Disclaimer: I don't own moulin rouge or Satine and I'm not writing this for profit. So don't sue me. I have no money.

I am Satine, smart, beautiful, talented and extremely rich. I was born here in England sixteen years ago today. I'm sure Daddy will have a mountain of presents for me. It's a pity Mama isn't here. I still have her picture on my bureau. She died giving birth to me. Daddy loved her with all his heart and according to my sister Alice, has never been the same since.

All the same I hold in my heart morals that many people have called childish and naive. I believe in true love at first sight and I believe in art and expression. It's my dream to be an actress but of course it's forbidden. I'm very much Daddy's little girl and I'm glad he doesn't hold Mama's death against me. Alice used to be the favorite but ever since she married a Protestant he hasn't spoken to her. Quite the opposite with me, ever since she's become a hero to me for letting no one stand in the way of true love and hope to do something brilliant like that myself someday.

This morning I woke up feeling happy all over. The March sun was shining in through my white curtained window and I felt a pleasant glow all. The maid, Rosa came bustling in with warm water and my freshly ironed best dress. I jumped out of bed.

"Morning Rosa."

I began washing in a hurry. Downstairs there was a special breakfast, my favorite: eggs, sausage and fresh fruit and tons of beautiful gifts. Jewelry, a new dress, and a wonderful new novel from "my pen friend Mildred." (That's the name Alice uses when writing to me). Daddy had an old snobby looking man along whom I assumed was one of his scholarly friends, rich, stuffy and deathly boring. He too had brought me a present so I decided to be nice to him.

"Satine, this is Mr. Dumont," said Daddy. I smiled politely.

"Ever so pleased to meet you Mr. Dumont."

He handed me the present which was wrapped in gold paper and inside I found some very fancy French perfume. I sprayed some of it and nearly suffocated from the overwhelming odor.

After breakfast Daddy led both of us into the parlor. I had tried to dash upstairs to try on my new dress and maybe start my novel but Daddy caught me and insisted I play piano for Mr. Dumont. I was surprised for usually Daddy let me do whatever I wanted as long as I wasn't running away to France with Protestants.

It was then I understood who Mr. Dumont was: A suitor. The same thing happened when Alice was sixteen. Men, dreadful, old, boring men, began coming trying to win her heart and her money. It's no wonder she ran away, Daddy ought to have seen that but I guess not. So I played piano for Mr. Dumont and sung a very boring song which pleased him immensely as I knew it would. The song was almost as boring as him. He then told me a long story involving him and a bank and something to do with the stock market. Obviously he thought it made him sound heroic but it only made him sound duller. Daddy saw me drifting off and chose then to announce that he had another birthday present for me. Tickets to my favorite play: "Romeo and Juliet" which always got me in tears. I jumped up and hugged him around the neck.

"You're the best Daddy!" And I ran upstairs to get ready. It took me nearly two hours to get ready because I couldn't decide what to wear. Finally I picked a dark blue dress which looks lovely with my eyes. I put on rouge and not horrendous perfume and then inspected myself vainly in the mirror. I was beautiful and I knew it. My sister Alice looked a lot like me only she was blond. When she had lived at home I had always compared myself to her and felt ugly. Then I was a silly teenager and even the prettiest teenagers feel awkward. Having a sister who caused men to swoon at the sight of her didn't help. Now I knew I had been silly to compare myself to her. She may have been prettier but I had something else, an exotic look that she would never have.

Rosa came in, bustling around, straightening my dress. Rosa has cared for me ever since I was very small. In fact I can't remember a time when she hasn't been there to sing me to sleep and tell me stories. Now that I'm older, she guides me through becoming a woman and I don't know where I'd be without her. She's more a mother to me than my own Mama is. No fault of Mama's of course. I'm being silly to compare them.

When I was ready, I rushed downstairs and into the hall where Daddy and Mr. Dumont were waiting. I put on a light weight jacket because it was starting to get colder out. Mr. Dumont offered me his arm as we got in the carriage. I could think of a lady like way to refuse so I simply pretended not to see it. All the way to the theater Mr. Dumont tried to make conversation with me.

"I think the key to a good relationship," he was saying, "Is trust. I think you should have honest conversation and never be afraid to tell the truth." Daddy gave me a fierce look. He knew I was longing to say that the truth was I though he was old, smelly, boring and pompous. Instead I said simply.

"What about love?" He looked at me like I'd grown horns. Then he laughed.

"Dear child, there are more important things then love. One needs food and clothes and a bed to sleep in. How would you know, you are so young? You must have watched one too many romantic plays!" and then he was off on a rant about the theater. "Putting foolish ideas in peoples heads! Making them forget reality!" I was getting angry. Daddy was treating him to the theater and all he could do was complain. I looked at Daddy and saw that his face was carefully expressionless.

"I like the theater." I said firmly. "And if you don't, no one is making you go." He ignored me and I felt like smacking him. Luckily for him and probably for me too because Daddy would have murdered me, we arrived and the theater and I found it far easier to forget he existed there.

The theater was one of my favorite places on earth. I loved the way it smelled- perhaps slightly like musty curtains and costumes and paper. For me that's the smell of performance and adventure. When one is on stage, you are no longer yourself. You cannot see the audience so the whole world is truly a stage. At least that's what I've heard. Daddy would never allow me on to act on stage. 'Isn't lady like.' I know I can act though, Alice and I used to put on our own mad perfomances in the garden.

We had a private box to ourselves, Daddy had arranged it. It was so good of him. Through the play Mr. Dumont tried several times to take my hand but each time he reached for it I suddenly got an itch and would have to scratch it. I watched the play so enthralled I quickly forgot him. I had seen it many times before yet never tired of it. The man who played Romeo was the best Romeo yet but I thought I'd make a better Juliet. I whispered along with my favorite lines and by the time it was over I was in tears.

It made me think. Thinking was something I seldom did seriously but now I was getting older so maybe with age comes thought. Maybe that's why old people are so stiff. Why did adults always think they knew what was best? Daddy is lovely in many ways and I know he cares about me and wants the best for me but I think there are some things I know better than him. Like my heart. What does he know about that?

I was so deep it thought as we headed out I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and when I stopped thinking I realized I'd lost Daddy and Mr. Dumont. How could they not have noticed that I wasn't with them? How could I have let myself get so lost in thought that I'd gotten lost in reality? It wasn't the first time. Trying not to panic I headed toward the stage figuring if I stood on it I'd be able to see where they'd gone. I was so distracted as I scanned the crowds that I didn't notice the dark-haired boy come stand beside me until he put his hand on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around.

"Ain't lost are ye? miss…" he asked. He gave me a white toothed smile. I looked at the floor suddenly shy.

"Satine and I'm not lost sir. I know where I am. Its my father who's lost," I said. He nodded.

"Anything I can do to help?" he said. Before I could answer I saw Daddy and That Horrible Man heading toward us.

"There they are," I said with a smile, still not looking up at him. Gently he took one finger and turned my face up forcing me to face him. He took my hand and kissed it.

"If ever you need help, just call for Rik. Anyone here will know who I am."

I found I couldn't look away from his deep hazel eyes. Finally I looked away and blushed deeply. I'd never been shy in my life but this strange boy unnerved me in a way no one ever had before.

"Bye and thank you but I won't ever see you again."

I began walking to Daddy and I heard him call from behind me.

"You never know."