Chapter 2: Chained by the Past
Naruto felt a pain in his chest for a moment as he heaved a sigh, a hand pressed against his satin-adorned chest. Although he wouldn't admit it to anyone else, Naruto had been feeling sick... almost nostalgic.
There were no windows where he slept. There never were. Sometimes, Naruto believes he has forgotten what the muted morning light lookes like as it slips through windows and awakens all in its path. The fresh morning air. Birds chirping in the distance. It's all a blur him, now. He had been living with the owner of the Moulin Rouge since he was 5 years old. This pungent, illusionary whore-house has been his home for the past 8 years, since it first opened when he was 11 years old. Naruto supposed it would make sense that he didn't remember what the morning looked like, anymore. His daily schedule usually was waking up around 5pm, eating supper, dressing himself for the night's show, occasionally selling his body, eating dinner, then going to sleep around 9am.
This all started when his parents died in a fire when he was a baby. Paris was never a forgiving place, especially for orphan children with no money, family, or home. Naruto could barely remember the fast language of the gossiping women discussing the French and Vietnamese war that was happening at that very moment. Although philosophy had risen during this time, food had been rationed for soldiers, and anyone who could not feed themselves was left to die.
It was at this time that a drunkard had spotted the young Naruto, and thought him to be appealing. Naruto screamed for help, but no one hears the cries of a forgotten child. His frail arms pushed at the large man, but to no avail. That man took everything Naruto had left: his innocence. It then began to rain, water falling onto the broken, abused body of a little, blond French boy whose eyes no longer shined brilliantly with the azure brilliance it had earlier that day.
A few hours later, a man cloaked in red saw the broken body, and pitied the angelic child that lost everything to a single, lecherous stranger. So, he wrapped the boy in his red cloak and took the boy home with him, hoping to preserve what little chance that boy had left to live and smile again. That man was like a father to Naruto. For the next six years, Naruto did everything he could help that man complete his dream, to open the Moulin Rouge in the Pigalle red-light district of Paris. When that man finally opened the Moulin Rouge, Naruto had volunteered himself to be a part of the act, and soon he was the star of the show. Naruto, just a child, had forced himself to learn every trick in the book to seduce men and sexually arouse them to the point where they want nothing but to fuck the blonde boy senseless. This was the only way Naruto could pay that man, Jiraiya, back for saving his life when no one else cared.
Naruto awoken from his flashback as a loud knock on his door echoed in the small space of his dressing room. "Come in," Naruto chimed, turning to the mirror in front of him as he began fixing his golden blond curls framing his flaxen, flawless face.
"Naruto?" the female voice whispered. Naruto didn't need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to, but twirled around regardless, just to be polite.
"Yes, Hinata?" Naruto flashed a sweet grin at the fidgeting girl in front of him. She had always been shy, which was why she was usually kept in the back rooms and sewing outfits that had been ripped by drunk lechers that couldn't keep their hands to themselves.
"It's 8 o'clock and Jiraiya-sama would like a word with you." Hinata had pale skin, lavender eyes, and long, black hair that was tied back into a loose bun. Her dress was white with lavender and very conservative compared to what other women at the Moulin Rouge wore. Naruto thought it was cute how innocent she could be, though. Sometimes, he even found himself jealous of the 18 year old girl in front of him.
"Alright, I'll be up in a minute." Naruto turned around to the mirror, inspecting his make-up. However, it was until he heard the door close behind Hinata that he heaved another sigh. His days here had been so exhausting and boring as of late. Sometimes he dreamed of leaving the Moulin Rouge, if even for a day, to see the world outside. Naruto had heard of many things that were happening outside this place, including the construction of the Eiffel Tower. It had only started to be built this year, and everyone in French was in a mix of excitement and disgust. Naruto, on the other hand, was anything but disgusted. Naruto had always dreamed of escaping this place and making his own place in the world as an actor. No longer would he adorn these slutty dresses, lingerie, and spread his legs for countless men. He would never again be forced to moan or get on his knees and pleasure a man he reviled. Those sick, twisted men disgusted him, and he wanted nothing more than to throw up when they whispered dirty comments and demands into his ear. Naruto couldn't even count the number of times had had to fake an orgasm because he just couldn't get off on those perverts groping him of thrusting themselves inside him. It all made Naruto sick, but that was why he was such a good actor. He could moan and scream in delight as these sick men touched him. He could bend over and give them a show, smiling ear to ear, when he wanted to shriek in disgust.
Naruto picked up the crimson red lipstick and painted his lips perfectly before smearing just the right amount of charcoal around his eyes to make his blue eyes shine. His golden hair was cut and styled into perfect curls that sat on his, giving him the most angelic appearance, even considering his line of work. His red, satin dress that he was wearing hugged his chest tightly and draped down his curved hips, a slit running up his left thigh to reveal scandalous scallop lace-top stockings that were connected to a black and red Parisian lace corset beneath the dress, unseen. Since he had a few hours until the show, Naruto's shoes were simply a pair of black French slippers that Naruto could around in for hours at a time. It made it easier for him to run up and down stairs, getting costumes, rehearsing dance of singing numbers, and even the occasional emergency when things weren't running as smoothly as they all hoped. He could still remember that time that one of the wealthy drunkards carried a gun, and held it to one of our Diamond Dogs (as Jiraiya likes to call them). The rest of us either ran to the back room or ran to the man before taking off all our clothes to distract him before taking the gun from his hand and kicking him to the curb. Luckily, that man was so wasted he didn't even remember that night.
Before Naruto left his dressing room, crowded with costumes, make-up, and flowers received from men that claim to love him, he looked one last time at the mirror. This room and everything he was had all given to him. It was why he couldn't leave. If it wasn't for the Moulin Rouge, Naruto would have died that night 14 years ago on the streets. This small room, lit by electrical bulbs that framed the mirror, was a gift from God... and Naruto had to use the rest of his life to repay the man that gave it to him.
The stroll to Jiraiya's room took about 10 minutes. Naruto traveled from dark corridor to dark corridor before he finally entered a hall that was lined with a red carpet and lit with lights on the wall. It was amazing how much the view of the Moulin Rouge contrasted from the inner corridors used by only the women and few men that worked here, and the halls that the guest walked through. It was all an illusion, this elegant and simple hall. These rich men that came here only come for the shows and the women, thinking it's the most beautiful thing in the world, when the reality is that it's just like any other whore-house in Pigalle. Across the street from the Moulin Rouge are sex shops and cheap hotels, and nearby is the Montmartre, the highest place in Paris. It's all magic, isn't it? How we can feign such beauty and elegance, when all we do is wear fancy dresses, put on make-up, and dance, sing, and act? Of course, we can't forget the strip-tease and their very own creation: the Can-Can.
Brought back from his thoughts, Naruto eyed the double-doors in front of him suspiciously. It was regally decorated with oak and gold, and the room behind it was just as lavishly decorated. As he walked into the room, he let at a sigh as he saw Jiraiya relaxing on his office chair, smoking opium calmly. Naruto coughed a little, the exotic smoke having filled the room.
"Naruto, you came!" Jiraiya laughed heartily, motioning for the blond to come and stand near him. Obeying like a good pet, Naruto walked closer, waving some smoke away from his pretty face before he sat on the desk in front of Jiraiya, his bare leg come to rest seductively on the surface of the desk. "As lovely as always, Naruto. Just like my Dazzling Diamond Dog should be. I have a proposition for you."
Naruto eyed Jiraiya suspiciously before he opened his red lips to speak, "How unusual, old man. Does it involve money or sex? It probably does, considering it's you." The blond sneered jokingly, his delicate eyebrow raised in question.
"Actually, it isn't," he replied, his own voice laced in annoyance. "But I want you to sing your special number, tonight. Remember, the one where you pretend to be innocent before you slowly take off your clothes? We might be having a special guest tonight, and I think he will like that one." Naruto couldn't help but grimace at the thought of stripping on stage, again. Jiraiya usually left that sort of act for the cheaper women. However, Naruto never turned down a singing proposition, even if it did include stripping.
"Fine. What do you want me to wear?"
"Wear white silk over black and red lingerie, like the one you're wearing now." Jiraiya smirked, lifting his hand to trace the ribbon that led up to the sexy corset Naruto wore underneath.
"Fine!" Naruto snapped, slapping Jiraiya's hand away before he stormed to the door and left. What Naruto didn't see, however, was that Jiraiya was snickering to himself at how childish Naruto was acting.
"You never change, Naruto. Always the mischievous demon behind an angel's face. If only happiness was as easy for you to grasp as it is for everyone else in the world." Jiraiya's mocking smirk soon turned to a sad smile as he filled his lungs with the sweet, toxic smoke of the opium in his hand.
Author's Note:
Yes, I kept Naruto as a boy even though he's now a showgirl at the Moulin Rouge. Lol, so I can't wait to see how this is going to turn out. I am actually nervous, since I don't feel like I'm doing well as a writer today… or any day. I still remember the days when writing came easily and inspirations were easy to come by. *sighs* So, I plan on continuing this by spending at least one hour on it every day. That means I should have a chapter up once every other day, maybe every day, or at least once a week when I am having busy weeks. My goal for the next chapter is to exceed 3,000 words! Rate and Review, please! :D
P.S.: Who should be the Duke? ;D