It was not difficult for me to secure a position at the Moulin Rogue. Learning to perform the Can-Can was easy with my preternatural abilities and charming the owner of the place was even easier. With the ugly black hair dye gone from my curls and new clothing, I felt beautiful once more. The young blond poet Luc became my mortal slave, utterly devoted to me, often giving me the Little Drink and yet never aware that his mistress was a vampire.

Playing the part of the whore was second nature to me and it shone through despite the fact that I had never been much of a coquette during my affair with Santiago. Now this ability allowed me to deceive the mortal patrons and performers at the Moulin Rouge and helped me become a star. Eventually I rose above the other dancers and had my own act, singing each night. The singing fed my soul and the blood of the rich fed my lust.

I killed much less in those nights, taking little drink after little drink instead. I needed the adulation more than the violence. Besides, killing reminded me too much of the games I used to play with Santiago, and as there were not other vampires at the Moulin Rouge, I did not wish to arouse any suspicions. There were many men who wished to make me their mistress, but I turned them all down. The pleasures they bought of me were momentary only, and were always less than they thought they had paid for. Still, I left no customer unsatisfied.

The girls thought I didn�t accept the offers of my rich clientele out of love for Luc. They also thought that was foolish. I didn�t care what they thought. I didn�t try to make friends of them, though I made sure to be unfailingly kind. I let Luc believe such a thing as well. Though I was genuinely fond of him, I did not love him. My heart was lost to Santiago. Still, it was nice to have someone available to run my errands, to drink from whenever I pleased, to write me poetry, and to shower me with devotion.

Time passed quickly at the Moulin Rouge. A year went by in a blur, nights soaked in blood and lust and absinthe. It was then that I developed my passion for clothing, for now I had money to buy such things and no Armand to forbid it. I was at last my own mistress. I daresay I was even happy. I also realized that I ought to put by money for the future. I was going to need it -- I had a long future ahead of me.

I didn�t look for other vampires, and I encountered none. I didn�t even think about them. Perhaps I assumed that all had died in the fire which had robbed me of Santiago and Estelle.

Girls often came and went from the Moulin Rouge. Some retired, some took the offers of rich patrons, some married. New girls, eager for money and the bohemian lifestyle, were always ready to replace them. After I had been there for two years or so one such new girl arrived. Her name was Paulette Leroux, and although I treated her with my usual kindness, she quickly proved to be of a nasty sort. I watched her false niceness to the other girls whom she would quickly stab in the back in order to gain a better role in the shows or to seduce a particularly rich patron. Soon her vicious ways made her second only to me in popularity among the guests, though many of the dancers and musicians had learned to hate her.

I ignored her and paid her little mind until one night when I had not performed but was sitting upstairs in the balcony watching the others with Nini, a black-haired gossip who I wouldn�t have called a friend but whose company I enjoyed from time to time. Nini was utterly amusing. She fancied women as well as men, so on occasion I took from Nini the little drink. That night, Paulette was scheduled to sing. She was announced and the crowd cheered. I thought nothing of it until Nini poked me in the ribs with one of her long fingernails.

�You had better watch out for that Paulette bitch, Celeste. She�s out to get you.�

I laughed. �Really, Nini. Whatever for?�

�She�s jealous. She wants everything that you possess. You are the star of the Moulin Rouge, after all. She�s just one more diamond dog.�

This only made me laugh harder and I bought Nini another drink since I was so amused, which she drank down greedily.

�How is it that you always have more money than the rest of us, Celeste?� she grumbled.

�I don�t waste it on laudanum.� Or food, or alcohol I added silently. �But tell me, what makes you say this thing about Paulette?�

�She�s after Luc.�

�That�s preposterous.�

�I know. The boy�s besotted with you. Besides, he�s broke.�

�Then why would she want him?�

�Because he�s yours.�

�I see.�

�Listen, Celeste. Paulette is out to ruin you so she can be the star around here. She was never a singer before she came here. But she saw that you were and she copied that.�

Before I could comment, Paulette took the stage. I frowned. The song she was performing was the song I had sung the night before. And her dress, it was red, which was my signature color. The style was the same. She had even styled her garish dyed blond hair the same way as mine.

�She�ll probably be a red head by the end of next week,� Nini said, noting how astounded I was.

I watched Paulette sing, disgusted as she mimicked my routine, if poorly. I clenched my fists. I could kill her. I would have to be clever about it, but I could...

But no. If she was such a pathetic loser that she wanted to steal my act, let her. I could certainly ignore this. I left Nini some coins for another drink and departed the theater. I didn�t feel like watching Paulette any longer. She disgusted me.

I thought about leaving the Moulin Rouge, disappearing for a while and letting her have what she wanted. I knew she would be glad to see the back of me. Let her copy someone else. But no, why should I? After all, I was here first.

I walked around Paris that night, thinking....and for the first time in a long time, I killed. I took a young blond prostitute, murdering her rather roughly, drinking until my blood lust was satisfied if nothing else. I threw her body in the Seine. Then I went home.

When I got to my flat in Monmartre. I sensed immediately that something was wrong. An argument of some type lingered in the air. What was this? I listened.

Luc was at my place. He had my permission to be there after dark, so this didn�t concern me...but someone else was there as well. Paulette! I could hear them talking. Nini was right. The bitch was trying to steal my lover -- but he was refusing her, and remaining loyal to me. I smiled to myself. Soon she would come out.

And she did.

No one ever saw Paulette Leroux again after that night.

And quite frankly, no one missed her or cared that she was gone.