Chapter 6
As I spent the day with Scott and his strange, bohemian friends, another individual had arrived in Paris. This individual I happened to have known quite well not too long, but it wasn't a friendly relationship, assuredly. He was known by…
The Duke.
The Duke had come to visit an old friend of his to congratulate his engagement to a very ugly, but very rich woman from uptown. His friend, though not very rich himself, lived not far from Montmartre, but the two were not meeting there. They had set up an appointment at a brewery on a corner.
This brewery was a dark, dingy place where most low-class workers would come after work. It smelled of whiskey and smoke drifted through the air. It was dimly lit with a candle on each table.
The two men picked a place in the very back left corner as to not be bothered by the drunken fools that were singing and dancing to off-key pangs on an out of tune piano.
The Duke was dressed in his usual fancy suit, looking very out of place compared to the other workers, and his friend was dressed in a clean, red, button-down, black pants, and a black jacket. His friend was very handsome with slicked-back brown hair and eyes so dark they looked black. He was strong and had a well-built upper body that made him look young and intelligent.
"I'm glad you came to visit, dear Duke," The man said, sitting down. "I'm actually quite surprised."
"Yes, well…" The Duke said, sitting at his own chair and folding his hands neatly on the table in front of his hat. "I'm not only here for that…"
"You're in need of my services, are you then?" The other man asked, raising his eyebrows interestedly. "I thought you said you would never need my help as wealthy as you are."
"Well, I was wealthy until that blasted Moulin Rouge," The Duke responded rather fiercely.
"I'd realized it closed down," The man said. "So, what happened?"
"It was a damned writer. He stole that sparkling diamond and bewitched her with words… The show did not end my way, and she did not come to me, and so I left. It closed down for I didn't supply it with the money necessary to keep it alive, mainly because I'd spent it all on that wretched show!"
"I… I see…" The other man said. "I don't understand. This beautiful 'diamond' fell for a writer when she could have been with you? You would have had enough money if they kept performing shows, but they left… and she left with a writer!"
"According to my knowledge, since she's certainly not still at the Moulin Rouge," The Duke said. "I have to find some way to get my finances back to the way they were. I'm tired of playing on a façade. I want to be the real deal again, if you know what I mean."
"I see," The other man said. "Well, do you have any ideas?"
"No," He said impatiently. "That's why I came to you."
"Well, why don't you reopen that Moulin Rouge place?"
"Are you mad?"
"Now, now, I can supply the money necessary to help you if you can find the people for the job. All I will require… is a cut of the money you make in the process… Sound interesting?…"
The Duke seemed to seriously be considering it. "How much of the cut did you have in mind?"
"Only thirty percent, dear Duke. After all, if you reopen that place, the dough will be rolling in. Another Bohemian Revolution is beginning to stir, and you know how they love all of that 'be who you want to be, do what you want to do' unreality."
"I think you're on to something, Cardigan," The Duke said, a smirk playing on his thin lips. "-but the show will never gain the crowd it did without its "Sparkling Diamond"."
"Well, that's your job, dear Duke. You find the people to supply it, and I'll find the currency to open it." He held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"
The Duke stared at his hand for a moment, then shook it. "It'll be a pleasure doing business with you."
"You can come by my house later this evening to work out the details," Cardigan said, standing. "Now, let's get out of this hell hole."
-
"So," Smoke said, putting out his nub of a cigarette and drawing two more from his pocket. He placed one behind his ear and one in his mouth, then leaned over a candle to light it. "How are we going to get the money to open our nightclub?"
"We could ask for donations…" Black Cherry suggested from her spot on the floor as she sewed a row of frills around the edge of a skirt.
"That's a good idea," Scott said, smiling his best smile at her.
"I don't think it would be enough," Smoke said.
"We could sell some paintings," Ying and Yang said, looking over their shoulders as they finished placing the last details onto their day and night mural.
"It'll help, but I think we'd need a lot more to pay for the electric bill alone, not to mention the people we'll have to hire," Smoke said blowing what he had been nick-named for into the air.
"Well, we could bring back the bohemians, Zidler, and the dogs like I said to Monsieur Christian yesterday! They were bound to have made money off of Spectacular, Spectacular! so that should help-"
"If they help us," Black Cherry said.
"Of course they will!" Scott cried. "They're Monsieur Christian's friends!"
"Ah, so our very own penniless sitar player does fall into the mix," Black Cherry said, winking at me.
"By the way," Smoke said, tossing me a flask. "Hair of the dog that bit you."
I looked down at the floor in embarrassment, ran my hand through my hair, and took a long swig from it.
"Well, that still doesn't seem like enough," Black Cherry said. "I guess I could sell some clothes."
"Hell knows that you don't wear them," Smoke said. She glared at him, then smirked.
"I'll make sure to slip you into one of my dresses while you sleep. You try walking around in more than this while wearing these uncomfortable corsets."
"Sorry," Smoke said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "So, Penniless Poet, what're you going to do to contribute."
"I… I'm going to try to… sell a book…" He said slowly. Everyone looked at him.
I took another swig out of the flask. "What do you plan to write?"
"I… I'm not really sure yet, but err--- You told me that I should write what I feel, and I feel all kinds of emotions…" He glanced over at Black Cherry and blushed. "I think I can do it… I was really good with that song I wrote yesterday, right?"
"Yes," I agreed.
"Really now? Let me see it," Smoke said.
Scott reached into his coat and handed him his notebook. "Uh… here you go…" He blushed even more heavily.
Smoke opened the book and read a few pages. "This IS really good. Very moving…Is it written from personal experience?" He smiled knowingly.
Scott was silent, working at swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Ah," Smoke said. "I see."
"We'll begin painting anyways," Ying and Yang said, each grabbing an easel, sitting down Indian style, and beginning to paint.
"Well, we'll have enough to sell at least," Black Cherry said. "They're the fastest, most skillful painters in all of France."
"Your costumes should rake in loads of money, since they're so nice," Scott said.
"Thank you, Penniless Poet," She said, smiling. "At least SOMEONE appreciates me, eh, Smoke?"
"I appreciate you," Smoke said, dabbling in a few strange tunes and writing them down. "Just not as much as you want me to. You should marry Penniless Poet. He'll worship you."
"SMOKE!" Scott screamed, turning red.
Black Cherry burst out laughing. "Smoke's so good at making you uncomfortable!"
"So, Penniless Poet, how did you convince Monsieur Christian to come here? Did you kidnap him?" Smoke asked.
"Why does everyone think that!" Scott yelled. "Of course not. I'm setting him up on a date with my sister."
Smoke burst into a fit of coughs by sucking too much on his cigarette. Black Cherry laughed harder.
"-b-but," Smoke choked. "She's such a bitch since that neighbor of yours---"
"Why does the sitar player like her anyways!" Black Cherry giggled.
"She looks like Satine," I said quickly, without thinking.
"Yeah, she does, but looks aren't everything," Smoke said.
"You knew?" Scott asked, shocked.
"I know a lot of stuff before you do," Smoke replied simply.
Scott scrunched up his nose in disgust. "Oh."
"You know, Smokey, my boy, Selene really isn't all that mean. Heartbreak is something hard to recover from. Good luck, dearest sitar player. If anyone can cure her, you and your magic words can," Black Cherry said, standing and starting to sew some frills onto a sleeve.
I blushed. "Um---"
"Good luck," Ying and Yang chanted.
"Can I have my flask back please?" Smoke asked.
"Oh! Err---" I tossed it back to him.
"Well, first, how about you let me go over all the details that you'll need to know," Scott said, putting his hand against my back and leading me up the stairs.
"We'll get to work on a plan on how to get people's attention so that they'll donate money to us," Black Cherry said.
Scott nodded as he opened the door at the top of the stairs.
The room above the lower room was the same size as the room below, except there was a ladder leading up to a high platform where a bed was. In the middle of the room was an old, moldy-looking couch with a table in front of it that was scattered in even more miscellaneous pieces of music. Some beautiful paintings were placed in the corner near the window with pictures of what looked like goddesses. It seemed that Ying's and Yang's paintings reacted to light and looked even more stunning.
Finished costumes were hanging on a pole that had been placed across the back of the room. I had never seen such incredible and bohemian costumes.
"This is where Smoke lives and keeps our finished stuff… I don't have anything up here…" Scott said, somewhat sadly. "Well, anyways, sit down."
I sat down, and he sat next to me. "My sister… she'll pretend not to listen to you, but trust me, she's listening. If you say something you'll regret later, she'll make sure to have it registered in her mind to bring it up when you're winning an argument. She's very dedicated in helping Joseph, Margaret, and me, and she now believes that love is a pitiful thing that gets in the way. That's where YOU come in." He pointed at me.
"Me---?" I questioned nervously.
"Yes you. You have to teach her that love is like oxygen, love is a many splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love! --You know, like in the book."
"So even this is part of your plan. You're a crafty little boy… You're trying to use me to your advantage," I said. His smile faded, and he stared at me as if I was going to punch him. "I suppose I would do the same thing if I was in your shoes… I'll give it my best…" I stood abruptly and got in his face. "-but don't expect me to fall in love, understood?"
He was silent for a minute, and then a Cheshire-Cat grin spread across his face. "Understood."
"Good," I said.
"No one ever expects to fall in love…" He muttered.
"What?" I asked.
"I don't expect you to fall in love," He said.
"Right… now tell me more about her."
"My sister absolutely loves music. Mother and Father taught her all about it when she was young. She stands on her balcony and sings a lot. Don't talk about diamonds. That makes her mad. She thinks that money should be used for important things…" He whispered in my ear as if she was listening. "Though I bet she wouldn't turn down some if they were given out."
I smiled slightly at the childishness of him. "Anyways," He continued. "She's very insecure in the love department as you already know, so try to avoid the subject of lovers at first. Be very charming, it makes her blush and sputter. She can't insult you. That's a good thing."
"She sounds a bit… prissy in a way," I muttered. She didn't sound much like Satine at all.
"She is, but it's part of her veneer. She doesn't want to know that her neighbor effected her, or that we're barely scraping by. We only have the nice things we do because of what our parents left us when they died. She's very, very sensitive when it comes to making us look like we own money and keeping us looking nice. Before, she was really nice and used to sing to us whenever we went to bed or had a bad dream. She'd tell jokes and giggle cutely, but she rarely even smiles now… See… That's what I want you to do, if that's all… Make her smile again."
My eyes widened slightly. Scott was quite serious about her. I felt sorry for him. His sister wasn't the one he used to know after living out tragedy after tragedy. I, myself, knew just what tragedies could do to change a person, for I didn't feel like I was the same person I was a year ago.
"I see," I muttered. "I'll do what I can… I suppose…"
"Great! You shouldn't have a problem!" Scott said, pulling his (well mine if it was in technical matters) book out of his jacket. "By the way, will you take this home for me? I'm going to try to concentrate on my own skills tonight."
I took it somewhat hesitantly and slipped it under my arm. "I'm supposed to leave right now?"
"Yeah! The quicker the better! GO!" Scott giggled.
I headed towards the door.
"-but-"
I turned on my heel and looked at him. "What?"
"…never mind…" He suddenly became very interested in the dust on the floor. "See you later."
"Right…" I said, opening the door.
Little did I know what took place as we had our little conversation.
-
Francis Cardigan, the Duke's good friend had brought him to his home to go over the details of their own plan to reopen the Moulin Rouge. They had just enjoyed a dinner from Cardigan's extremely ugly fiancée, discussing it all throughout the meal, and the Duke was headed towards the bathroom to wash up, when he heard something from an open window. It was coming from the house next door's balcony…
He glanced out the window in interest, raising one of his eyebrows.
Then, there in his vision, was a woman standing on her balcony… a woman he believed he knew very well, in a blue, high-collared top with black buttons, black corset, and a long blue skirt. She had perfectly waving, sunset-colored hair, shimmering blue eyes that would leave you breathless…and she was singing.
Selene:
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… now you're… in… love…
"It's…her…" The Duke said.
"It's who?" Francis Cardigan asked.
The Duke didn't bother to answer, heading down the steps in a rush and out the front door towards her house.
He ran up to the door and banged on it with his fist. "I will have my Sparkling Diamond for my show…" He muttered.
Selene had apparently heard it, for after a few moments of silence, she opened the door and stared at the Duke.
"May I help you?" She questioned, Margaret peeking around from behind her.
"My dear, I couldn't help but hear your beautiful voice, and I had to come and apologize for all I've done." He figured taking the repentant roll would woo her, quite obviously. Had I been there, and had she been Satine, we never would have fallen for it.
"Y… Yes…?" She more asked than stated, perplexed on what he was talking about. She must have figured that she had merely forgotten over time. "Is that all… Monsieur?"
"No," He said, trying to smile innocently but not quite pulling it off. "I am curious as to if you would like to be the star of my show… After all, we both know you have the skill to be the star, and I would be delighted if-"
"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested," Selene said, about to close the door.
Margaret caught his eye as she stared fearfully up at him. An idea began to form in his mind.
"Is this… your sister?" He questioned.
"Yes…" She said.
"If you were the star of my show… you would have enough money to keep food on the table… to keep this little girl in good clothes… and send her to school…"
Selene's eyes widened. "-and all I have to do is sing in your show?" She asked breathlessly.
"Sing and dance, if you will," The Duke said. "I will make sure you have a fantastic sum of money with you work."
"Really?" She asked, a smile starting to spread across her face.
"-but of course," The Duke said, trying to sound noble. Oh, how he knew they were hiding their poor status… then again, he was putting on the same show at the moment…
"I… I'll do it!" She cried, her smile quite wide now. "I've never been offered so well! Where is it located?"
"Why… my dear…" He smiled. "At the Moulin Rouge… Adieu…" -and he headed back off down the walk.
Her smile faded, her shoulders slumping, and she paled. "Oh…" She moved her hands in the form of a cross over her chest and head, slamming the door and leaning against it. "What have I… How could…"
"Selene?" Joseph asked from the parlor.
She seemed to be trembling. "No… How could I have rushed into that!" She then screamed out, pulling at her hair slightly and rushing up the stairs. "I have to do something! I have to do something!" She cried. "I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!"
"What did he ask her to do?" Joseph asked Margaret, as if she would know. "Scott talks fondly about the Moulin Rouge… Hey, he didn't just try to pawn her off as a courtesan, did he!"
Margaret stared at him blankly, obviously having no idea what he was talking about.
"Hungwy," She said.
"AGH! Again? Sheesh," He picked her up and carried her off into the kitchen to find her something.
-
I arrived shortly afterward and knocked on the door. There was silence for a long period of time. I knocked again. "Um… Hello?" I called into the door.
"WHAT!" Selene swung the door open, looking frantic and angry. "You little rat, how dare---- Oh…. Monsieur Christian…?"
"Um… Hello…" I murmured, a bit stunned by her frightening performance.
"Scott isn't here," She said, about to close the door.
"No, wait! I know… I was just with him… and I err- I came to see you…"
She opened the door again and stared at me. I glanced around a bit nervously.
"Oh! Um… come in…" She said.
I entered.
"Why did you yell like that when you opened the door?" I asked as she began heading up the stairs.
"It was nothing," She said quickly.
I began following her. "You don't have to lie to me. I can see through that kind of thing, you know."
"It's not lying! It's keeping someone's nose out of another's business!" She snapped, heading towards her room door.
"Did someone make you angry?"
She opened the door to her room and walked in crossing her arms. "A man… OH! THAT MAN!" She screamed. "HE THINKS HE CAN JUST WALTZ UP TO MY DOOR, PLAY ON MY MONEY TROUBLE, OFFER ME A JOB ALL KINDLY AND THE LIKE, THEN WAIT UNTIL I AGREE TO TELL ME IT'S A SINGING AND DANCING JOB AT THAT BLASTED MOULIN ROUGE!"
"What!" I responded in surprise. The only ones I knew of who were even thinking of opening it were back with Scott, and there was no way any of them would have gotten here before I did.
"That little rat!" She screamed. "Who did he think I am! Coming up to my door and acting all noble in his little suit and that greasy blonde hair and that thin little mustache! Oh, I am so infuriated, I COULD--- Oooh… I could do so much…"
I felt my whole body freeze up. In my entire lifetime, I'd only seen one man that fit that description.
"The Duke!" I cried, unable to keep my realization inside.
"What?" She turned around and stared at me as if I was insane.
"It was the Duke…!" I explained. "He mistook you for somebody else! He thought you were Satine!"
She was silent for a moment, her jaw hanging open, a new fury burning in her eyes.
"Satine.. SA-TINE! OF COURSE!" She yelled, flailing her arms in the air. "EVERY TIME! HOW MANY TIMES AM I GOING TO BE COMPARED TO THAT CAN-CAN DANCING, LOVE SELLING, PROSTITUTE! WHY, OF ALL PEOPLE, THAT ONE! I DON'T WANT TO BE COMPARED TO A DIRTY STREET DOG LIKE THAT!"
My entire chest ached, and my mouth was dry from what she was saying. Can-can dancing… love selling… prostitute…dirty…street…dog… My eyes were starting to well up.
"WHY COULDN'T I BE COMPARED TO SOMEONE WHO WAS GOOD FOR SOCIETY! WHY AM I COMPARED TO A SKANK FROM THE MOULIN ROUGE! WHY-"
"STOP!" I screamed, tears slipping down my cheeks.
She looked in my direction and silenced immediately, amazed by my tears.
"You're… You're wrong!" I sniffled. "You're WRONG!"
"W-"
I didn't giver her time to speak. "You didn't even know her!" I bellowed. "How dare you judge her that way! She may have sold her love to men…but it wasn't because she enjoyed being a so-called 'skank'! She wanted to become an actress--- a real actress! -and it was the only way she could get there! She was a beautiful person on the inside and out, and she----" I choked. "--and….she…"
I threw Scott's book to the floor. "IT'S IN THE DAMNED BOOK!"
"I-"
"You think you're so miserable, just because that man next door didn't want you! I don't know why anyone would! You're opinion on people is terrible! You have some man push you off one time, and the world comes crashing down on you! Even though you know that you can have any man you want!"
She continued to stare at me unblinkingly.
"You don't understand what I've been through! You don't understand how putting Satine down like that…" I let out a whimper that was uncontrollable. "You.. YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE HER! I can't believe I ever even thought… that my dream had come true… but now I see…"
"See---?" She whispered fearfully.
"TODAY IS THE DAY WHEN DREAMING ENDS!" I bellowed and left the room, bolted down the stairs, and out the door.
"MONSIEUR CHRISTIAN!" She cried, but I wouldn't turn around… not anymore…
-
By the time I made it back to my garret, I was almost inconsolable. I leaned against my door, sniffing.
I then screamed out, and in a fit of grief, kicked all the empty bottles in the corner, stamping on them to make sure they broke. I slammed open my door again, and, wiping the tears from my eyes, went to the nearest Absinthe bar and bought five bottles without even realizing it.
By the time I returned home, I had already drank half of the first one, but oh no, I wasn't done. I had to destroy the thought. I had to forget… I had to go off into my own little pretend land where everything was all right.
I sat up against my bed and began drinking bottle after bottle straight, for I no longer had a glass available.
I could hear the Green Fairy's evil cackle echoing in my ears as I dwindled farther down the second bottle, her gruff voice whispering thoughts of suicide.
By the time I finished half of the third bottle, I couldn't lift it correctly to make it to my mouth anymore… and I was happy, for now I was forgetting. I laid down on the floor and began laughing gleefully as tears slipped down my face. Yes… I was free from Satine's voice in my head… but now… -now… I couldn't rid myself of the Green Fairy…
I watched the half-bottle of Absinthe pouring out in front of me and slipping into the cracks of the floor and sniffled. I wasn't sure if I was actually laughing, or if I was crying and it sounded like laughing, but whatever I was doing… it wasn't thinking of her… I truly began to wonder… if I could go on without her… and that was when I came to full realization…
Too much love… was killing me…
The Green Fairy spoke in an undertone that was scaring me witless. "Poor penniless sitar player… His sweet little courtesan is gone… and she's never… coming… BACK!"
"SATINE!" I screamed, and the world went black around me. "Sa… tine…"
Back at Scott's home… Selene had picked the book up off of the floor. She sat down on her bed, and began to read.
The Moulin Rouge… a nightclub… 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…The most beautiful… of all these… was the woman I loved… Satine…a courtesan…She sold her love to men…They called her "The Sparkling Diamond" and she was the star…of the Moulin Rouge…The woman I loved… is…
Dead.
(A/N: That was a rather interesting chapter, huh? The Duke returns! Poor Christian's so torn up… Oh, by the way, I've finished the cover to this story, and it's got the Duke, Zidler, the Bohos, Christian, Selene, and Scott and co. on it! W00t! Here's the link, but don't forget to remove the spaces! http / www . Deviantart . Com / deviation / 20877246 /