A/N: Thanks to my reviewers : Satine, LOTR Sparkling Pippin, Tani, MoulinRougeistheBEST, and Courtney.
And also, I don't know how long a flight to France and back is so ten hours is my guess and my mom's guess.
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Meeting The B.O.H.O.S.
Ten hours, five bags of peanuts, 1 movie about dogs, 5 bathroom breaks, and 2 beers later, Christian arrived in Montmartre. As the plane came to a halt, Christian stood up. The Duke turned around, gave him a sort of disgusted look, and grabbed his carry on. He marched straight off the plane and into the terminal, Christian right behind him. They rounded the next corner and another one after that. The Duke, obviously paranoid, turned around and stopped Christian in his tracks.
"Boy, may I ask why you are following me?" The Duke asked, his temper growing shorter. Christina hesitated for a second, fearing the Duke, before answering.
"Well, I, uh….You see sure, uh, I….I am going to Montmartre to write about Truth, Beauty, Freedom, and Love," Christian finally sputtered out.
"Well, as am I. I warn you boy, we cross tracks again and I shall see you dead," The Duke advised, making Christian want to slump down and cry. He gulped and straightened up, realizing that he shouldn't be taking this.
"Yes sir," Christian replied firmly. The Duke turned around and continued through the doors. Christian walked out into the cool night and hailed for a taxi. The streets were close to empty now, for it was about 2:00 am. Worried about getting a taxi, Christian began to walk slowly down the side of the street. The Duke had gone up the other way with his chauffer and his man servant, Warner.
Christian had only a small bag, which made his journey much easier. It was a good thing too, there seemed to be no taxis in sight for a while. Christian rounded each corner and crossed every street until finally reaching the actual city of Montmartre. His feet had grown quite weary by now and he was feeling short on breath. He, now, stood in front of a fairly large, but fairly indecent, hotel. The name, being in French, was difficult for Christian to make out so he simply ignored it and entered it.
A small women with wild red hair, pulled back into a tight but massy bun, sat, sleeping behind the desk. Every so often, loud snores would erupt from her, making it quite hard for Christian to get her attention. After many tries, Christian gave up and put down his bag. He reached behind her desk and grabbed the key to the room he had reserved. He almost had it when the key slipped from his fingers and into the lap of the sleeping women.
"Shit!" Christian slipped under his breath. He gently reached down and proceeded in grabbing the key when a strong fist grabbed his arm and held it tight.
"What do you think you're doing, laddie?" The women gasped in her raspy voice.
"Um, sorry m'am. I was getting my key," Christian said, sheepishly.
"N' you didn't bother to ask me?" The women stirred, getting up from her seat, which seemed like such a challenge for her due to the great gasps and moans coming from her. "Who are you?"
"Christian James," He replied, still a little shy and looking down at the ground.
"Look at me when you're speakin' please," The women muttered, flipping through a big book. "Ah, let's see, James, James, James. Ah, `ere it is, James, Christian James. Right, does your key say room b-3?"
"Yes, m'am, it does,"
"Well, go on Laddie! Get to your room! N' don't go botherin' other people at 3:00 now, kay laddie?"
"Yes, m'am," Christian bent down and grabbed his bags in his hands. He smiled to the women and walked straight upstairs, to the third floor. His very own garret that he now rented, practically owned. He unlocked the door in a nervous fret and walked in. He dropped his bags and crashed on the bed, not to open his eyes until morning.
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A small knock on his door awoke Christian the next day. Unwillingly, he opened one eye and then the next. He pulled one leg over the bed as the knocks grew louder.
"Coming!" Christian called, groggily. He walked up the door and opened it to reveal a miniature man of about 4 feet.
"How do you do? My name is Henri Marie Raymond Toulouse Letrac Montfa!" The man exclaimed, bowing.
"Good afternoon sir, I am Christian," Christian replied, smiling slightly. He backed away to let Toulouse enter.
"I am the caretaker of this place! Anything you need?" Christian just shook his head, in hopes that Toulouse would leave him alone to sleep. But, instead, Toulouse glanced over at the heap of papers on Christian's floor. "Ah, you're a writer?" He limped over to the heap, with his cane, and picked them up and began to look through them.
"Yes, I am," Christian replied, snatching the papers from Toulouse. A loud thump erupted from the top floor. Toulouse looked up as a furious look swept over his face.
"Damn B.O.H.O.S.!" He shouted, shaking his fist in the air. Christian looked at Toulouse puzzlingly. "The B.O.H.O.S. are a group of five men, me (for shame), A Narcoleptic Argentinean, a "Doctor", Audrey, and Satie," Toulouse said, not moving his eyes from the ceiling. Christian nodded and looked back up at the ceiling as well.
"Darn floor! They used to make them weaker in the old days!" Cried a voice from the upstairs. Toulouse grabbed Christian's hand and dragged him towards the door.
"I'll show them!"
The two raced upstairs and into the room.
"B.O.H.O.S.! Please stop making all this noise!"
"But, Toulouse, the Narcoleptic Argentinean fell unconscious! He should have fallen through the floor but he didn't cause the damn floors are so strong!" Satie explained. Another B.O.H.O. started to speak but Christian interrupted.
"So, exactly, what does B.O.H.O.S. stand for anyway?" Christian asked. Smiles that were originally on their faces, swept away and they looked around at each other for answers. None of them seemed able to answer, however, so Satie saw it right for a change in subject.
"Ah, now that the Narcoleptic Argentinean is unconscious, how will continue to practice?"
"Christian can do it!" Toulouse exclaimed. So, before he knew it, Christian was up on a mountain made of cardboard.
"We need to figure out the right song for this," Audrey said.
"The hills are alive with the sound of music!" Christian sang out. A loud applause came form them.
"Bravo, you should write our movie!" Toulouse exclaimed with excitement.
"But I am the director!" cried Audrey.
"Well, I am sorry Audrey, but, Christian seems to be our new Craig Pearce and Baz Lurhmann!" Deeply hurt by that comment, Audrey went into his room and slammed the door behind him.
"Christian, here is your first glass of absinthe,"