Christian stared into the full-length mirror in front of him and carefully attached his cufflinks to his jacket. He hadn't worn a suit since he lived in Montmartre, and he felt suffocated in the crisp white shirt and black-as-death jacket.
"You can go through with this, Christian." He told himself, straightening his posture and looking squarely at his reflection.
At that moment, Catharine stormed into Christian's dressing room. What parts of her body that weren't draped in the latest style were dripping with jewels or covered in makeup. The overpowering perfume haze around her reached Christian's nostrils before Catharine was even close to him.
"We're going to be late! Why isn't your bow tie on yet?" She screamed, reaching for the black fabric lying on the chair near Christian.
She worked on the bow tie while clicking her tongue and sighing, "Please don't make a fool of me tonight. It's been a long time since I've been able to show my face in polite society."
When the tie had been fastened, Christian spun around and looked Catharine in her cold, unfeeling eyes and said clearly, "I am only going because of you. It is the last place that I want to go. But if going to a grand ball dressed like this is going to make you happy, then so be it."
Enraged, Catharine waved Christian off and sped out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Christian sighed and looked in the mirror one last time before following Catharine out of the house.
When Christian and Catharine entered the ballroom, the crowd's loud murmuring halted abruptly. All eyes were on them, judging every step and every breath. Catharine's poised appearance and heavily garnished figure blended in perfectly, but Christian's slightly disheveled look stood out. Christian's eyes darted around the room, looking for the nearest exit or at least a bar. Finding neither, he looked at the elegant creature attached to his arm and smiled uneasily.
To his rescue, the host and hostess approached them and welcomed them to the celebration. After the introductions, the room was a bustle again, and Christian was able to leave Catharine at the table while he quickly downed a glass of scotch.
The night progressed slowly, and Christian felt more and more strangled in his suit and tie. Catharine had threatened him the night before that he was to be the picture of perfection and that he was not allowed to discuss his "business affairs" in Paris. He was slumped in his chair next to Catharine, who was gossiping with her friends. The party was winding down, and Christian politely suggested that they go home.
"Dearest, I think it's best that we call it a night." He whispered in her ear, rising from the table.
Catharine looked at him crossly and replied, "You want to leave already? What's wrong, is there no Absinthe to drink? No can-can dancers to fool around with?"
Noticeably hurt, Christian pulled Catharine from the table and apologized to the rest of the group, "Excuse us. It was a pleasure to see you all again, but we do have a baby to get home to."
The ride home was silent, but when the couple exited the vehicle, Catharine spun around and slapped Christian.
"How dare you insult me like that!" she screamed.
"What do you mean? You're the one who insulted me!" Christian yelled back, his face as red as Satine's boudoir in Montmartre.
Catharine hiccuped, the many glasses of champagne disagreeing with her, "I'm not going to argue with you. You've ruined everything!"
She ran inside and Christian walked slowly behind her. While she spent the rest of her evening performing her "beautifying" techniques, he locked the door to his study and poured over the pictures of Satine.
A lone tear rolled down his cheek as his fingers brushed against a handful of pink feathers.
"I miss your love, I miss your touch. But I'm feeling you every day."
Rummaging through the box, he ran across a rough draft of "Spectacular, Spectacular!".
"And I can almost hear you say, 'You've come a long way baby.'"
Flipping through the pages, his eyes settled on the Hindu wedding scene.
"You taught me kings and queens while stroking my hair."
He put the items back in the box and turned off the light. Walking out of the room, he whispered, "In my darkest hour, I know you are there."
To be continued….
Song credits: "Nan's Song" by Robbie Williams