And here it is, Chapter Three. Thank you Alexis for editing for me! I love you forever! (( in a platonic way)). Thank you for your reviews and I hope more come soon. I forgot to post this in the beginnging sooo...

DISCLAIMER:

I do not own any part of the story accept for the words and ideas, and three or four characters of my own thought. All the rest are owned by the wonderful movie companies and writers of the Moulin Rouge.


I didn't want to do this, but Toulouse said that it would be okay.

God how I had missed my brother!

He said that I must go along with the story if I wanted to stay of the streets. My big brother was too poor to keep me in his care. This new plan allowed us to have a place to stay and make some money.

It seemed all right to me.

I missed my home in Italy. The food, the smell, and the people were all memories that made my heart ache. I was going to learn to deal with it. I was going to put a smile on my face and openness in my heart, for him. We stopped skipping when we were out of Ziddler's sight.

Toulouse turned to me.

"You are the gweatest actow on the planet my dawling!"

Toulouse cried. I smiled, sharing my joy. He hugged my waist and I patted his head softly.

"Lets go get some cwothes shawl wee?" He asked playfully as he dragged me into a taxi.

He spoke of some French street to the driver and the horses started trotting along at a slow snail. I stared out of the window, and watched as the creatures of the underworld snaked over each other's bodies like the whores they slept with each night.

Air escaped my lungs with a rush of warmth as Toulouse started humming under his breath. The carriage came to a quick halt and we fell into the ocean of muddy water.


Stranger A, a rather tall figure, watched two people from the shadows. He smirked when a stunning attractive woman started cursing at her taxi driver in rapid Italian.

A monster of brown untamable curls fell in front of her face when she shrieked, her small figure shaking with anger.

He laughed, lighting up the small corner of darkness around him with his smile. The goddess turned her head and caught his eye for a moment. A sweet shiver went down his spine as he watched a smile appear on her face.

He nodded at her, and she nodded back, only to turn and yell more Italian at the horrified carriage driver.


Oh no you don't, Toulouse thought to himself when he saw his sister and a handsome stranger connect.

He immediately put himself between Marie and the man when he saw him walking over with a smug look on his face. He had shaggy black hair that, when shunned, fell in front of his emerald eyes. His skin was tan by the cold sun and callused. He was built nicely and wore a shabby traveler's cloak that covered a black sleeve-less shirt and black pants. He had a tattoo of a dragon twirling up is right arm.

"We need to go" Toulouse muttered and pulled his Italian sister away from the scared human.

She frowned at him, handed the driver a coin, and followed her brother.


Feeling a soft tap upon her shoulder, she spun around instantaneously.

"Diablo!" Ziddler cried as he sprung from his chair.

He looked up at the new hole in her ceiling and sighed. He then looked down at the handsome man and sighed.

"James? Can you help me move him?"

James nodded and got up. Together, James moved Diablo with help from Harold.

"Why is he unconscious?" Mr. Amonna asked, running a hand through his white hair.

"He has a sickness called narcolepsy, were he falls asleep randomly" the owner explained, wiping his brow with an already dripping scrap of fabric.

Amonna laughed softly to himself but waved his hand and muttered nothing when Harold looked at him with fake concern.

"We were talking about the new writer?" James questioned, changing the dull subject.

"Oh yes," Harold gulped nervously, "She is the new writer"

"Who?"

"Marie, the new Sparkling Diamond"

"What?"

"Marie is the new writer?"

"Where?"

"…at the Moulin Rouge"

"When?"

"When we get the Moulin Rouge up and running. Talking about that…"

"Why?" Amonna interrupted, completely appalled. "A female can't write! It's a man's job! She will have too much stuff going on, sleeping with all the men and making us money, that she won't be able to write! I refuse to let her write for my company!"

James slammed his fist down on the table, anger in his eyes.