"Learn to Love Again"
by Dakota Reighn
Chapter 3: World So Cold
Hours had past since the two strangers had been left together in the rundown hotel room. It was barely big enough for one person to live in, let a lone two. Abrielle had piled Christian's clothes back into his suitcase and dropped it on the floor next to the place where he was standing. "What do you think you're doing?" Christian asked frigidly, he never expected the girl to stay.
"You're sleeping on the floor." Abrielle said as she began to put sheets she had brought onto the bed. Christian had begun to protest when Abrielle cut him off. "It's the least you can do, you aren't supposed to be here." Christian was silent; he was in no mood to argue with her. "Why are you staying here?" Abrielle asked before sitting down on top of the creaky spring mattress. "The same reason you are." Christian responded vaguely, he didn't have to explain anything to this girl.
"Amende, you don't have to speak to me." She said as she pulled a hairbrush from an open parcel of luggage next to her on the bed. "But if we're both going to be here, don't you think we should at least become friends?" Abrielle began brushing her long, straight, cinnamon colored hair as she spoke to him. Her eyes were quiet intriguing, solid sea green with a ring of brown around her dark pupils. Christian hardly ever looked at her while they spoke, but her two-tone eyes were the first things he noticed.
"I don't want to be your friend." Christian said, sitting down at the timber table that held his typewriter. "Well. Then maybe you should have left." Abrielle said, a little disappointed in her roommates behavior. "You have no reason to be unkind to me, what is it that I have done to make you so angry?" She said standing up. "You've aligned yourself with that place, I don't want anything to do with anyone who will be there." Christian said as he began pressing down keys.
Abrielle turned away and stepped into the small washroom that had no door. Pinning her hair up with clips, Abrielle reached down and began letting the hot water pour into the tub. Christian didn't look up from his typewriter as she took an extra blanket from her bed and hung it in the doorway from splinted wood and an unused nail. Christian ripped the piece of paper from the typewriter and crumbled it into a ball, the fresh ink smearing the words together. He took a deep breath and tossed the ball of paper onto the ground near him.
Abrielle opened her eyes as the noise of the nightlife of France crept through the small curtains of the washroom window. She sighed heavily to herself, she had never expected her new life in Montmatre to be so complicated. This was Abrielle's big chance to become a star, more than just a singer and dancer, but an actress. She smiled to herself slightly; everything in her life seemed meaningless now. Abrielle closed her eyes as she soaked in the warm water nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of Christian typing.
A pile of crinkled paper had accumulated when Abrielle had emerged from the washroom wearing a beautiful kimono robe. Her hair hadn't gotten wet and was still fixed up above her shoulders. She carefully folded the dress she had worn for the day and tucked it into her travel case. Abrielle cleared her others things from the bed before her gaze shifted to the paper that littered the semi-clean floor. Grabbing the bin designated for trash, Abrielle began picking up the crumbled paper and tossing them into the basket. "You can clean up after yourself, you look like a grown man." She said, slamming the trash can down next to Christian's chair.
Without word, Christian continued typing. Turning down the sheets, Abrielle sat down on the bed, bent on starting conversation. "What is your name Monsieur?" She asked, neither of them had introduced themselves formally. He still refused to answer her. "My name is Mademoiselle Abrielle Par due." "Christian." He finally said looking up from the typewriter. "Do not hate me Monsieur Christian, you don't even know me." Abrielle spoke trying to make things right between them.
"I'm not the Moulin Rouge, I only must work there. If you understood what I have been through in my life, you'd know what this job is so important for me." Abrielle said proudly, hoping Christian would open up to her. "You understand nothing about that place." Christian said, unwilling to talk about it. "You understand nothing because you weren't here months ago, you don't know what happened..." Christian said going back to his typewriter; to him it was an escape from real life. An escape from the truth about what happened at the Moulin Rouge.
"Then tell me Christian. Help me to understand." Abrielle said as she stood from the bed knelt down next to Christian's chair. "I'll never understand why you hate the Moulin Rouge so until you tell me." She said sincerely. Christian got up from his seat and walked to the nearby wall. "It's none of your business." He said, not wanting to be near anyone. "We hardly know each other." He finished with as he ran his hands over his face, exhausted from the events of his day.
"When passion's lost and all the trust is gone. Way too far, for way too long." Abrielle began singing, the sound of her beautiful voice caught Christian off guard. "Children crying, cast out and neglected." He added, a song still lingered inside of his soul. Abrielle paused for a moment; this was her chance to make Christian open up to her. "Only in a world so cold, only in a world this cold." His world was cold; Abrielle could feel the icy chill as he spoke, as he sang.
"Hold the hand of your best friend, look into their eyes, then watch them drift away." Satine was all that Christian could think about. If only he had know, if only he had seen the signs. How could he be so blind that he couldn't even see she was dying? "Some might say we've done the wrong things, for way too long." "For way too long" Abrielle stood from the ground and sat down in the chair that Christian had vacated. She could hear the pain in his voice. All Abrielle wanted to know was what caused that pain, and why was he lashing out at her for it?
Christian pushed off of the wall and made his way to the window. He wanted to let go of all his feelings; he wanted to hurt no longer. "Fever inside the storm," "So I'm turning away. Away from the name." Christian belted out as if everyone in Montmatre could hear him. "Calling your names." Abrielle quickly echoed, she was beginning to see the pieces of the puzzle that Christian had tried so hard to keep her from putting together. "Away from the stones." "Throw sticks and stones." "'Cause I'm through mending the wounds of us." Christian sang out before hitting the palm of his hand on the side of the windows panes. Abrielle stood from the chair and walked to Christian's side.
She was about to place her hand on his shoulder, but Christian shrugged his shoulder away. Abrielle turned to face the other way placing her back against the wall next to the window. "Keep your thorns. 'Cause I'm running away, away from the games. Head games. Away from the space. Hate this headspace. The circumstances of a world so cold." They sang together, Christian repeating after Abrielle crooned.
"Burning whispers, remind me of the days, I was left alone, in a world this cold." Abrielle sighed, how could she make Christian understand that she wanted to be his friend. "Guilty of the same things, provoked by the cause, I've left alone, in a world so cold. Fever inside the storm," She sang out, bringing them back to a familiar chorus. "So I'm turning away." Christian cooed softly, whole forming a plan in his mind. He stepped out of the open window and onto the tiny balcony. Abrielle was puzzled, moving from the wall to the window. "Away from the name." Abrielle placed her hands on opposite sides of the window, watching Christian as he sang into the night air.
"Calling your names. Away from the stones. Throw sticks and stones. 'Cause I'm through mending the wounds of us. The circumstances of a world so cold." There was a pause before Christian began singing again. Abrielle hugged her arms around herself; the night air was icy and unforgiving. Then, Christian did the unexpected. The small cast iron bankment on the edge of the balcony was short; Christian was able to step right over it. There he stood, on the tiny edge of the balcony with everyone in the streets to watch his every move. Abrielle became frightened and made her way climbing through the window on to the balcony.
"Why does everyone feel like my enemy? Don't want any part of depression or darkness. I've had enough, sick and tired, bring the sun, or I'm gone, or I'm gone!" Christian sang out with so much anger in his voice, so much pain. He raised his arms from his sides and felt the wind blow against every part of him. Then, suddenly, he felt her hand on his arm. Abrielle's grip was firm; she wasn't letting him go anywhere.
"Only in a world so cold, only in a world this cold. The circumstances of a world so cold..."