Chapter 4
The hall seemed dark as I slowly walked down it, trying to remain as quiet as possible. I wasn't going to bother her. I merely wanted to check to make sure she was all right. I knew love could be painful for I'd experienced the pain, the jealousy, the loss…
I opened the door at the middle of the hall and peeked in silently. Her room was painted in very pale colors, whites and light pinks. Her bed was against the right wall and had curtains around it. There were steps leading up to the bed. All of the light in the room was coming from the door in the middle of the back wall and the windows on each side. The door led out to a balcony with a black, barred fence.
He could see her standing out on the balcony, her back to me. I started to take a step inside, when I was stopped by a voice…
Selene:
Sweet dreams… of you…
Every night I go through…
Why can't I forget you?…
And start my life anew?
Instead of having sweet dreams about you…
My eyes widened, and my breath had caught in my throat. I felt like I had just swallowed my heart and it had gotten stuck in my esophagus.
Selene:
You don't love me… it's plain
I should know… I'll never wear your ring…
I should hate you… the whole night through…
Instead of having sweet dreams about you…
Sweet dreams… of you…
Things I know… can't come true…
Why can't I forget the past, start loving someone new
Instead of having sweet dreams…
About…
You…
Satine's cool, ringing voice… I felt my whole body had turned cold, then suddenly heated up intensely. I was sweating ice it seemed, but I couldn't really tell, for I was currently going numb from the toes up.
Selene glanced over her shoulder, then screamed. I was knocked back into reality so unexpectedly that my brow hit the wall, making me stumble back and bang the back of my head against the wall behind me.
"Oh, OH!" She cried, running out of the room and kneeling down as I slid down the wall and sat on the ground, holding my throbbing head. "I… I'm sorry… I didn't realize you were watching me, and it scared me!…" She sounded worried, but it seemed that she noticed this as well and quickly changed her tone. "HOW DARE YOU WATCH ME LIKE THAT! What are you doing! That's very rude and very perverted!"
"I-- I'm sorry! Sorry!" I cried, glancing up at her. "I… I was just coming to see if you were all right and---" I winced slightly as the pain slowly started to numb.
"I'm fine! What makes you think that I'm not!" She retorted.
"Well… I mean… that is uh--- The song… That one you were singing…"
"That's… just a stupid song…" She said, sounding rather upset as she stood and wandered back into her room. "Leave me alone." She was just about to slam the door, but I put my foot in the way.
"Please… Please just listen to me for a moment," I said.
"No," She said, kicking at my foot to get it to move. "Get out! Stop it now!" She then managed to magically push me to the ground and slam the door.
I sat on the floor, looking thoroughly, utterly, undeniably taken aback by her. She was calling me rude? I continued sitting there, trying to think of what to do, when the door opened again.
"I… I'm sorry…" She said, standing over me. "I never meant… I mean… that is…"
"I understand…" I said, raising to my feet and dusting imaginary specks off my pants.
"So, what do you really want?" She asked, still looking a bit impatient and frazzled.
"I just… wanted to compliment you… You're… -You're very beautiful…" I stammered, heat creeping into my cheeks. "You have a lovely singing voice… You remind me of someone. In fact, you're so much like her that I thought-"
"I know what you're going to say," She said, and an edginess was slinking into her voice once more. "-and I'd prefer if you wouldn't compare me to that."
"Th-that?" I questioned, looking down, then up at her again.
"That Moulin Rouge can-can dancer! The 'Sparkling Diamond' and what-not! It's funny how people think that comparing my looks to that of a prostitute is a compliment!" She yelled, stamping her foot for effect. "Satine! Humph!"
I felt my heart shattering. Her name… She said her name… She insulted her. Yes, she was a pro---prosti--- courtesan… Yes, she was a can-can dancer at the Moulin Rouge… but… She'd never known her. How dare she judge her like that! How dare she attack the dignity… of the woman… I loved…?
I lowered my head and chewed on my lower lip uneasily. My eyes were burning with tears that were threatening to fall as her memories played over and over in my head. "You… You're wrong…" I muttered.
"What?" She asked. "Wrong about what?"
I glanced up at her again, and a look came across her face that I could not read. "It's nothing… sorry… I think I'll go see what Scott is doing…" I turned and headed down the hallway at a quick pace, listening to my breathing as it began to stagger. I heard her bedroom door close as I arrived at the steps.
I did not go down them. I sat on the top stair and folded my hands in my lap, trying to get the sick feeling in my stomach to pass. I closed my eyes tightly, seeing her face so clear in my mind, then softly began to sing to myself. "One day… I'll fly… away…Leave all this… to yesterday… What more could your love do… for me… When will love be… through with me?… Why live life… from dream to dream?…and dread the day… when dreaming… ends…How wonderful… life is…when you're in… love…"
How could I have known… that right at that moment she was leaning against her door, listening to me, watching me with empty eyes. She hadn't said a word as I got up and headed down to the first floor of the house, still feeling rather down. I didn't even know she was there… but the words had done their damage, and they had effected her thoughts -well, about me at least.
-
"Margaret, go play in the parlor! Joseph, stop trying to help me!" Scott's voice was squeaking from the kitchen. I glanced in silently, staring in awe at the sight before me.
Scott was standing at the stove, stirring a concoction with a wooden spoon. Margaret had a hold of his pants-leg, reciting 'pway, pway' over and over. Joseph was standing next to him saying, "Let me do it! You're no good! Let me try!"
I smiled and snickered slightly at the sight. Scott looked so drained from the entire scenario. It was quite funny.
"Chop potatoes then, Joseph, but first take your sister into the parlor!" Scott cried.
"Pway," Margaret said, tugging on his pants-leg.
"Fine, fine," Joseph said, grabbing Margaret by the under-arms and carrying her out of the room. He looked at me as he passed and smiled slightly. "I honestly don't know how you stuck around this long. If I was old enough to be on my own, I would've already been out the door."
I walked into the kitchen and leaned over next to Scott. "What are you cooking?"
"Stew… It's the only thing I know how to make," He said. "How's Selene?"
"Probably more infuriated at me than she was before," I said. "Hey, out of curiosity, do you have anything to drink?"
"Like what?" He asked as the tea kettle started whistling. He grabbed it and set it aside from the stove. "We have tea, quite obviously."
"It's all right," I said. I would have much preferred a glass of Absinthe, but he would probably question me about that… Then again, he would probably want some too since that's what my bohemian friends drank when I was with them. Either way, it was a really good reason not to say anything. "So… err…" I said. I needed some conversation.
"Christian?…" Scott asked, glancing casually towards me, though he seemed a bit uncomfortable.
"Y-yes?" I asked.
He smiled as if it couldn't be helped, and a pink flush lit his cheeks. "There's… I mean… Love, love, umm…"
I raised my eyebrow, staring in confusion as he went on like a blubbering idiot.
"That is… err…" The heat in his face was becoming more obvious as he stirred a bit faster. "Well, I don't really have a father to discuss this with, um---"
"Spit it out!" I cried, becoming impatient.
"A GIRL!" He yelped, his voice even squeakier than usual.
"A girl?" I repeated.
"M… my friend… I have a group of friends… and she's the only girl…" He said, looking at me.
"-and you're… in love?" I asked.
His blush reddened.
"I just don't know what to say… I mean, my tongue gets all tied up, and everything I've rehearsed disappears from my mind, and all I can say is hello…"
I stood there for a moment, trying to think up what to say. "You said that you wanted to be a writer, didn't you?"
"Yeah… but all my work is horrible. I try so hard to make it like yours, and it turns into nothing…"
"Well, that's your problem," I said, leaning next to him. "A writer writes what he feels down on paper. If you can't express your emotions towards this woman you're in love with, then put it into words on paper."
He looked at me as if I was a genius.
"-but… but I don't know if I can write something that good! I err--- well," It seemed he wasn't looking at me, but looking behind me, but I figured I was imagining. "Can you show me an example… You know… a real, live example?" His blue eyes glittered.
I stepped back slightly, bowled over for a moment. Of course he would ask me something like that. I sighed in frustration and said, "Very well." I began off the top of my head the words that came. The lyrics hurt me as I sang them, but I couldn't have thought of anything happy or cheerful. It just wasn't my lifestyle anymore.
Christian:
I can think of younger days
When living for my life
Was everything a man could want to do…
I could never see tomorrow…
-but I was never told about the sorrow…
-and how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining…?
What makes the world go around?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser… ever win?
Please help me mend my broken heart…
And let me live again…
I can still feel the breeze…
That rustles through the trees
And miss the memories
Of days gone by…
We could never see tomorrow…
-and no one said a word about the sorrow…
And how can you mend a broken heart?
How can you stop the rain from falling down?
How can you stop the sun from shining?
What makes the world go around?
How can you mend this broken man?
How can a loser ever win!
Someone help me mend my broken heart…
And let me live again…
And let me live… again…
Scott was smiling brightly, his eyes shimmering with delight. "That was wonderful Monsieur Christian! Absolutely stupendous!" He suddenly surprised me by turning his head towards the doorway. "What did you think?"
I looked in the direction and felt my jaw drop slightly.
Selene was standing, staring at me.
"I-I--err--- um---" Now I was the blubbering idiot.
"Scott, I'll finish dinner. You and um--- Monsieur Christian go play with Joseph and Margaret, hm?" She said, passing in between the two of us. It seemed to me that she was avoiding my eyes.
"All right," He said, handing her the spoon. "Your stew is better than mine anyways." Then, grabbing hold of my wrist (once again…), he dragged me out of the kitchen before I could say anything. It seemed he was getting fairly good at dragging me like a dog on a leash.
-
We went into the parlor together, and he sat at the piano, dabbling in a few simple tunes. "My friend taught me a little bit, but he's a much better pianist than I'll ever be," Scott said. "Let me try and make something up now!"
Joseph was playing dolls with his sister, but the two were watching semi-interested.
He sat for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts. He stared at the ceiling, rocking his head side to side and chewing on his fingernail. "Uh…"
"Don't think. Just let your feelings express themselves in words," I said. He pulled his notebook out of his jacket (which must have been held right next to his book), and began to scribble something down in rather bad handwriting.
"I think I've got something…" He said. "I think…"
I sat back on the couch. "Show me."
Scott stood from the piano, cleared his throat, turned towards me, and slowly began to sing a fairly struggled tune off of the words on his paper.
Scott:
You give… your hand… to me…
And then you say hello…
And I can hardly speak
My heart is beating so
-and… anyone can tell
You think you know me well…
But you don't know me…
His singing seemed to get better as his confidence rose, and he began going on without the notebook, staring dreamily into space with a smile on his face.
Scott:
No, you don't know the one
Who dreams of you each night
And longs… to kiss your lips
And longs to hold you tight
To you I'm just a friend…
That's all I've ever been…
Because you don't know me…
For I never knew… the art of making love…
Though my heart aches with love… for you…
Afraid, and shy, I let my chance go by…
The chance that you might love me too…
You give your hand to me
And then you say goodbye
I watch you walk away!…
Beside the lucky guy…
Oh, will you ever know…
The one who loves you so…
No…
You don't… know me….
He took glanced up at me rather unsurely. "Pretty dumb, huh…" He said.
"No! No!" I cried, standing. "I thought it was fantastic! It's got very great potential!"
"It's the best thing I've heard you write anyways," Joseph said. "Though that's really not saying much."
Scott glared at him. "At least I'm not playing with dolls."
"Hey, it was a compliment," Joseph said.
"Co… compwiment," Margaret said and giggled adorably. I smiled at her. She was very cute.
"You really think it's good, Monsieur Christian? Really? THANK YOU SO MUCH!" He threw his arms around me.
"You're.. You're welcome…" I said, releasing his grip from my neck and setting him back on his feet. "So, why don't you tell me about this plan of yours--" Just as I was finishing my sentence, I could hear a spoon being banged against the bottom of a pot.
"DINNER!" Selene's enchanting voice called.
"YAY!" Scott yelled, making a clear leap over Joseph and Margaret, rushing to get there first. "Last one there's a rotten egg!"
Joseph pulled Margaret onto his back. "THAT'S PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE!" He yelled as Margaret laughed.
I stood there for a moment before walking calmly towards the dining room on the other side of the stairs.
It was decorated much like the parlor with reds, gold, and pinks. The table was made of dark oak wood with matching chairs (one on each end, two on the sides), and a chandelier of candles hung above it. There was a window on the back of the wall with a daybed underneath it. I hadn't realized that the sun was already going down. Time sure flied when being dragged around by a teenager, meeting a woman that looked just like Satine, and performing random poetry while waiting for dinner after being yelled at and worshiped.
"Monsieur Christian, since you're our guest, you can sit next to me," Scott said, beaming at me. He took his seat at the right and pointed to the chair next to his.
Selene was sitting at the head of the table, and if I sat next to Scott… I'd be sitting next to her as well…
Joseph had helped his sister into a chair and climbed into his own on the other side of the table.
I had no real choice, for Scott would certainly be disappointed if I let him down. I sat down in the seat he had specified was just for me. Selene was still avoiding my eyes as Joseph said grace and then as we all began to consume our stew.
(A/N: I don't own the songs "Sweet Dreams" by Patsy Cline, "How Can You Mend a Broken Heart" by Al Green, or "You Don't Know Me" by Ray Charles.)