Chapter 16: Mr. Brightside

Erik waited, along with the performers of the Moulin Rouge for the return of their beloved Christine. He sat in a dark corner, a bottle of Abensthine half empty on the table in front of him. He wore nothing but trousers and shirt sleeves, not wanting to draw attention to himself as some rich bastard, he blended in very well, even with his gleaming white mask. Erik was once again drinking away the pain, the pain of Christine's absent passion. Something was not right.

"Damn." He muttered under his breath, taking in another shot of the stinging liquor. The pain was worth it however, when it was erased by the numbness that followed.

Toulouse sat across from him, also casually dressed in his white shirt and black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up and his glasses were slipping off his nose as he refused to meet Erik's eyes.

All of the dancers were not wearing much, or nothing at all really. They were all exposed and vulnerable, creating a sexual wave in the dance hall. Their corsets and garters went unnoticed as if it were the casual wear. But it was. So here they were, in a heated room, wearing nothing but the clothing of sensuality, waiting for the Sparkling Diamond to return from her mysterious disappearance. What was not brought to Erik's attention was that many knew where she was and why. Words spread like fire in a place like the Moulin Rouge.

Giselle came and sat between Erik and Toulouse, along with two other men. One Erik knew as Christian, and the other he was not familiar with, however Toulouse greeted him with warmth. Erik thought he looked Argentinean by the looks of his red vest and sun touched skin.

"My friend, it has been long since we last saw each other." The men shook hands and the Argentinean seated himself beside Toulouse, and Christian beside Erik.

Erik glowered at Christian, remembering when he had been jealous of him because of Christine. He nodded to each of the men and to Giselle, not offering his hand and preferring not to leave the comforts of the shadows.

"That's Erik, he helped write the show." Toulouse said without looking up.

That was when Erik knew that Toulouse was not saying something that needed to be said.

Christian looked around with sorrow in his eyes, as if reliving something horrible.

The Argentinean only drank, watching Giselle intently as she rubbed her leg up against his.

Christian broke the silence, making Erik's muscles tighten and temper rage with his words.

"I feel sorry for the man that falls in love with Christine. But I also feel sorry for Christine, as she cannot fall in love." He lowered his head. "It is all repeating itself, the curse of the Moulin Rouge."

"You? What do you know about love?" Erik spat at him, taking yet another shot of poison. "And what is repeating itself? Goddammit, tell me!" He threw the glass to the ground, his attempt at not drawing attention to himself shattered with the glass as all eyes turned to him with frightening calmness, as if knowing what would be the explanation.

Giselle stood sharply, knocking over her chair. "He probably knows alo' more tha' you!"

Erik stood also. "Really mademoiselle? Does he know what it's like to lose part of your soul to a stolen lover!" Erik roared frightening the young whore.

The Argentinean stood now, comforting his lover.

"I do know actually, I lost her first to a duke, then to death." Christians quiet voice echoed off the walls as no one dared to move or speak. "But never monsieur, had she been stolen. That must have heart wrenching. Satine always left on her own." Christian stared into a glass, watching the distorted reflection of the world in it.

Everything was silent. That was the first time since he had spoken her name since the first and last performance of "Spectacular, Spectacular".

"Never fall in love with a woman who sells her body, it always ends BAD!" All eyes went to the Argentinean now, as he made his way onto the floor. For all the eyes that followed, this was all too familiar. Erik watched with a menacing gaze, not enjoying the feeling that he didn't know what was happening. A spotlight focused on the Argentinean, and at the snap of his fingers, a piano played an intro. He motioned for Giselle to join him on the floor, and a spotlight focused on her as well.

Then the dance started. He ran his hands over her body in the beginning. The passion spread with madness as he held her wrist tightly with suspicion and jealousy.

Now they're going to bed,

And my stomach is sick,

And it's all in my head,

But she's touching his chest now,

He takes off her dress now,

Letting me go.

Cause I just can't look,

It's killing me,

I'm taking control…

Giselle was thrown from the Argentinean in a forceful movement. She twirled into another mans arms, giving her passion to him. Her hands ran down her body, over her breasts, waist and hips. Another man came to her and once again she gave herself to yet another.

Erik didn't want to watch, to believe that this was Christine. No. He watched in torture.

Jealousy,

Turns and take me to the scene,

Twirling through sick lullaby's,

Choking on your alibi,

Giselle and the Argentinean made their way off the floor on separate ends. Then the Moulin Rouge Came alive as thirty couples lined up on the floor. And then it happened, the music and movement came together perfectly as the men slid their hands over their partners thigh. Arms were supporting as the girls slid their legs back so their faces were at the level of the men's abdomen. They snapped back up, stomping their left foot doing so. Bodies were pushed up against each other and breathing was heavy for a moment. Only for a moment was everything forgotten and lips met. Then dance came again as the whores were lifted into the air, hands running over breasts and down over garters.

But it's just the price I pay,

Destiny is calling me,

Open up your eager eyes,

Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

The women were twirled away from the floor, leaving the men to the last part of the dance. Giselle and the Argentinean met half way in the middle of the floor. Erik sang softly, imagining the night under Apollo's lyre.

His eyes upon your face,

His hand upon your hand,

His lips caress your skin,

It's more than I can stand!

Christian stared at him bewildered, how did he know? With the curse came the songs. Erik stood and walked along the out side of the floor watching as Giselle was tossed from man to man, again and again until she fell to the ground, dead with the dance.

"Erik! She is with Raoul!" Toulouse screamed, bursting with worry. Everyone stared.

Erik flew to Toulouse, anger inside him mixed with a pain beyond any other.

"Where!" He asked grabbing Toulouse by the scruff of the neck.

"She went to save you Erik! She went so he wouldn't kill you! She gave herself up for you! She didn't want me to tell you, she needed to do it alone!" Toulouse spoke without thinking, letting everything explode. "The motel across the street, the one where I used to board with Christian."

"I will take you there." Christian stood, no matter how cruel Erik was, he loved Christine more than anything, and he had promised to protect this love. "Follow me, I know a way so they won't know we're coming. That way no one gets hurt."

This shocked Erik, Christian wanted to help him?

"Take me." He growled quietly under his breath.

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A/N: Whahahaha! A cliffie! Did you like the dance, I'll probably get flames for the song that I chose, oh well, I thought it went in nicely. Reviews are so totally welcome. So tell me what you think of the new title, I hope you like it! I'll be so happy if you tell me what you think. And thanks to anyone that added me, I will be on this weekend for sure. Um, nothing else to say but I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the dancing, tell me what you think! Well any way, ciao.