Chapter 2
Christian set out. He was on his way to the one place he dreaded going. Going back to the Moulin Rouge would bring back every aspect of her death. He had stayed away from it ever since that fatal day. She really did fly away, just like she wanted. He thought staring at the ground. He couldn't bear to look up. His soul felt heavy and his heart ached. But the worst thing of all is there was nothing anyone could do about it. He reached the front of the Moulin Rouge and just stared up at it. All his memories good and bad came rushing back into his mind like a flood of stones. Every moment he had with Satine all came back. He couldn't go in. His body wouldn't let him. No matter how badly he wanted to, he was frozen there. There was only one way his body would let him go, and that was back to his hotel room. So he turned around, and walked back, not even touching the door handle of the Moulin Rouge.
Maybe I'll fly away. Maybe tonight. He thought to himself, and devising a plan. I'll go home, pack, and make my way back to London. Trains usually leave at midnight; I'll be able to catch one of them. His plane was carved in stone. He was leaving Paris forever, on that night. He reached his hotel room, and changed from the suit to his other worn and raggedy cloths. I'm not going to say goodbye to anyone. I'm going to disappear; just like she did. A tear slide down his cheek, and alongside of his nose. He was finished packing, but he still had lots of time until he would have to leave. He lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
"We should be lovers." He dreamed.
"We can't do that."
"We should be lovers and that's a fact."
"Though nothing – "
"Never knew I could feel like this. Like I've never seen the sky before. Want to vanish inside your kiss, everyday I love you more and more." He rolled over in his sleep. "Come What May, come what may."
"I will love you until my dying day." He suddenly awoke. He heard a voice outside his door. Could it be her? Was she alive? He ran and opened the door, but nothing. No one was there. I dreamt she was at my door. Stop doing this to me! I can't handle it anymore! Please, just let me deal with my sorrow in peace. I need to stop dreaming about her every night! He thought as he walked back to his bed. He looked at his pocket watch. It was already 3 o'clock in the morning. He'd definitely missed the train. Shit. He took 3 shots of Absinthe in succession, and passed out on his bed.
"Today's the day Christian. Today's the day when dreaming ends." She whispered into his sleeping ear. "Christian? Christian? Wake up." He didn't even flinch. A settling look came over her face. She lay down next to him, and fell asleep.
Christian awoke the next morning, with a hangover, and the worst headache of his life. Wow, I must be getting bad. I dreamt that Satine was here. I am so screwed up. He went into the bathroom. He had yet to see the sleeping beauty on his bed. When Christian was in the bathroom, Satine woke up. She had indeed been real. She was alive. She fluffed up her hair, and looked in a mirror before he came out of the bathroom. When he emerged, she was sitting on the side of his bed, her back facing towards the bathroom.
"Oh my god. Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" He asked stepping back. She didn't say anything, but rather she just turned around, reveling her face.