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Chapter 3: The Moulin Rouge

Christine opened a cupboard in her kitchen, only to find that it was empty. She sighed and closed it, turning to yet another empty cupboard. It had been a month since she had gotten the letter, and was gradually beginning to find how wrong she had been about finding a job. No one wanted to hire an ex-opera singer, let alone a woman. She thought back to her last interview at a hotel. Yes they had women, but they had turned her away. A knock at the door brought Christine back down to earth, hard since her thoughts had been wavering back to Erik.

"Who is it?" She asked, walking up to the door, ready to open it.

"Mademoiselle De Chagny? We represent the Bank of France and we'd like to talk to you about some serious matters."

Christine panicked, she had no idea that it would happen so fast, but she couldn't just turn them away. She sighed wishing Erik was there to give her support. "You idiot," She mentally reprimanded herself, "if Erik was here they wouldn't be." She sighed again and unlocked the door .

"Bonjour Monsieur." She curtsied out of politeness and led the three men into the parlour. "Tea?" All of the men shook their heads and motioned for her to sit down.

"Mademoiselle…" Christine looked up. "Christine." She said, not wanting to hear Raouls last name at the moment.

"Mademoiselle Christine," They obviously wanted to break it to her slowly, and Christine suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, "as you may have been informed, your husband, Raoul De Chagny has passed on serving his country. For reasons that are unknown to us, we understand that he has not left behind any money for you. Thus you have not been able to pay your bills which brings us to why we're here." They pulled out an eviction notice from a briefcase and handed it to Christine. "We'll need you to be off of the property by five o'clock this evening." A man with a moustache said, with a hint of pity in his voice.

Christine pretended to be shocked, although she wasn't. She had known it would happen sooner or later, she just wished it had been later.

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Christine had easily packed her things since she didn't have many that didn't' scream Raoul back at her. She unlocked a secret drawer on her jewellery box and opened it. This is where she kept the ring that Erik had given her, hidden away from Raouls jealous eyes. With the ring there was a dried rose, with a black ribbon tied around the stem.

Christine let memories flood back to her, causing to slightly wince. She put the rose safely into her bag, where she knew it wouldn't get crushed, and put the ring where it should have been for the past year, on her marriage finger. She admired it and realized how much more it meant than Raouls ring. So much more in fact, that she decided to keep it there.

Christine left the house with only half of an idea of where she was going , after all, she had never been to the Moulin Rouge.

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Christine arrived at the Moulin Rouge an hour later which was, to her luck, exactly six o'clock. There was a man standing at the gate to the Moulin Rouge, not looking very pleased to have to be standing in the rain. Christine approached him cautiously.

"Excuse me sir…." she started. The man sneered at her from under his hat.

"What do you want?" His gaze remaining the same, daring her to answer.

"I was told to come here at six o'clock, to see a friend." she stated trying not to be intimidated.

"Who?" His tone had softened just a bit.

"Giselle."

The man showed a flicker of a smile. "She was wondering when you'd come by." He said, stepping a side.

"Thank you Monsieur." Christine nodded her head to him, and stepped into the life of the crazy, nocturnal night club.

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Inside the Moulin Rouge, there were people every where. People on the dance floor, people on stage, people cleaning tables and people sitting at the tables. The people on the dance floor seemed to consist of women dressed in colourful costumes that barley covered their body. But there was a couple in the corner performing a very sensual dance. Christine's eyes were glued to the couple as she watched them move around the floor like a wild fire. Every time one touched the other, they savoured it for a moment then reacted with such a passion that Christine was amazed that it was just a dance. She looked closer at the couple, and realized that the woman was Giselle. Before she could say anything, Giselle spotted her, and instantly stopped dancing. Her partner, however, just took another girl in his arms. Giselle rushed over.

"'Ello Chris'ine, whas the matta, Love?" She took Christine's bag and watched as she sank down and sat on one of the steps that led to the dance floor.

"Oh Giselle, I couldn't find a job, and they took away my apartment, and there was no food, and…I'm in love with someone who I don't even know is still even alive!" Christine put her face in her hands and started sobbing uncontrollably.

Giselle rubbed her back, trying to calm her down. "Come now, we'll go see Harol', get you a contrac', and then you can res' fer tonigh', yeh don' have to sta't righ' away."

Christine nodded in response, and Giselle helped her stand.

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Harold Zidler was the man that owned the Moulin Rouge, and took kindly to knew comers. Which was good in Christine's case, since she was tired and hungry.

"So Christine, what would you like to do, dance or waitress?" He asked, pen poised over contract.

Christine didn't have to think about this one, she'd seen what the waitresses wear, and decided at least she'd had some training in dancing. "Dancing, since I've done dancing before."

Harold signed the contract, and handed it to Christine to sign. She hesitated with her last name, and put Daae. "Excellent, tomorrow you shall learn the dances, and then next week you can start performing. For the time being, if you'd like you can be a companiess, which is a person that sits with the customers and talks."

Christine nodded. "I can do that."

"Wonderful, now Giselle will show you to your room, which you two will share." And he returned to other matters upon his desk.