Chapter 1
Summer In Paris
It is 1899, the summer of love. I know nothing about Moulin Rouge, even though I've heard about it before. And that was the reason I have traveled from London to Paris. Yes, Moulin Rouge!
The editor in newspaper office where I have worked had sent me to a village near Paris, Montmarte. It wasn't like my boss had said, for a moment I could picture him saying this, " The village of sin!" (Apparently, that is why, I, as the youngest journalist, was sent here.) But it was the center of Bohemian world. Musicians, writers like myself, and painters, including my only connection to Moulin Rouge, the famous painter, Henri Marie Toulouse de Lautrec Monfa.
I have imagined that, as a famous person, he must be live in a fancy place. But when I finally reached his apartment, and after the hostile landlady took me to his room, I saw the dirtiest door I've ever seen. It took a few knocks on it before a dwarf, dressed as a nun, opened it.
"What!?" he said abruptly.
"Well, I'm looking for Mr. Lautrec, Toulouse Lautrec."
"You're looking at him," said the dwarf with a grin.
"You are Mr. Lautrec? The famous painter?"
"What? You expect someone taller?" suddenly the grin has gone.
"No, no!" I lied, "I'm just surprised to see you with the dress."
"Oh, this?" he pointed his dress and the smile came back, "we are rehearsing a play." He suddenly realized that I was still standing in front of the door. So he pulled me into the room, or actually, grabbed my hand and threw me to the couch.
"It's very modern," he continued, "called, 'Spectacular Spectacular'. And it sets in Switzerland."
I was so amazed by him that I didn't notice four other men in that room. One of them who was bald and talked like he whispered said, "Toulouse, who is he?"
"He is..," said Toulouse, "he is.. Who are you?"
"Christian, the journalist." I decided to explain more when I saw his eyes moved from right to left, as if he has forgotten about our appointment several months ago."
"I wrote to you two months ago, I am the journalist from London, wants to write about Moulin Rouge, ring a bell?"
His another friend, who looks like a Latino, maybe an Argentinean said, "Ooh.. I love journalists."
"Oh, yes, of course! How could I forget?" said Toulouse finally.
"Oh, I didn't know that you're working with another writer," said another man who was wearing… a woman clothes?
"No, no. He wants me to be his connection to Moulin Rouge. You see, he's making an article about it."
"He came in a right time then," said his another friend, who looked a little bit older and was wearing a tall hat, "we're going there tonight."
"Yes, you see.. We have a meeting with the investor for the show," said Toulouse, "I will introduce you to your guide, she knows Moulin Rouge better than anyone else, even Zidler the owner himself. She is the number one courtesan, the star of Moulin Rouge, the Sparkling Diamond, she is Satine!"
"Satine?" I repeated the name, which I thought, was a beautiful name. The lady must be a beautiful one too. And important! I couldn't meet her like this.
"Oh, OK. But I don't have anything to wear," I said.
"We'll think about it later, but first..," he didn't finish his words, for he and his friends, already knew what he was meant, were smiling to each other. A minute later, I have tasted my first glass of… Absinthe!
I didn't feel anything when I drank it, but afterwards, a pretty little green fairy flew and danced around my head, and giggled happily. I didn't know why, but I was trying to catch her. She ran here and there, so I followed her everywhere. She went outside the room, so I went out, too.
I walked, I walked, and.. Fell. I didn't notice the downstairs in front of me. So I fell through it.
The last thing I heard were sounds of laugh and someone said, "he only drinks a glass and look at him now!"
And then I fainted.
The chapter's title is taken from a song by a singer from my country, Anggun. Yeah, Go Anggun! Again, pls review.. I will appreciate it no matter how bad it can be.
Happy reading!