| ***this story contains strong sexual content and language Chapter One PARIS 1901 Rico opened the door to the studio on the top floor of the Lamore Garret. He was searching for something or someone in particular. He had been searching for years, never able to find exactly what he was looking for. Not really even sure what it was, but he knew it wasn't back home. Back home, Argentina. He hadn't been there in over four years. Since he left on a boat taking with him only the clothes on his back. He knew what he wanted to do in life wasn't in Argentina. It was in Europe. Europe was filled with opportunity and it was in Germany that Rico got involved in the Bohemian ideals of freedom, beauty, truth and love. Those ideals consumed him and eventually lead him to Paris, the hub of the Bohemian culture. He fit in there, but still he felt that something was missing. Something that would change his life forever. Something that he was destined to discover. What he would soon realize was that it wasn't something at all, but someone. As he walked into the studio he saw two people lying on the bed. The studio was filled with furniture and all sorts of knick-knacks. He couldn't tell at first what the two people on the bed were doing. One seemed to be lying perfectly still, he didn't know if she was alive or dead. The other person was leaning over her doing what looked to Rico to be searching her pockets. He wondered if everything was all right, and almost closed the door and went away until he looked closer and saw the person on the bed. It was Nini, a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. Rico knew her well, in every sense. He walked to the bed. "What are you doing?" He asked. The man was startled and seemed to be drunk. "She passed out." "I see that, what are you doing?" He asked, coming closer to him. "I paid for her, I want something back in return. She obviously isn't going to give me what I paid for." Rico looked at the man questionably. He didn't look like someone from the Moulin Rouge. Harold Zidler would never let such a sleazy looking man in. "Are you from the Moulin Rouge?" "The what?" The man asked. "The club across the way. The place Nini gets her clients. Are you from there?" Rico now faced the man and was looking down at him. "No. I have never been to that club." "Then how did you find Nini?" "She was at the corner." The young man asked, now creeping over to a chair in the corner where his jacket lay. Rico leaned down to smell Nini; sure she'd just had too much to drink. She didn't smell of alcohol. "Why did she pass out?" He asked, now more concerned with what happened to her then how she picked this strange man up. "I don't know. After I picked her up she insisted I pay her immediately and then she gave the money to some other guy. He injected opium into her arm." "Opium?" Rico asked. He knew she did opium, hell they all smoked opium, but injected it? That was unusual. "Yea she said it was a different kind of opium. I didn't question it. But it was my money that paid for it and I want it back if I'm not going to get what I paid for." "Fuck." Rico pulled all the money he had in the world out of his pocket and threw it at the man. "Take the damned money and get the hell out of here." The man looked at the money. "This isn't even a fraction of what I paid her." "GET OUT OF HERE!" Rico yelled. The man grabbed his jacket and left the room. Rico sat down next to Nini. She was breathing, that was good, but they were shallow breaths. He wondered if he should call his friend the Doctor to check her out, but didn't want to leave her. He took in her smell, something he was familiar with, but for some reason that night it smelled intoxicating. He couldn't take it in fast enough. "Nini," he said, hoping to stir her out of unconsciousness. She didn't move. He shook her. "Nini?" Still nothing. He knew she was breathing, he knew she was alive, so she may be okay if he got Doctor to come look at her. He thought about it a moment longer, the stood up to get help. When he reached the door he heard moans. Nini was stirring. He hurried over to the bed. "Mmm. Where am I?" She asked, groggily. "In the studio. Are you okay? What happened?" She smacked her lips together. "God, what is that taste in my mouth?" "I don't know." He looked at her again; she was getting color in her face finally. Now seemed like as good a time as any for questions. "What kind of opium do you inject?" He asked. "What?" "The boy who left you here said you injected opium. What kind of opium do you inject?" "It's nothing. Just opium. It works better if you inject it." She was getting annoyed; she was a grown woman. She didn't need the third degree, especially from him. "You inject it? With needles? In your arm?" She stared at him, "No, they stick it up my asshole. Of course with needles. Why do you care so much? You aren't my father." "No, I'm not. Good thing too." He said. If anyone else had talked to him this way he would have punched them, but not Nini. She didn't need offence, she needed protection. "I'm fine. Why don't you leave now?" She pointed to the door. "I'm not leaving you here. And what were you doing out on the corner?" "What?" "The boy. He said he picked you up on the corner." Nini looked at the door, she wanted an escape. "I needed some quick money." "You work at the Moulin Rouge. A prestigious night club. Why would you need money?" "I just did, okay. Harold gave me the night off. I needed some money, and I got some. Now, really, leave." Rico stood to go. "If you need anything else, I'll be in my room. Satie is at the Rouge tonight, so if you need to talk, we'll be alone." He meant it too. Nini acted tough but she had a hard life in her past, and Rico only knew a fraction of her life. He only knew part of her pain. He wanted to know more. What made this fireball tick? "Okay. Thanks," she said, sincerely. The first sincere thing she'd said all night. And she knew he meant it. She knew he'd be there for her. Rico looked at her one last time, then walked out the door, hoping she would come to his room later. |