Harold Zidler and his infamous girls. They called them his "Diamond Dogs." They came out onto the dance floor in brightly colored skirts that didn't stay still for a single moment, and sang dirty phrases to the men that came to call on them. Soon the whole dance floor was covered in Diamond Dogs and men, all dancing and singing their drunken hearts out. I had not been lied to. Moulin Rouge was most certainly the highlight of anyone's visit.

I soon joined the men on the dance floor, begging the women to give us a show. Everyone acted as if they knew each other, so I simply played along. Toulouse was at my side, dancing and singing with the rest of them. The Moulin Rouge was the place to be.

Silence fell as Harold Zidler announced the next dance, then everything started up again. There were skirts swishing, colors whirling, and women's voices ringing out into the steamy nightclub air. I was still all very new to this lifestyle, somewhat out of place with Toulouse and the locals. I guess the Absinthe must have caught up with me, because suddenly I felt myself very much belonging, singing with the rest of the night life.

It wasn't long at all until I was ushered to a small table with the rest of my Bohemian friends. Toulouse excitedly told me that his plan had worked. Zidler had been convinced. Just then the hall fell silent and the lights went out. Sparkles cascaded from the ceiling, and just about every man in the Moulin Rouge raised his head.

"It's her." Toulouse said. "The Sparkling Diamond."

A swing descended ever so slowly from above the red curtains, with the most beautiful women I had ever laid eyes on perched in its seat. I gasped. She had her head facing down, her bright red lips opening to sing with one of the most enchanting voices I had ever heard.

"The French are glad to die for love." She raised her head as she sang, revealing sparkling blue eyes. "They delight in fighting duels."

Little did I know, but someone else was to meet Satine that night.

"But I prefer a man who lives."

Zidler's investor.

"And gives expensive jewels."

The Duke.

Suddenly everyone started cheering as Satine swung over their heads. The music began blaring again, and Satine carried on with her song.

Toulouse leaned in to me. "After her number, I've arranged a private meeting, just you and Mademoiselle Satine. Totally alone."

Totally alone?

I watched as she let the men throw her in the air. She even seemed to be enjoying it.

Toulouse pushed me onto my feet, reassuring me that things would be okay. Just then I looked up and Satine met my eyes, sending a cold rush through me. Everyone cheered as Satine and Zidler dropped down in a circle made of women's skirts. She emerged seconds later in a completely different costume, once again being tossed around by the screaming audience.

I realized in horror that she was being thrown in my direction. She finished her last note standing right in front of me. I gasped and looked up at her.

"I believe you were expecting me." She said in a smooth, low voice. I was entranced.

I could only manage a small yes.

She turned to her excited audience and announced that it was ladies choice. She then turned back to me and beckoned me to join her. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't join her, what would I do? But I was pushed forward anyway by Toulouse and his friends. I was paralyzed as I was dragged to the middle of the dance floor with none other than Satine herself. Eventually I had no choice but to dance, and soon Satine and I were having a conversation about the play. She seemed very interested. No sooner had we started talking then Satine was back up on her wing, finishing her rendition. Everyone was swaying beneath her, hanging on her every word.

As my Bohemian friends applauded me, I couldn't take my eyes off Satine. She had reached her second to last word when she started gasping violently for air. I tensed as I knew something was wrong. At that moment Satine fell from her swing, plummeting to the floor below. Luckily a fellow dancer caught her, and carried her off the dance floor. Zidler tried to cover up this blunder, and the rest of the crowd bought it, but I wasn't convinced. Something was the matter.

I waited in the Elephant Toulouse had sent me too. Satine was

supposed to meet me there.

I heard Satine's voice from behind me and turned to see her standing
there in. . .in well, as close to nothing as I'd ever seen a girl wear
before. I wondered at first if there had been a misunderstanding, but
she assured me she was her for the poetry. She seemed upset when I told
her I'd rather get it over and done with, but I was only speaking the

truth. God only knows what I would've said if we had waited any longer.

I tried to explain my modern poetry to her, and I thought she
understood, maybe she did, but the way she was reacting didn't make me
think she was expecting a poetry reading. Then I took a turn for the
worst. Nothing was coming to me. Usually I'm full of so many ideas I
can barely write them all down, but tonight was different.

Just when I thought I was on a breakthrough, Satine walked over to me and
pulled me onto the bed, insisting that we make love. I was very
confused. I tried to tell her that I came to read poetry, but she would
have none of it. There seemed to be a huge misunderstanding between us.
Then she demanded poetry, so I untangled myself and tripped off the bed,
scrambling to my feet a good five feet away from her, just to be safe.

I started to create a poem off the top of my mind. When I thought we
had finally reached an understanding once again, she began rolling around
on the floor, making it impossible to recite my next verse. I couldn't
help wondering for a fleeting moment if she was perhaps possessed.

"My gift is my song." I sang loudly. That definitely seemed to quiet
her a bit. "And this one's for you." I said, turning to face her. She
wasn't writhing on the floor anymore, but listening to me intently,
stopped in her tracks.

"And you can tell everybody, that this is your
song. It may be quite simple but, Now that it's done. I hope you don't
mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down in words how wonderful life
is, now you're in the world."

We were now standing opposite each other as I continued singing. I
took her hand in mind and twirled her around in a circle, smiling. When
the song was over, we stood transfixed, staring at each other.

"I can't believe it." She whispered. "I'm in love. I'm in love with a
young, handsome, talented Duke."

I beamed with pride, but I couldn't help questioning one thing. "Duke?"

"Not that the title's important of course." She said, giggling.

I corrected her. "I'm not a Duke."

Her face changed. "Not a Duke?"

I smiled, I thought she knew who I was. "I'm a writer." The romantic
moment had suddenly drew to a close.

"A writer!" I confirmed her shock. She didn't seem pleased, and became
even more outraged at the mention of Toulouse. It turns out, I was one
of Toulouse's Oh-so talented, charmingly Bohemian, tragically
impoverished protégés.

Satine squealed, muttered about murdering Toulouse. She ran to the door,
slamming it when she saw that the Duke was right out side. She yelled
for me to hide, but before I could move, Zidler came barging into the
room. Satine spread her transparent robe out so I could quickly drop to
my knees.

I hid behind the small bar table and listened to the conversation
taking place. I tried to raise my head and look, but Satine whipped her
head around and I had to hide immediately. That was when I first heard
the insufferable droning that was the Duke's voice. He quoted Satine's
show lines, which seemed to make her very happy. I couldn't help
wondering why I hadn't thought of that myself.

The Duke made his way over to my hiding spot but Satine created a
distraction so he wouldn't discover me. She made several other poor
excuses before quoting the lines I had spoken to her earlier.
Unfortunately she didn't really know them, so I ended up having to mouth
them to her the whole time. The she began singing, and I felt that
unfamiliar cold run through me again.

As she stood on one side of the Duke, I stood on the other, listening
to her voice.

". . .how wonderful life is, now you're in the world." She finished,
looking at me over the Duke's shoulder. He was obviously in love, as
many men had been before him, with the beautiful and seductive Satine.
As she began talking to him again, she beckoned with her hand for me to
exit. I crept slowly back, opening to the door to see the Duke's
manservant standing right outside.

Without thinking, I slammed the door, forcing Satine to yell and make
up another story to distract the Duke. I was soon watching as Satine
began to seduce the Duke the same way she had gotten me. I was creeping
to the back of the room when Satine urgently ushered the Duke away,
mentioning something about opening night. When the Duke had finally been
pushed outside, Satine turned to me and started scolding me for all the
trouble I could have caused.

Suddenly her face paled and she took in large gasps of air, fainting into
my arms. I managed to drag her to her bed, falling on top of her in the
process. The Duke had re-entered just then, at exactly he wrong moment.
Then on top of everything, Satine had woken up, but she weaved together a
perfect excuse for this awkward situation.

We had been rehearsing.

The Duke didn't seem to be fooled so easily, but Toulouse barged in from
the back shouting, asking us how the rehearsal was going. To add on to
everything, Harold Zidler arrived, creating the full team we needed for a
real emergency rehearsal.

The Duke seemed to enjoy the story line we had laid out for him, much
of which we changed along the way. When we were finished telling him
about Spectacular Spectacular, he seemed to like the general idea.

Zidler had an investor. And the Bohemians had a show.

While the celebration party raged upstairs, I tried to write. But all I
could think about was her. Was she thinking about me?

a/n: The spacing of paragraphs got screwed up on its transfer to fanfiction, sorry.