Chapter 2

The two of us walked down the street, Scott in the front, and me in the back. I hung my head slightly, sighing.

(This is how all music scenes will be, FYI.)

Christian:

Yesterday my life was in ruin

Now today I know what I'm doing

Got the feeling I should be doing all right…

Scott smiled at the people on the street, reached into his coat, and pulled out a dirty pile of parchment with typing all over it.

Scott:

Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?

It took me months to write, will you take a look?

Based on a novel by a man named Christian

And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer,

Paperback writer!

Christian:

She had a dream,

And boy it was a good one

So she chased after her dream

With much desire…

But when she got to close

To her expectations,

The dream burned up,

Like paper in fire…

Scott turned and walked backwards, beaming at me. "What's the matter, Monsieur Christian?" He asked. "It's a beautiful day out! The birds are singing---" He ran over to me and after running around me, put his arm around my waist (after all he wasn't tall enough to walk with his hand on my shoulder without looking strange). "-and you get a free meal!"

I stared at him for a moment as he continued grinning up at me.

Scott:

Better weather, pull yourself together

Don't be catching the blues

Better weather, pull yourself together

What have you got to lose?

Scott began rushing off, and I hurried after him.

Christian:

I'm only paying my dues…. !

Satine's voice:

Come what may….

I will love you… until my dying… day…

How would I know what was to happen to me? There was a lot ahead of me, and I wasn't even aware of just how much…

All that was on my mind at that moment was a warm, tasty meal and my curiosity about Scott L'opale's sanity.

-

His home was just like any other family's. It was tall with large windows and a door, tightly squeezed in along a line of other houses and had a black, barred fenced surrounding its small yard.

"Come in, come in, Monsieur Christian!" Scott said as he opened the door and allowed me to walk in first.

The inside of the house was decorated in a warm pink, red, and gold style with dark oak floors. There was a piano near the window, and a fireplace on the left wall that was decked out in curtains and held a mirror above it. There was a lot of cushy furniture that matched the room, and there was a vase with a flower in it on the table in the left corner. I didn't particularly like it, for it reminded me quite a bit of the Moulin Rouge and the elephant.

"I never really like our house until I read your book," Scott said admiringly, glancing over his shoulder. "Would you like to wash up?"

"S-sorry?" I questioned. I hadn't been paying attention.

"Would you like to wash up? You know, shave, clean yourself?" He asked innocently. "You don't want to come to dinner looking like you just got out of bed do you? Besides, in a little while, I want to take you out to show you something!"

"Well, I don't-" I began.

"Great! Let me show you to the bathroom!" He cried, pushing me up the stairs. "You can use my shaving kit! I've never used it before, but someday I will!"

I found bits of his information a tad pointless, but I supposed if I could clean up too along with a free meal, then listening to his piping voice would be bearable. It was also quite difficult letting an adolescent tell me what I could and could not do, but at least he was nice about it, and so, I decided to make myself presentable.

As the two of us reached the top of the stairs, he opened up a bedroom door that seemed to hold three people by the large double bed against the wall and the one single bed in the corner. I took a peek in and noticed a table right next to the door where a typewriter sat, and across from the single bed on the other side of the room was a doll house.

"Joseph! Margaret! Are you in here?" asked Scott, still smiling. It amazed me how long the boy could keep that grin on his face without his jaw hurting.

A small, blonde-headed boy came walking from the right side of the room. His hair looked as if it had been cut with a bowl, and he was dressed in a navy sailor suit with a white shirt underneath. He couldn't have been any older than seven, if that much at all. "Where have you been?" He asked rather sternly.

"I-"

"Our sister told you to stay here and watch us," He crossed his arms and glared at him. "You said you were going to wash up, but I went in there, and you weren't there, and you're still all dirty and… YOU BROUGHT A STRANGER INTO THE HOUSE!"

A tiny little girl with bright eyes of the same color as her brothers toddled out from the same area the little boy had come. She was dressed in a matching sailor dress with her bright red ringlets braided on each side of her face. She looked to be only about two.

I tried to give the children my best smile. "Scott invited me to dinner," I said, "I'm-"

"Joseph! This is the one who wrote The Moulin Rouge! This is Monsieur Christian!"

"Cwistian?" The little girl asked, blinking innocently up at me. The way she talked reminded me quite a lot of Toulouse, and for some reason that brought a smile to my face.

"A-HA! So you did leave the house!" Joseph cried, pointing accusingly at Scott. "I'm telling our sister."

"No! NO!" He cried, dropping to his knees and placing his hands in prayer as he did when we had first met. "Please, I'll tell her myself, but this is my one and only dream to actually be able to talk to the author of the best book of the century!"

"Well, of course," Joseph said smartly. "The century just started."

"That may be true, but if you could read like I can read, you would know just how great it is!"

"I don't have to. You recite enough lines from it that even I have it memorized."

"Ah- that is not true!"

Joseph crossed his arms and smirked. "The Moulin Rouge… a night club, a dance hall and a bordello… ruled over by Harold Zidler…. a kingdom of nighttime pleasures… where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld… and the most beautiful of all these was the woman I love… Sa-"

"All right, that's enough!" I cried.

"How'd you know that?" Scott wailed, wide-eyed.

"You sometimes have the tendency to read out loud," Joseph said, turning around. "Come on, Margaret. We'll go play with your dolls." He took her hand and led her back into the room.

"Dows," She said, giggling.

Scott sighed and glanced up at me. "It's so embarrassing… My six-year-old brother can outwit me… Let me show you to the bathroom…"

-

Scott entered the bathroom, me behind him. There was a desk with a mirror, wash tub and vase right in front of us. On the left of that was a bath tub. "Let me get you a towel and my kit!" He said, smiling once again and digging in the closet across from the tub.

"My gift is my song…" He sang barely above a whisper as he gathered the suggested supplies. "-and this one's for you…and you can tell everybody… that this is your song…It may be quite simple but… now that it's done…"

When he wasn't singing so loud and trying so hard, he actually sounded quite good. In fact, for a moment, I lost myself in my own lyrics.

"I hope you don't mind… I hope you don't mind…That I put down in words…" I sang, completely oblivious to the fact of what I was doing.

Scott froze and glanced up at me. I was staring off into space as I finished it. "How wonderful life is… now you're in… the world…"

"Wow…" Scott said, snapping me back into reality. "You're better than I imagined you."

I couldn't say anything. Scott shoved the towel and kit into my hands. "Now I'll go find you a suit to wear! I'm sure you could fit in one of my dad's old outfits!"

And he was gone.

I turned on the bath and began to undress. This day was turning out to be better than a few… At least I didn't spend the entire day drinking like usual.

-

I was standing in my underwear, halfway done with shaving my beard, when Scott burst in uninvited.

"SCOTT!" I cried, backing up against the wash basin area with shaving cream on half of my face.

"What?" He asked innocently. "Here," He handed me a navy suit, very similar to the one I had worn a year ago. It looked much cleaner and much newer than the suit I had worn on the way. "I've got to go put Margaret down for a nap. See you in a few minutes."

He was gone again.

I turned and started to shave the rest of my beard off. I'd almost forgotten what I'd looked like without it, and not to gloat, but I looked so much more attractive without it (A/N: He does! ). I rubbed my chin to assure myself that I was finished after cleaning off the spare soap. Then, I proceeded into dressing into the suit he had left me.

Scott entered almost immediately after I had finished, beaming his usual smile. "There we go! I finally succeeded in putting her down! Thank God, my sister came home and helped me."

"Your sister?" I questioned as I ran my fingers through my hair to fix it up a bit.

"Yeah, she's out in the back now. Come on, I'll have you two meet! By the way, you look fantastic!"

He grabbed my wrist, and we were off again, down the stairs and out the back door.

"Let go of me!" I demanded, finally managing to wrench my wrist away from him.

"Honestly, Scott!" A woman's voice suddenly drew my mind away from my wrist. I… knew that voice… "I thought I told you to clean up all the toys out here."

"-but they're not my toys!" He whined.

The woman was dressed in a blue, velvet traveling outfit which included a long skirt, and a jacket with gold trim around the folds. She had on black, button-up boots under the skirt, and there was a hat pinned up on her head, also pinning her hair up.

"I know very well they're not your toys, but Margaret is too young to know any better about picking up her dolls," she said, hurrying past us as she entered the house.

"She's a bit… rushed… She can be a bit eh-eh, if you know what I mean…" He said, slashing his finger across his throat. "Come on."

-and I was dragged back into the house and into the parlor, right in front of the door where the familiar voice stood, fiddling with the pins in her hair.

"How was work?" Scott asked.

"Horrible as usual… Scott, you should get the job. I'm so much better at taking care of your brother and sister."

"Yeah, well, I already told you. I'm in the process of getting that done. When I'm finished, we'll have more money than we'll know what to do with."

"You haven't told me about this 'job' yet. It better not be shady business."

I could see her ruby lips out from under the shadow of her hat.

"Eh-he, it's not!" He said, blushing. "Oh! I need to introduce you to someone!"

"Who is it?" She asked, finally removing her hat.

I felt my breath catch in my throat.

Long, red ringlets tumbled down and landed around her shoulders, and her deep, saddphire eyes glanced up through thick, perfect eyelashes. Her thin, porcelain face was painted with blush and lipstick and dark eye-shadow.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and my breath had begun to speed up.

"Selene, this is the writer of the book! This is Monsieur Christian!" Scott cried.

She turned and looked into my eyes. "How do you do?" She said politely.

I fainted.

(A/N: FYI, I don't own the songs "Doing All Right" by Queen, "Paperback Writer" by The Beatles, "Paper in Fire" by John Mellancamp, or "Make It" by Aerosmith, though I did have to do a bit of editing to make it fit into the story, as I'm sure you've noticed. If anyone has a suggestion for a song they think would fit in here, I'm open for suggestions, but I can do fine on my own. If you would please, leave a review. I would be most grateful! BTW, in case anyone's confused, the only difference between Satine and Selene physically is that Selene's hair is much, much shorter. )