Learn to Love Again
by Dakota Reighn

Chapter 2: Without You

Christian sat in the windowsill of the open pane that looked clear across the street to the Moulin Rouge. The newly transformed theater had sat vacant for months, no one wanted to touch it sine Satine's death. That was until a man named Weller bought the theater, with the full intention of running a full scale production of "Spectacular; Spectacular." The thought of someone else atoning to the stage of everything Satine worked for made Christian sick. He drowned his sorrows in a Whiskey bottle that was nearly empty. His beard had become thicker and more haggard looking. His stained white shirt hadn't been wasted in days, that same going for his unkempt hair. His black trousers were wrinkled and hadn't seen a washtub or hot iron for weeks.

Christian took a long imbibe from the liquor bottle before hurling its remnants into the street below where the passersby didn't even seem to notice. The village had become like a ghost town, all intoxicated and completely unaware of the outside world. Christian was different, he was angry. He was angry at the world because he had to live in it without Satine. All that was left in Christian's room was a suitcase full of the only clothes he had. Everything else was provided for him when he came. Christian couldn't bear to stay in Montmatre any longer, everything there reminded him of Satine. Everything in his room reminded him of Satine, they had shared it together for many nights while they both were alive.

He had cleaned the room while packing his things; it was a disaster beforehand. Christian had tried to begin to write the story of their love, but the memories were still too fresh and painful. The floor had been scattered with hundreds of pieces of paper, some filled with gibberish, others containing only one or two written words. Christian scattered many of them out the window, the others he burned in the small sink for washing. His typewriter was something he couldn't bare to abandon, it was safe in its case next to the suitcases of his clothes. One day, Christian would be able to tell the story of his love for Satine, that day just wasn't near.

Christian took one last glance at the Moulin Rouge; he hated it so much. Everything about the Moulin Rouge, everyone in the Moulin Rouge had taken a little piece of Satine away from him. Because of them, she was dead. Christian slid off the windowpane; he couldn't bear to look at the mill any longer. Grabbing his black coat from the tidy bed, Christian had one last person to say good-bye to before his train left France for good.

Satine's grave lay elegantly on the top of a hill, underneath a vast, blooming tree. It had only been a week since her funeral; the soil that filled in the void in her resting place was still fresh with no grass atop it. The sight of her headstone was enough to make Christian's eyes misty though he fought hard to keep from weeping. "Satine..." He said softly, he didn't know how to speak to her. "I'm leaving Montmatre tonight, I'm leaving France completely." Christian said, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry, without you, nothing is keeping me here." He said, a tear rolling down his cheek. "I'll write our story, I just...I don't know when I'll find the courage too." Christian said as the tears began to flow from his eyes. "I can't stay here."

"Without you, where do I belong?" Christian began to sing softly, his tears fading away. "Without you, how can I go on? No love but yours will ever do. Tell me how am I supposed to live my life, without you." The words came freely to him, like they were torrential from his soul. Questions he needed to know, but not even Satine could answer them.

"There's no laughter in the air, only silence everywhere. And so much left unspoken. Since you've been gone, I haven't been the same. I wish that I could see who's to blame." Christian began softly, seating himself in the grass next to Satine's grave. "Without you, where do I belong? Without you, how can I go on? No love but yours will ever do. Tell me how am I supposed to live my life, without you." Christian belted out, coming out short of breath.

"Was I lost in you and me? To the point I couldn't see, that what we had was dying. Now it's all that I can do to see photographs of you and stop myself from crying." He sang softly, tears beginning to form again in his eyes. "I should learn to live without your love. Got so many memories, but it's not enough. Without you, where do I belong? Without you, how can I go on? No love but yours will ever do. Tell me how am I supposed to live my life, without you."

"I feel helpless, and all so all alone. Like I never felt before. You made me feel alive, but I don't remember what it's like, anymore." Christian held out his last word for what seemed like minutes. Inside, he was dead. There was no longer anything to feel pain, no longer anything to suffer. "Oh baby how where do I belong. Please tell me, how can I go on..." By the time Christian had finished the last verse, he found himself curled into a ball next to Satine's grave. The earth below his face had begun to turn to mud as Christian began to sob uncontrollably.

He lay there, crying, for hours. The sun was almost completely hidden by the horizon when Christian had picked himself up from the site of his lover's grave. The dirt had stuck to his beard and the coarse skin of his face. He used the sleeve of his coat to clear his face and wipe the hardened tears the still lingered on his face. His train was set to leave in just over an hour; Christian didn't know if he could leave the side of his love. Taking everything that still remained inside of him, Christian found himself standing in his room, bags in hand. His train ticket stuffed in the pocket of his jacket, Christian was really going to leave France behind.

When he had entered the building, a taxi carriage had been unloading a large amount of luggage. Without even noticing anyone in the shammy lobby, Christian made his way to his room to retrieve his own baggage. The door to his room was open, and suddenly, two figures stood in it. Christian saw them from the corner of his eye, but did not turn his gaze to meet them. He knew they must be the poor souls who were going to be living there.

"Ah, here we are Mademoiselle Par due, this is your room." A man said as he stepped into the room. "Sadly..." A woman said following him in, carrying a few small parcels of luggage. The two glanced at Christian concerned, but did not dare speak to him. "It will do until ma maison is complete." The girl said, setting her things down on the bed. "Look at the view Abrielle, it is magnifique!" The man said as the woman hurried to his side. Christian could no longer take their company, and headed out the entry with his things.

"You can see the Moulin Rouge from my window." The woman said, her French accent was thick even when she spoke English. As her words traveled to Christian's ears, the words of the dreaded theater made him stop in his tracks. "I cannot wait to start fonctionnement in that beautiful place. The story is absolutely beautiful." She said, clasping her hands together as she spoke about the establishment.

"What are you talking about?" Christian asked as he turned and faced back into the room. "M'excuser, I do believe this is a private conversation." The girl said, appalled at Christians rudely manor. "Do not be unkind Abrielle." The man said revealing the woman's name as Abrielle. "Fine then, do you know que the Moulin Rouge is?" Abrielle asked, moving to the bed to unpack some of her things. "Of course, just tell me what it is you are doing there." Christian said, beginning to become annoyed.

"If you must know, I am playing the female lead in Spectacular; Spectacular. It is a play that is being..." Abrielle began to speak before being cute off by Christian. "I know what it is, I was there on opening night..." Christian said angrily, the nerve of the owner to continue the play he wrote. "Well, then you know all about it I see." Abrielle said, trying to be polite. "Jean Luc, would you please go retrieve some of my other baggage, I will be down in a minute to help you." She said sweetly as she unpacked her linens onto the bed.

"You can't stay here." Christian said suddenly as Jean Luc began to walk past him. "Que?" Abrielle asked, sometime forgetting what she was speaking. "I mean, what did you say Monsieur?" "I said, you can't stay here." Christian stormed into the room and threw his things onto the bed. Abrielle quickly moved her hands and look blankly at Christian. "But...but..." She stumbled on her words, "The owner said I could, you must move out. This is my room now." Abrielle said, looking to Jean Luc for help.

"The owner isn't here. I have changed my mind. I'm not leaving." Christian said, flinging open his own suitcase and piling the clothes onto the bed. "Please, stop Monsieur." Abrielle pleaded with him. "You must leave now." Christian didn't listen to her; his temper had begun to flare. "You are welcome to stay, but I am not leaving." Christian said slamming his suitcase shut and pulling it from the bed.

"I am not staying with you! Jean Luc, tell him I am not living with him." Jean Luc looked at her with compassionate eyes. "You have no where else to go Mademoiselle, your house is not finished." Jean Luc said before going to retrieve the rest of Abrielle's luggage.

"I am leaving as soon as my house is ready, do you hear me?" Abrielle said, pounding her fist on the wooden table as Christian unpacked his typewriter. "Answer me you fool. You cannot do this to people, who do you think you are?" Abrielle yelled as Jean Luc came back with the rest of Abrielle's things. "I must be going now, Abrielle." Jean Luc said as he kissed her once on each cheek. Shutting the door behind him, Jean Luc left Christian and Abrielle, complete strangers, alone together in the silence of their room.