Droplets, like some kind of pearl ran down her face as he got his moneys worth. She only had one thing to tide her over, the thought that she would indeed someday 'fly away'. When he was satisfied It seemed to have taken for ever he had only one thing to say to her "Give my regards to Harold, he runs a tight shift" He said while getting dressed, cackling almost. When he finally left Satine sat up with the covers up around her chest. She began crying again. This was no life, Lying, in what ever context was lying, And it was no way to make a living. "Satine? Satine! Snap out of it! get on the trapeze now!" Shouted Harold, It was the big night, the night Harold would be rewarded spectacularly, with his new golden paycheck, and Satine would get what was left. Tonight some Duke would be attending the Moulin Rouge. "The French are glad to die for love..." Satine went about doing her routine, wityh which she would hook this mysterious Duke. But when she looked his way, instead of seeing some dirty old man, she saw what she almost mistook for an angel, With beautiful Black hair, doleful grey blue eyes and a sweet niave' grin on his face. She had of course spotted the young penniless writer, he instantly hooked her somehow, she wanted to know more about him. "Is that him Harold?"Satine asked almost forgetting to hide her hope that it was. "Let me see, Yes Poppet that's him alright. Try telling him he's a looker" Said Harold, this Surprised Satine, though she didn't show it, and just shook it off as a joke. "Well that won't be hard." She said staring at the Poet with a new found lust. "That's my girl, always up for the challenge! Now off you go!" Said Harold walking off to the bandstand. "I believe you are expecting me" Said Satine seductively. "Yes, yes" Said the poet breathlessly. He has the voice of a angel, she thought. He looked at her half wondering, half longing. "So what should i call you?" Asked Satine "Ah, um, Christian?" Said the poet almost forgetting his own name just at the sight of her. "It's lovely to make your aquaintance Christian, i'm Satine. Shall we dance?" Said Satine keeping her cool and hiding all her mixed feelings for Christian, she was so confused, but not one part of her showed it. When they had finished they're little conversation on the dance floor Satine took him to her elephant room, Prepared for what was needed, in her corset and ever so light nightgown. But when she set to work, she got a major shock, poetry meant poerty...