AN: Wasn't planning to post so soon, but I've decided to write a short chapter and then post a really long one later.
Chapter 9. Since U Been Gone
Once again the regular, mundane humdrum of life took over.
Becoming polished never was an easy task, and I was living proof. Spending countless hours having Cecille fix me up with curls and ornamental gowns deprived me not only of filling my thoughts with my mysterious writer and mourning over whatever it was I lost and let go, but also deprived me of the much needed time that I could use writing away the secrets and feelings of my heart that seemed to be suffocating me.
I tried to forget that I was on the brink of writing my own love story.
I tried to forget I had any other dreams outside of the Moulin Rouge.
I tried to forget that I no longer recognized myself.
I tried to forget that each day of getting prissier by Cecille brought me closer to the day Harod arranged me to meet my suitor.
I tried to forget that I had ever met a writer in a pub of Paris who had given me the inspiration that I was in dire need of obtaining.
"Think of me.
Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye.
Imagine me once in awhile
Please promise me you'll try
When you find
That once again you long
To take your heart back and be free
If you ever find a moment
Spare a thought for me." (1)
I sang with a sigh, looking out the window of my room at the workers of the Moulin Rouge rehearsing for the production to come. Hours of being presented before numerous people of high status Harod and Cecille tried to associate me with had left me sore from standing up so agile and straight and smiling constantly.
What kept me going? Empty promises of tomorrow? Thoughts that someday I, too, might have a story to share like that of the Moulin Rouge love story Cecille continued telling me each day we met?
On the stage, Cecille sang her heart out, trying to pretend she were singing to an enthusiastic audience that came to see her perform rather than invest in whatever it is she could possibly do, whether it be sacrilege or dishonorable.
In her, although she was not much older than myself, I found a strong, independent woman that I wished I could someday become. For her it was not about throwing her life away for a chance to have some fellow take her under his wing. She knew what she wanted with life. She wanted love. And she would be damned before she allowed anything else ruin that for her.
"Here's the thing
We started out friends
It was cool, it was all pretend
Yeah, yeah, since you been gone
You dedicated, you took the time
Wasn't long, till I called you mine
Yeah, yeah, since you been gone
And all you'd ever hear me say
Is how I'd picture me with you
That's all you'd ever hear me say
But since you been gone
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so moving on, yeah yeah
Thanks to you
Now I get, what I want
Since you been gone" (2)
Just like Cecille to sing a song like that. When she was not jawing away about the Moulin Rouge or that love story I loved, she was telling me about a young Duke by the name of EdmundAmbler.
Young Edmund, who was more focused on having a crisp suit and his hair in place than he was about Cecille. The Edmund who could go on for hours about how fortunate the weather was currently. The Edmund who could talk anyone to sleep.
"How can I put it, you put me on
I even fell for that stupid love song
Yeah, yeah, since you been gone
How come I'd never hear you say
I just wanna be with you
Guess you never felt that way
But since you been gone
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so moving on, yeah yeah
Thanks to you
Now I get, what I want
Since you been gone
You had your chance, you blew it
Out of sight, out of mind
Shut your mouth, I just can't take it
Again and again, and again and again
Since you been gone, (since you been gone)
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so moving on, yeah yeah
Thanks to you
Now I get, I get what I want
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so moving on, yeah yeah
Thanks to you
You should know that I get
I get what I want
Since you been gone
Since you been gone
Since you been gone"
Tomorrow began the day that Harod's planned suitor was to arrive.
Tomorrow I would be nineteen.
Tomorrow I would become acquainted with the man who my mother had wanted me to marry.
The man who would give me a love story worth writing.
A love story to compete with that of the Moulin Rouge.
It would be my story… perhaps a tale of jealousy… madness… deceit…
But… mostly… it would be a story of love.
1. The Phantom of the Opera "Think of Me"
2. Kelly Clarkson "Since u been gone"
