It was the night of our getaway that Satine discovered the Duke's plan.
That very same night, was the night that Satine was told that she was dying. And it was no trick. She thought herself a fool to believe. And as her condition steadily worsened, I can't say I didn't disagree with her, but there always was and always will be a part of me that wishes she was not a fool to believe, and that everything had worked out.
Of course, we had both been fools then, and I am still a fool now.
"Yes, it all ends today."
She was to send me away to save me. Hurt me to save me. She was a creature of the underworld, and they couldn't afford to love.
"Today's the day when dreaming ends."
Did anybody know what they were living for, the creatures of the underworld. Nobody really knew what went on behind the curtain every day, but it wasn't all fun and games. Every day was just another day to be living. It had no purpose. The stage held their final destiny.
But the show must go on.
I had been waiting for her, staring out the window anxiously, scanning the streets for her silhouette when she came running in the door. She looked distraught.
"What's wrong?" I asked. Her eyes were red and swollen.
"I'm staying with the Duke." She blurted. These words didn't quite register. Was this some kind of a joke? I didn't understand. "After I left you," She continued, "The Duke came to see me and he offered me everything. Everything I've ever dreamed of. He has one condition. I must never see you again"
I wondered if perhaps she had been driven mad, but she seemed to be in her right state of mind and very satisfied with what she was saying.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, walking over to her.
"You knew who I was." She said. And I had, but I loved who she was, and this wasn't her, I was sure of it. But something inside of me still ached as she spoke, breaking my heart with every word she said.
"What about last night, what we said?" I wondered. We were going to run away and live a life together away from everything, weren't we?
"I don't expect you to understand." She said, annoyed. She was right, I was completely lost. Why now, why had she picked this time to tell me this? "The difference between you and I is that you can leave any time you choose." I shook my head desperately, on the verge of tears. "But this is my home. The Moulin Rouge is my home."
"No." I told her, searching my mind for something to make her stay with me. But she only turned her back. "There must be something else," I pondered. "This can't be real." Could it?
"There's something the matter." I pressed. "Tell me what it is, tell me what's wrong!" I begged. She ran to the door but I was faster. I caught her in her tracks. "Tell me the truth!" I cried. "Tell me the truth!"
She coughed and gasped, struggling against my grip. Why was she doing this? What had I done?
"The truth?" She began. "The truth is, I am the Hindu Courtesan, and I choose the maharaja. That's how the story really ends"
I tried to speak, but nothing would come.
"Jealousy has driven him mad!"
Thunder crashed outside, displaying my mood with defiance. I was left standing there in the doorway, my head sinking to my chest, my eyes welling up and tears clouded my vision. My shoulders shook from the effort of crying.
I ran outside in the rain to the front entrance of the Moulin Rouge and screamed Satine's name into the sky. I thought perhaps she'd hear me and come back. I half hoped I might wake up from this nightmare and see Satine sleeping next to me. But it was real. The nightmare was real.
Just when I thought I could scream no longer two officers took hold of both my arms and dragged me away, one throwing such a hard punch at my face that I blacked out, my head sinking to the ground.
When I awoke I was bundled in a blanket and Toulouse was sitting beside me. I refused to do anything but sit and stare blankly out the window, watching the rain pelt against the glass.
"Things aren't always as they seem." Toulouse said, trying to cheer me up.
"Things are exactly the way they seem." I muttered.
"Christian," He started. "You may see me only as a drunken, vice-ridden gnome whose friends are just pimps and girls from the brothels, but I know about art and love if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being. She loves you. I know it. I know she loves you."
I tried to tell him to go away, but he didn't move. Finally I yelled at him and he exited the room, leaving me alone yet again.
I wanted to shut out what Toulouse had said, but he had filled me with doubt. And there was only one way to be sure. I had to know. I sold my beloved typewriter and so I returned to the Moulin Rouge one last time.