Love is just a Game

Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, Satine, Christian (though I really wanna..lol) or anything of that sort!!

A/N: It's 1999. Satine and Christian have not yet met. Christian is a famous author and has written many books. Satine is a singer and a dancer at a local bar. When Satine comes out with a book of her own called Love is just a Game, she writes about her ideas of truth, beauty, freedom, and love and how they only interfere with our lives. Christian comes to change her mind.

P.s. I'm pretty sure New York does not have direct flights to Montmartre but I made Christian have one anyway so please don't mind that!!

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Escaping New York

"There finished!" Christian slammed the book shut. He exposed his goofy boyish smile and swept the book up in his hands. He pulled it closer to his mouth and planted a large kiss on the cover. He, then, placed it off to the side. He got up from his chair and went to the phone. He gently pressed the numbers into the phone and pulled it up to his ear. He heard a few rings before a man with a raspy voice answered it.

"Hello?" said the voice over the receiver.

"Hello, can I speak to mister Neville please? Thanks!" Christian held tight to the phone, his hands gripped with excitement. A man with a more soothing voice, yet firm, answered it this time.

"Hello?"

"Mister Neville! I finished, I finally finished!"

"Finished what exactly?"

"My book! You know, my book, Your Song?!" Christian was losing the excitement in his voice.

"Oh, right. The one about the guy who goes and tries to destroy a ring?"

"uh, no, sir…The one about the girl who falls in love with the man who has cancer,"

"Oh, uh, sorry. Right, ok…..um….bring it to me, it sounds kind of good.."

"Yes, sir," Christian had lost all of his happiness now. Not only had Mr. Neville forgotten he had written a book but he had forgotten the title! Christian really could not stand the man sometimes. In fact, he hated the man at the most. He never respected his workers. He treated them likes pieces of crap, like they were nobody. Though, one thought still stuck in his mind, he was going to get his book published. He was more than excited about that. Then again, the only way he could get it published was if Mr. Neville liked his work and would give him a good recommendation to the editors.

Christian replaced the receiver back on the base of the phone and grabbed his jacket. He placed his dark blue hat on his head and stepped out the door.

He busily strolled down the street, waving or smiling to people he knew. He didn't bother to catch a cab when New York City, which was were he was currently living, had so many sidewalks. It took him just about 5-10 minutes to get anywhere in the city, well from where he was located. So, in just a few minutes, Christian reached his destination. He opened the big glass doors and built up his confidence as he continued to walk into the building. The pearly floor held Christian's friendly and happy reflection. The brass elevators seems to open for him as he approached them and the employees welcomed him with open arms.

He stood in the elevator, watching the numbers, on the panel to his right, light up a fluorescent yellow. His body began to tense up as he slowly reached the top floor. The numbers of floors had increased from ONE, TWO, THREE to now: FIFTEEN, SIXTEEN, SEVENTEEN, and finally, EIGHTEEN. The wide doors opened for Christian. He stepped out and proceeded to Mr. Neville's office.

A large gray door stood in front of Christian. He took a deep breath and walked straight into the room.

"Mr. Neville, It's me!"

"Ah, Christian, my boy. How are you doing on this fine day?"

"Oh, what a fine day it is sir! I am doing quite well thank you! And yourself?" Christian replied, trying his best to suck-up.

"Just Fine, thank you!" Christian walked toward him, holding his book in his hand. He thrust it into Mr. Neville's hands. Mr. Neville looked down at the blue cover of the rather large book. He slowly opened it's cover and revealed it's front page.

"Christian, you really shouldn't have spent time writing this! If you really wanted to write something than write something useful!"

"Like….Like what?" Christian asked, quite dumbfounded and upset that he had been insulted.

"Well, like books we can learn from or we actually care about reading! I am a business man and I don't have time to read this!" A frown swept Christian's bright smile off his face. He snatched the book from Mr. Neville's hands and turned to walk out the door.

"Christian?! Christian?! Come back here. Christian!"

Christian ignored Mr. Neville's cries and stalked out of the room. When passing a near-by trash can, Christian tossed the book inside. He knelt against the wall, his heart filled with anger and hatred toward Neville. He let out a few sharp and heavy breaths and continued out the building, leaving his book behind.

He came back to his apartment and slammed the door. He sat by his typewriter and took out a shot glass along with a body of brown liquid, beer, the other green fairy. He poured the alcohol into the glass and took it to his mouth. He nearly inhaled it but instead it went into the right tube and settled in Christian's stomach, whilst burning his throat.

I'm going to go away! I'll go to a place where people can appreciate my work and praise me for it! But where should I go? England…no, too crowded……Scotland…no, to scenic…I need to go to a place where there is a ton of beauty…I got it!

Christian quickly swept across the room to his collection of old movies. He pulled out a classic called Moulin Rouge (52') starring Jò se Ferrer, Zsa Zsa Garbor, and Suzanne Flon.

I'll go to Montmartre…………

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Three days later…..

Christian packed his bags for his trip to Montmartre. Bringing with him, his notebook of ideas, extra paper, his lucky pen, and a few suits and t shirts, and his toothbrush. He grabbed his long blue overcoat and hat, as he stepped out the door. He walked into the elevator with his luggage at hand. He was alone in the elevator except for a book that laid upon the floor. He bent down and placed his suitcase on the floor. He picked up the book and grazed the cover with his finger. The title read A Life's Journey. The book appeared to not be a novel but a scrapbook. Christian flipped through the pages and was surprised to find them all black except for the first page. He leaned more into the book and read the curved writing.

The Greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.-Anonymous

Christian stared deep into the words as if he wanted them to tell him something he did not know. The words absorbed into his mind. If it had not been for the ring of the elevator, letting him know he had reached his floor, he would have stayed in that trance for hours upon hours.

Christian snapped out of it and took a few steps off the elevator, allowing those who wanted to get on, get on. He gripped his suitcase firm in his hands and proceeded out the door, ignoring those who said hi to him. The clerks, feeling insulted, did not grin at him as he left nor did they say goodbye.

"TAXI!!" Christian shouted to the yellow cabs merely thirty feet away. One pulled up in front of him and a man with, a rather disgruntled one, got out and took Christian's bag from him. Christian opened the door of the cab and gazed once more at the city around him. He carefully moved his feet inside and the reluctantly pulled the rest of him in the cab.

They took off rather fast. The only talking that came from the taxi was that of the radio. Christian folded his hands in his lap and waited. All the while, becoming more and more anxious to reach the airport.

At long last, the yellow cab pulled in front of the enormous building, full of windows. Christian climbed out of the cab and gladly paid the driver. He picked up his suit case and walked straight in through the doors. He strolled through the hallways, examining each interesting thing as he passed it. He made his way right through security and to his gate, ticket in hand.

After only a few moments, Christian got his boarding call. He got up and took his palace behind a tall man with stunning gold hair. He was dressed fairly nice and carried only a small bag by his side. When it was the man's turn, Christian heard the attendant ask for his ticket. The man gave it to him carelessly, and as if he had better things to do.

"Have a nice flight sir," The kind flight attendant remarked. The man looked over at her, disgusted.

"Thanks," he replied rather flatly. His voice was a little high pitched and now Christian noticed his mousy mustache.

Christian stepped up to the flight attendant.

"Hello sir, enjoy your flight!"

"Thank you m'am," Christian replied, smiling brightly. Christian walked through the terminal and onto the plane were he took his seat, directly behind the man he had seen in the line. The man would not talk to anyone but Christian took the liberty to ask him where he was from.

"Excuse me sir, how are you? My name is Chri---" Christian was cut off by the man's fairly loud snort.

"If you insist on talking to me, the Duke, then I suggest doing it to someone who actually cares," The Duke faced forward once more. Christian sat back in his seat. What a fun ride this would be.