Moulin Peache

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A/N The Good stuff comes in the next Chapter after this one. Muhaha. Don't forget to review and tell me what you think!

Also, it varies slightly from the movie in the sense that it is written in Christian's (Double D's) P.O.V.

First person isn't usually my style, but why not give it a go. For those of you who have seen the movie, it's an entirely new experience from the same, familiar motion picture. Woot!

Disclaimer: Though I have taken several lines form the original motion picture, I have twisted the majority of them to fit the killer guys and girls of the cul-de-sac. I own NOTHING EE&E, or Moulin Rouge.

Double D's attention snapped up from his laptop, brought back to reality as a long-legged waitress stepped into his peripherals. She laughed.

"You look like you've just about seen a ghost, sir," She smiled. She was very attractive, her natural beauty was evident even under her stained collared shirt and tightly pulled back hair. Some loose strands hung around her face in a halo-like frizz. The deep auburn color of her hair looked all too familiar. He gulped, but smiled apologetically.

"Just startled, I suppose," he said softly. Her lips turned up warmly, causing dimples on either sides of her cheeks to form. Far too familiar.

"Can I get you anything?" She asked and reddened a little bit. Oh dear. It must have been the way he was staring at her, but little did she know he saw right through her, and had no interest for her whatsoever. He didn't mean to give her the wrong impression.

"Oh, yes…" he glanced at her engraved name tag "…Julia. Uhm, just a coffee, please."

She tilted her head slightly and shifted her body language to face him entirely.

"That all?"

He looked down, humbled by her subtle advances.

"Yes. Thank you."

He could feel her dissapointment as soon as she walked away, probably about to gush to her fellow co-workers about the mixed signals this scruffy looking gentleman in a black beanie was giving her. He didn't understand what about him was so appealing to females. He thought of himself as rather awkward, really. He thought of her attention to him to be flattering, but he wasn't interested. He wasn't interested in any of them. He gazed back down at the crystal screen, and felt his fingers twitching to continue typing. And he did just that.

"Jonny… Eddy will never agree!" Sarah insisted after a while of thinking on it. Jonny had seen right into Double D's raw talent, and kept pushing the idea of him onto Sarah, even as he noticed her wavering. "No offence, Double D. I don't doubt your under qualified and all…but have you ever written anything like this before?"

I shrugged.

"No," was all I could say. It was the truth…

"He has talent. Raw, untainted talent!" Jimmy piped up, playfully slapping my rear end, his hand lingering on the backside of my pants. "I like him!"

I gingerly peeled his hand off my trousers, smiling uncomfortably. Jimmy just shrugged.

"I just adore talent!"

"Yes, but, HOW will we convince Eddy? He can be such a prick…" Sarah interrupted, her lips pursing. Her eyes suddenly widened after a moment, looking in Jonny's general direction, but not seeming to look at him.

"Perhaps I missed something?" I said, confused.

"He's got a point, Jonny…" Sarah said, her eyes squinting, deep in thought.

"Pardon? Who has a point??" I was entirely confused. I looked around Jonny to see if there was someone standing that I had missed. But there was no one.

"Plank," Jonny said simply. It took me several moments to realize what he was talking about. He was referring to the chunk of wood with a face on it, the one he never seemed to put down. Not wanting to offend him, I nodded slightly.

"Say again, I believe I missed it?"

Jonny laughed, "He does mumble a lot. But he suggested…Edward"

"Edward?"

Jonny turned to Sarah and Plank, and whispered the plan. It was a short while later that I was dressed in Jimmy's best crisp suit, and they would pass me off as a famous writer from the West Coast. They assured me that once Edward, the star of nearly all of the shows at the Moulin Peache, heard my modernesque poetry, he would be astounded, and would insist to Eddy that I write "Awesome Awesomeness". The plan was incredibly clever. The only problem was, I kept hearing father's voice in my head; the last I had heard of him as I stepped out my front door with a duffel bag of my belongings.

A writer! A WRITER! How Romantic of you. Your mother and I put you through Space Camp, the Science Fairs, prestigious medical beneficiary workshops. I've written dozens of medical journals, and you, our only son, decides he is going to throw his future into oblivion and become a writer. Pathetic.

I shuddered, and shook my head vigorously.

"Absolutely not. I cannot write the show for 'Awesome Awesomeness' " I muttered, and began to climb down the hole in the floor where Jimmy had fallen into my room earlier. Never being graceful, my hands slipped off the edge, and I crumpled in a heap to the floor.

The others crowded around the hole

"Why not?!" The said in unison.

I gritted my teeth from the pulsing pain, and noticed a thin cut along my forearm. Lovely.

"I am under qualified. There is no way I could possibly do it," I said, trying to ignore the spreading pain.

"Do you believe in Beauty?" Jonny called down to me, and hopped down in a far swifter manner than my clumsy fall. He offered a hand.

"Yes," I replied, taking it and staggering to my feet.

"How about Freedom?"

"That…that too."

"Truth?"

"Of course"

"Love?"

My eyes lit up immediately. The soul and spirit of all writers, the core or passion…was love.

"Love? Love! Above all things I believe in love! Love is a many splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!" I said a little louder than I intended to.

Jonny smiled, and Sarah grinned and nodded from above. Jimmy glided down onto the floor next to me. What was it with these theatre people?

"See, there is no fooling us. You are the voice of the children of the revolution. Let's get crunk in honor of the world's most metaphorically intoxicating revolutionary show!"

I had never felt more out of place.

To them, however, it was an ideal plan. I was to audition for Edward, and dazzle him with my artistic words. And I was to taste my first glass of absinthe.

I wasn't sure what it was, as a drop of alcohal had never touched my lips. The events that followed, however, were even stranger than I could ever imagine.

From the label of the green absinthe bottle, the illustrated green fairy popped off and became real. Flying…all sorts of wizardry…

"Are…are w-we in Harry Potter? Is this suppppposed to happennn?" I stuttered, not taking my eyes off of the blonde little fairy. Sarah, Jonny, Jimmy and Plank turned to each other and burst into laughter.

"Hi, there!" The fairy spoke. It spoke to me.

"Erm…hello, uhh.."

"Nazz. I'm the green fairy. Cool, huh?"

I open and shut my eyes, and squinted at her tiny features as she danced on my arm. I giggled.

"Indeed!"

She scaled my shoulder, and tugged on my ruffled beanie.

"What secrets do you keep under here, dude?"

I shrugged her off and put my arms over my head defensively, toppling off the stool I was sitting on. Jonny, Sarah, and Jimmy laughed even harder.

"It's…very private!!" I swatted her away.

"Okay, look," she said, disconcerted, blowing little blonde strands out of her face. "I'm like, the hot fairy of everyone's fantasies. And stuff. And now this place actually gets cute one, and you totally blow me off! What gives dude?!" She flitted to my nose and raised an eyebrow. She was very lovely, no doubt. But…

As if struck by a bolt of enlightenment, her eyes widened.

"Ooooh, I get it. Darn. Every single time," she sighed. "I don't get it. But then again, I don't judge. I'm a mystical green fairy hallucination," she gasped and patted the front of her pants frantically. "Oh my God. Jeez. At least you didn't imagine me with a…okay, whatever. Good luck with all that dude!" she giggled, and popped into little lime green soap bubbles.

I was never drinking again. That was for sure.

The next evening, however, I was preparing to audition my poetry for Edward.

I took a seat in the velvet front row, trying my best to appear professional as more spectators filed in. The theatre was, modestly put, lavish and spectacular to the very last detail. This was obviously a place for the wealthy and powerful to watch their fantasies come alive before their eyes, and no doubt paid a wholly amount.

Before I knew it, the entire theatre was packed with important, expensive looking people, and a lull of conversation hung in the air.

Then the lights dimmed, and a man with a plush tophat poked out from the curtain. That must have been their ring leader, Eddy. The owner of the Moulin Peache. He looked about my age, and began dancing around along with the can-can dancers and clowns that fluttered on stage, singing along with them. I had to admit, he had quite a stage presence.

But I was anxious to see this Edward.

Jimmy, Jonny, Plank, and Sarah took seat next to me, explaining the themes and motifs of the show. I nodded politely, but scanned for the elusive, sparkling Diamond named Edward. As if sensing my rapidfire feelings, Jonny pointed to the ceiling.

Strangely, my entire body felt as if every nerve inside it became a live wire. Silver confetti glimmered as it fell from the air, celebrating the presence of the show's star as he descended from the ceiling on a silver trapeze, disguised as a swing.

It was as if the wind was blowing in my face from every direction, though the air in the room was very still. It paralleled the audience, who gaped up in awe at this celestial being that descended from the ceiling. However, to me it seemed the room was empty. It was just him and I.

My eyes could not take it, I had to avert them. It could have been the lighting, it could have been anything. But it felt more so that the idea of my eyes on him was offensive. I felt my soul glow from inside me, and began to climb from my fleshy body, it wanted to join him on the trapeze, despite my terrifying phobia of heights. I craved to run the pads of my fingers along his jaw line, to touch his mouth that, even though he was high up, I could tell was the color of the inside of rose petals. I had never felt such a need to touch another human being. It was like a composition, a symphony of feelings. If I did not touch him, I would surely die at any moment.

Suddenly, petrified he would disappear, I fixed my gaze to him, drinking in his lines, his lean, muscular body modestly hidden beneath black tights.

I had never felt like this before.

Little did I know, someone else had planned to meet Edward that night. If I had known then what I knew now, I would have climbed to the row behind me, and clawed his eyes out with my fingers before he could have a chance to look at Edward. I was strongly opposed to violence, I even resisted crushing bugs that wandered into my flat. But I had studied medical journals. I knew the blueprints where every major vein and artery lay. My hands would have been drenched in cold, malicious blood.

I would have.

To this day, I would.

He was the Duke. He had come from some very far away, mysterious land that no one had ever heard of. He was tall, very tall, and extremely lean with well slicked blue hair and a youthful face. His eyes, however, were aged by hardwork and all kinds of mysteries he had seen from his homeland.

Eddy disappeared from the stage a long time ago, but I did not notice. My eyes were focused solely only on Edward, gliding from one swinging trapeze to another, and singing in addition to his number. Every movement, he was poised and moved like liquid.

"After his number," Jonny whispered to me "I've arranged a private meeting. Just you and Edward. Totally alone."

I nodded, refusing to take my eyes off of Edward.

Meanwhile, Eddy had taken a seat next to the Duke, heaving and wiping the sweat off his brow with a silk cloth.

"When does the Duke encounter a meeting with the punkish-ballerina Ed-boy?" The Duke purred, his gaze also fixated on Edward.

"After the show, I set up a special meeting--you and the graceful oaf. Totally alone. Keep it in your pants till then, will ya?"

The Duke nodded, his greedy eyes beading onto Edward.

"It will cost ya though…" Eddy trailed off.

Without looking at Eddy, the Duke removed a small sack containing several quarters, and deposited it in Eddy's clamoring fingers. Eddy blinked back dollar signs, and skipped off.

Stay Tuned, lovelies ;]