Chapter 7
The sun rose upon the city of Paris, and I still lay unconscious in my floor.
At the home of Selene and her family, Scott had arrived early that morning, greeted rather smugly by Joseph.
"Where have you been?" He asked.
"I fell asleep while I was working on a new play at the Rouge House," Scott said sleepily, yawning. "I've only had two hours of sleep, so please wait before you tell on me… okay?…"
"I'm not going to tell on you," Joseph said. "I don't really care what you do anymore…"
Scott pouted.
"Your friend Christian came by yesterday," Joseph said, walking up to the piano and sitting at the stool. "He and Selene went up to her room, and she hasn't been down since."
"Really?" Scott said, smirking. "I didn't think it would go so fast, but-"
"What are you talking about?" Joseph moaned. "You know, your friend left a few minutes after he got here."
"Huh?" Scott exclaimed, doing a double take. "-but-"
"They were both crying, and Margaret and I heard loud voices through the floor," Joseph began practicing his piano.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Scott cried in shock.
"-and since you weren't here, I had to cook breakfast for Margaret and myself, and she wouldn't eat it, and I burned myself---"
Scott wasn't listening. He bounded up the steps two at a time and to Selene's bedroom door.
"SELENE!" He screamed. "SELENE, WHAT DID YOU DO!"
There was no answer.
"SELENE! You can't ignore me like this! How could you hurt Monsieur Christian like that! O-or did he hurt you! What did he say, Selene! You have to tell me!"
From within the room, she turned another page in the book. Selene hadn't heard a word that Scott had said.
All night, the penniless sitar player had waited… and now, for the first time, he felt the cold stab of jealousy…
"Where were you last night?"
"I told you…I was sick…"
"You don't have to lie to me…"
"…we have to end it…Everyone knows… Harold knows… Pretty soon the Duke will find out too. On opening night, I have to sleep with the Duke… and the jealousy will drive you mad…"
Selene's eyes drifted slowly over the words, soaking everything in.
"Then, I'll write a song! A-and we'll put it in the show, and no matter how bad things get, or whatever happens, whenever you hear it or sing it or whistle it or hum it, then you'll know, it will mean that we love one another…"
"Things don't work that way, Christian… we have to end it…"
Selene's eyes widened as she read the next passage, and she felt her cheeks flush slightly. In her head, she could hear it almost as if he was standing right next to her, singing.
Christian:
Never knew… I could feel… like this…
Like I've never seen the sky… before…
Want to vanish… inside your kiss…
-
I felt cold…
I quite obviously hadn't passed out in my bed, and I couldn't remember just how much I had drank. All I knew was that it felt as if someone was standing inside of my head and jabbing daggers into my eyes and forehead over and over again.
I unwillingly opened my eyes to the much too bright room and rubbed uncomfortably. As I rose to my knees, my stomach lurched, and I lunged for the bucket against the wall.
I barely managed to get my face over it before I emptied the contents of my stomach into it.
My head began pounding even worse than it had before, and I moaned. When I tried to stand, my legs shook, so I instead crawled across the floor and back to my bed. Hair of the dog that bit me wasn't going to work this time, hence I decided to try to sleep it off.
Just as I collapsed onto my mattress, I heard a knocking on my door. "Go away…" I murmured weakly.
More knocking.
I put my pillow over my head and groaned. "GO AWAY…!"
"HELLO?" A voice called through the door. I recognized that voice… It was Scott's friend, Smoke.
I sighed, defeated, and got to my feet, trudging across the floor. My stomach was lurching, but I refused to make my head hurt even worse than it already did.
I opened the door a crack and peeked out. "What?" I more stated than questioned.
"Scott told me to bring this script he started by your house why he went to get some sleep," Smoke said, lowering his shades to reveal his chocolate-brown eyes as he held up a bunch of papers. "He wanted you to look over it and fix mistakes and stuff… but you really don't look up to it…"
"No, no," I lied sleepily. "I-I'm fine…"
"Bloodshot eyes," Smoke said smartly. "So, the Green Fairy came and smacked you around a little last night, did she?"
I glared at him and opened the door to let him in.
"Wow… Look at this mess…" He said, walking in and staring at all the broken glass, spilled Absinthe, unmade bed, paper balls, and bucket full of the contents that previously were in my stomach. "-and I thought I was a slob…"
I shut the door and turned around. "I'll clean it up later…"
He looked over his shoulder at me. "Not an alcoholic…"
I was taken aback slightly and sputtered wordlessly.
"I… I'm not!" I finally stammered.
Smoke gave me a 'yeah, sure' look and set the script on my desk. "Just give it a read when you get back up to speed. Oh… and I suggest you stop drinking that stuff… According to the broken bottles, you're a violent drunk."
"I was just angry," I murmured.
"If you were sober when you did this, then that's even worse," Smoke said.
"I wasn't!" I cried in defense.
"Alcoholic," He said.
He'd cornered me like a rat in a maze.
"Look, I'm really tired, so if you would, please get out," I sighed.
"Of course," Smoke said, heading towards the door. "Just think about what I said…" He was then suddenly up in my face. "Scott really looks up to you, and I don't want him going the wrong way. He's an innocent little boy, and I can't let him become one of those men on the streets."
"You act like I've got a real problem-"
"Maybe you should open up your eyes, penniless sitar player… Scott, just like my other friends, are the only family I have, and I don't want anything bad to happen to any of them," Smoke said, dropping his cigarette and stepping on it.
I didn't say anything.
He turned on his heel and left.
I stood there, speechless, staring at the door. Surely I wasn't being blind to myself. That was crazy talk, surely! After all, if I had a problem, I would notice it!
My eyes traveled around the room, noticing the disarray my garret was in… Maybe… I did have a problem… but I was just trying to forget…
My thoughts were interrupted when I emptied my stomach into the bucket once again. This was getting old… fast…
-
Back at Scott's home, he had just about given up on retrieving his sister, for not once did she answer his calls. He eventually walked into his, Joseph's, and Margaret's room and laid down for a long nap.
Selene, meanwhile, was still sitting on her bed… reading…
"You're dying, Satine…you're dying…"
"Another trick, Harold?"
"No, my love… The Doctor told us…"
"Marie?"
Marie stared at Satine, a broken-hearted look within her aged eyes.
"I'm dying…"
Satine:
I was a fool… to believe…
A fool… to… believe…
It all ends… today…
Yes, it all… ends… today…
"Send Christian away…Only you can save him."
"He'll fight for me."
"Yes, unless he believes you don't love him…"
"What?"
"You're a great actress, Satine…Make him believe you don't love him…"
"No…"
"Use your talent to save him. Hurt him… Hurt him to save him. There is no other way…The show must go on, Satine… We're creatures of the underworld… We can't afford to love…"
Satine:
Today's… the day…
(and Zidler) When dreaming…
Ends…
Selene blinked several times, trying to ignore the tears, and turned the page.
-
I laid in bed with my bucket on the floor next to me, eyes closed. I felt terrible… worse than ever before… I couldn't remember what made me drink all of that Absinthe, which I supposed was a good thing, since it would apparently make me drink. At least my headache was beginning to subside, and that would probably mean I was done vomiting as well.
Suddenly, it all began to come back to me. I was at Scott's house… Selene… The Duke… Satine was being insulted… I'd stormed out and in a fit of rage destroyed the empty bottles and chugged down a load of Absinthe…
…and I was miserable again…
I pulled my blanket up over my shoulder and began forcing myself not to think about it. I had to tough it out. I only wished that there was a woman's soft, loving arms to hold me and assure me that I was going to be all right… but my only companion was a throbbing head and my grief for love and lost… but I would not let the bottle of Absinthe down on the floor be my companion today. I was out to prove a point. I was NOT… I was not an alcoholic!
…Even if the bottle seemed to get more and more appealing the more I thought about what had happened… The buzz helped a lot in forgetting things…
I rolled over and looked away from the floor, shut my eyes once more, and started to force myself into sleep.
I needed to remember that thinking was bad for me…
-
Selene turned another page in the book.
"Satine?"
Satine began coughing heavily, then collapsed. I caught her and held her close to me. "Satine, what's the matter!" I exclaimed, horrified. "Tell me… Tell me what's the matter…" My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was having trouble breathing over the lump in my throat. I could feel a panic settling in my chest as I suddenly cried out. "Oh, God…SOMEBODY GET SOME HELP!"
"Fetch the doctor!"
"I… I'm sorry, Christian… I…I… I'm dying…I'm so sorry…" Satine whispered weakly.
"Shhh, you'll be all right… You'll be all right," I muttered, more trying to convince myself than anyone else in the room.
"Hold me…" She said softly, and I pulled her into an embrace, tears brimming and falling over my cheeks.
"I… I love you," I said, my voice cracking slightly.
"You've got to go on, Christian…"
"No…"
"Yes, promise me… promise me…"
Her breath was becoming shorter and shorter.
"No…" I whimpered.
"I'll always… be with you…"
With those final words, I felt her fall limp within my arms. I felt something in my chest explode, and I screamed and sobbed and held her to my chest, but the pain wouldn't go away… and everyone watched in silence… No one could say anything…
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months… Then, one not so special day, I went to my typewriter, sat down, and I wrote our story…A story about a time… A story about a place…A story about the people…but most of all…a story about…love… a love that will live…forever…The End.
Selene's eyes were red, and her makeup was running down her face as she shut the book and sat it down next to her, hugging her knees and whimpering softly to herself.
"Get up, Scott! I'm hungry!" Joseph's voice through the wall knocked her out of her daze.
"Go on! I don't cook any better than you!" Scott's sleepy voice moaned.
"Get up!" Joseph yelled.
"Geh up!" Margaret copied gleefully.
Selene stood and trudged to her mirror, wiping at her cheeks with her hand, then burst out of the room, slamming the door behind her and leaning against it.
Scott emerged from the room with a worried look on his face. "Selene!" He ran to her and took her waist (since he was short after all). "I've been so worried, are you all right?"
"I-I'm fine," She said, smiling. She turned then and headed towards the stairs.
"Were you ill? Bedridden? What did he say to you?"
The last question made her freeze.
"I'm sorry, who?" She asked rather meekly.
"Monsieur Christian…"
"Oh! Oh…" She chewed on her lip, watching Scott from the corner of her eye. "It's nothing… It's nothing… Don't worry about it…"
"-but-"
"What would you like for dinner, Joseph?" She asked.
"Anything," He said, practically drooling.
Scott watched her turn her back and leave, eyes wide.
Selene headed down the steps, turning at the bottom with her hand on the banister.
"What do I do…? What do I do?" She muttered, stopping and chewing on her thumbnail. "I feel so guilty… She really wasn't-"
"Selene!" Scott was heard as he jumped the last two steps.
"Scott!" She turned to him.
"Yes," He responded. "That's me."
"Uh-um… err…" Suddenly, her mouth was dry.
"Yes?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Where… is…" She stammered.
"What? Potatoes? Bread?"
"Ch… Christian!" She finally spit out.
He stared at her in surprise. "Why?"
"I… I need to… -to-err… speak with him… I… that is…" She sighed. "I need to apologize to him for something I said."
"He's probably at his house…" Scott said. "What did you-"
"You know, I think I'll go take a bath. How about you get some money and take your brother and sister out to dinner, hm?"
"-but-"
She rushed back up the steps before he could say anything.
"You heard the woman," Joseph said, carrying Margaret down the stairs on his back.
"Yeah… right…" Scott murmured, watching where she had gone. "…but doesn't she need to know where Monsieur Christian lives first?" He shrugged and left to get the money for dinner.
-
By the time I awoke, it was dark outside, and I was only stirring because of yet another knock on my door. My headache was gone, and my stomach was no longer queasy, so I wasn't as angry when I opened the door.
"Hi," Smoke said simply.
"Now what?" I asked.
"Well, I thought about it… and it seems you could use some cheering up. Let's go."
"Go? Go where?" I asked as he walked in and grabbed my coat.
"A party," He said. "A bohemian party is being held in one of the bars down the street. I don't know where Scott is, and Ying and Yang are already there selling paintings, so I came to get you instead."
"E-excuse me? What makes you think that I--- What about that girl, Black Cherry?"
"She's making costumes to sell at the party. She'll meet with us later. It's going to be a blast, I promise."
"-but I---" He threw my coat at me.
"You want to know the truth?"
"Yes," I responded.
"I'm playing tonight for money to open the Moulin Rouge, and since Scott has gone missing, I wanted you to sing my songs," He said.
"Well, I guess I---"
"Don't worry, I'll give you a fair cut of the pay."
"I suppose I could---"
"Great, let's go then!" He cried, running out the door. Thank goodness he didn't drag me like Scott did. I was beginning to feel like a dog on a leash with him around.
(A/N: --sighs dejectedly-- Is anyone even reading this?)