amusing, artistic, somewhat innocent, and somewhat naïve person. Which could not be further from the truth.
"I kept thinking about Satine." He admitted; deciding it did not matter. Christian wanted to focus on Satine today. Everyday, really. His little friend would have to wait his turn. Toulouse just nodded, and they continued on their way to the most known of the publishing companies, just outside Montmarte.
They were shown into a rather fancy office, and asked to wait as the man who decided whether a book was to be published or not, read their piece. Christian sat still staring intently around the room most of the time, and Toulouse fidgeted as he soon got bored with the room.
"I finished." A heavy and rather tired voice announced. An elderly looking man stepped into the room, holding Christian's book. He handed it back and sat behind his desk. He had light maple colored hair just beginning to turn white, penetrating emerald eyes, pale skin etched with lines of age, and a beard that would rival The Doctor's. He smiled at them, revealing yellowish teeth.
"And I must say it was one of the most emotional books I have ever read. If you did live through that, I'd like to give you my condolences for whatever living hell you went through after that. By the way, my name is Jacob Tolkien." Jacob rattled off in his slightly wheezy voice.
"You mean you'll publish it?" Toulouse exclaimed before Christian responded about the offered condolences, worrying it may not be what the man wanted to hear.
"Yes! You're Christian, then?" He asked Toulouse, fixing him with a curious gaze.
"No. I'm Toulouse, he's Christian." Toulouse corrected him, gesturing at Christian. Toulouse sat in silence, watching them both as they discussed things like money, and copies, and such.
Half an hour later, the two were walking away from the place. Both of them were genuinely excited, and both thrilled the money was to be so good. Christian would receive 60 francs for each copy it sold. And judging by how good it was, Jacob had estimated that at least a few hundred copies would be bought. All they had to do was print copies first, but in a month the book would be out on shelves.
"60 francs! Do you know how many glasses of good absinthe you can get with that?" Toulouse gushed, positively bouncing around in his excited state.
"No idea. But absinthe does sound like a good thing right about now." Christian replied, still smiling. Definitely a record, he thought. It's been hours! He hardly dared to think he was over Satine. Because just as they passed the train station, little did he know his life would be changed forever.
Just stepping off a train was a young woman. Wisps of tangled auburn hair fell to her shoulders, falling into her chocolate eyes. Long lashes and darkly tanned skin, as well as strawberry lips made her look attractive, innocent, and dangerous all at once. Which she was. A girl with a temper, a girl with a dream, and with Bohemian ideals about to be put to the test. Her name was Pearl.
(Note: Just so you know their will be no romance with Christian. Satine and Christian are for forever!)
Vivid imaginations were sometimes a curse. Once last night he imagined Satine with him, as she was before she died. Twice, he'd been visited by her, as she would be now. A rotting corpse. Her beautiful skin was a disgusting pale green color, and fell off in chunks. A skeleton like figure just peeked out of the pile of rotted flesh, haunting him with cruel words.
Needless to say, he had not slept very well. But as he heard soft footsteps on the boards above his head he realized Toulouse must be awake. Toulouse had offered to go with him to try and get it published, and apparently he meant it. Christian composed himself and got his papers all together.
Meanwhile, upstairs Toulouse had just woken up. He had nightmares last night. He always did, and they didn't bother him all that much, usually. Last night he had one about his friends, and Satine. Mainly Christian and Satine, and it was one of the creepier ones. He shuddered as he wrapped a small jacket around himself.
No need thinking about dreams. Dreams are the children of an idle brain. Toulouse checked to see Satie was all right, because he had had an unusually large amount to drink last night. Then he left the room, shutting the door lightly behind him.
"Ah! Christian! Wonderful to see you again!" Toulouse exclaimed at the sight of Christian just leaving his room. He knew Christian had not slept well, and he knew he had been thinking of Satine. It showed in his eyes.
"Hello Toulouse." Christian greeted him with another smile. The third or so in two days. He thought it must be some kind of record. Toulouse's inquisitive look always amused him, especially when he pretended not to notice half of what he saw. The writer in him noticed things just as Toulouse did, and he suspected that must be the painting side of Toulouse.
"Sleep well?" Toulouse asked cheerfully as they passed the old landlady. Christian paused and shook his head. Why did Toulouse do that? He had no idea. He suspected no one really noticed Toulouse did this, and just took him for a very amusing, artistic, somewhat innocent, and somewhat naïve person. Which could not be further from the truth.
"I kept thinking about Satine." He admitted; deciding it did not matter. Christian wanted to focus on Satine today. Everyday, really. His little friend would have to wait his turn. Toulouse just nodded, and they continued on their way to the most known of the publishing companies, just outside Montmarte.
They were shown into a rather fancy office, and asked to wait as the man who decided whether a book was to be published or not, read their piece. Christian sat still staring intently around the room most of the time, and Toulouse fidgeted as he soon got bored with the room.
"I finished." A heavy and rather tired voice announced. An elderly looking man stepped into the room, holding Christian's book. He handed it back and sat behind his desk. He had light maple colored hair just beginning to turn white, penetrating emerald eyes, pale skin etched with lines of age, and a beard that would rival The Doctor's. He smiled at them, revealing yellowish teeth.
"And I must say it was one of the most emotional books I have ever read. If you did live through that, I'd like to give you my condolences for whatever living hell you went through after that. By the way, my name is Jacob Tolkien." Jacob rattled off in his slightly wheezy voice.
"You mean you'll publish it?" Toulouse exclaimed before Christian responded about the offered condolences, worrying it may not be what the man wanted to hear.
"Yes! You're Christian, then?" He asked Toulouse, fixing him with a curious gaze.
"No. I'm Toulouse, he's Christian." Toulouse corrected him, gesturing at Christian. Toulouse sat in silence, watching them both as they discussed things like money, and copies, and such.
Half an hour later, the two were walking away from the place. Both of them were genuinely excited, and both thrilled the money was to be so good. Christian would receive 60 francs for each copy it sold. And judging by how good it was, Jacob had estimated that at least a few hundred copies would be bought. All they had to do was print copies first, but in a month the book would be out on shelves.
"60 francs! Do you know how many glasses of good absinthe you can get with that?" Toulouse gushed, positively bouncing around in his excited state.
"No idea. But absinthe does sound like a good thing right about now." Christian replied, still smiling. Definitely a record, he thought. It's been hours! He hardly dared to think he was over Satine. Because just as they passed the train station, little did he know his life would be changed forever.
Just stepping off a train was a young woman. Wisps of tangled auburn hair fell to her shoulders, falling into her chocolate eyes. Long lashes and darkly tanned skin, as well as strawberry lips made her look attractive, innocent, and dangerous all at once. Which she was. A girl with a temper, a girl with a dream, and with Bohemian ideals about to be put to the test. Her name was Pearl.
(Note: Just so you know their will be no romance with Christian. Satine and Christian are for forever!)