The dull sound of boxes hitting the floor could be heard withing the walls of the Moulin Rouge. Following the thuds would be the sound of someone sifting through the contents of the box. The sound had been a constant thing for the past eight years, so it alarmed no one. With only the light from a few candles, a woman picked out a stack of papers and began to search through them.
"Satine!" a voice whispered. The red-headed Satine turned to face the older woman who had called her name. The woman, Marie, was standing behind her, holding a folder covered with dust. "I think I found it."
"Oh! Marie, did you?" Marie handed the folder to Satine, who opened it and began to sift through the pages. Among the pages of typed papers were a few scattered handwritten pieces. Satine looked up at Marie. "This is it! This is what we were looking for!" She smiled broadly.
"Do you mind me asking why you were looking for it so hard? What is it?"
"Scripts from 'Spectacular Spectacular'. See here," she held out one of the handwritten sheets. "Christian wrote these. He wrote all of the script."
Marie suddenly looked sad. "Satine, why don't you let go of the boy? He thinks you are dead."
Satine's head snapped up. "And who's fault is that?" she retorted.
"The Duke's."
"Not Christian's. He didn't do anything except mourn me!"
Marie walked up to Satine and held her arm. "It was for the best, Satine. Had Christian known you were alive, he would have come for you. He would have been killed for it. The Duke still has his eyes set on getting rid of the boy. He's still trying to win you over."
Satine's mouth hung open. "Win me over? He threatened to kill Ryan if I didn't marry him! That's why we moved; why we came to live with you."
"I know. But Christian can never know you are alive. Never."
Satine sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway. He's been gone for years. He went back to London and published his book."
"I know, Satine. You bought it and read it so much the pages tore out."
"Yes." Satine put the papers back in the folder and straightened up. "We should go. Ryan will be home soon."
"Satine!" a voice whispered. The red-headed Satine turned to face the older woman who had called her name. The woman, Marie, was standing behind her, holding a folder covered with dust. "I think I found it."
"Oh! Marie, did you?" Marie handed the folder to Satine, who opened it and began to sift through the pages. Among the pages of typed papers were a few scattered handwritten pieces. Satine looked up at Marie. "This is it! This is what we were looking for!" She smiled broadly.
"Do you mind me asking why you were looking for it so hard? What is it?"
"Scripts from 'Spectacular Spectacular'. See here," she held out one of the handwritten sheets. "Christian wrote these. He wrote all of the script."
Marie suddenly looked sad. "Satine, why don't you let go of the boy? He thinks you are dead."
Satine's head snapped up. "And who's fault is that?" she retorted.
"The Duke's."
"Not Christian's. He didn't do anything except mourn me!"
Marie walked up to Satine and held her arm. "It was for the best, Satine. Had Christian known you were alive, he would have come for you. He would have been killed for it. The Duke still has his eyes set on getting rid of the boy. He's still trying to win you over."
Satine's mouth hung open. "Win me over? He threatened to kill Ryan if I didn't marry him! That's why we moved; why we came to live with you."
"I know. But Christian can never know you are alive. Never."
Satine sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway. He's been gone for years. He went back to London and published his book."
"I know, Satine. You bought it and read it so much the pages tore out."
"Yes." Satine put the papers back in the folder and straightened up. "We should go. Ryan will be home soon."