Chapter Two

 

Christian was dressed in the Argentinean’s best suit, sitting with his new Bohemian friends, barely able to hear anything. When Toulouse Lautrec had found him lying on his bedroom floor, he had also seen the beautiful song that Christian had just written before collapsing. It had still been sitting in his typewriter. Toulouse knew what talent he possessed, and “invited” Christian upstairs. One thing led to another, and before he could say, “But I don’t feel very well,” Christian was at the Moulin Rouge, having the time of his life.

        But then, everything stopped.

        “It’s her…the sparkling diamond.”

        Christian couldn’t move. His eyes were locked on the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. He saw the love he spoke of in his song. He felt a burning sensation inside, but it was not another coughing attack. It was pure, passionate, and overwhelming love that was burning inside him, forcing him to watch Satine, the Sparkling Diamond.

**********

        “Square-cut or pear-shape, these rocks don’t lose their shape, diamonds…”

        Satine slowly rose above the roaring crowd on her swing, singing with a full, boisterous voice.

        “…are a girl’s…best…friend!…”

        She belted out the last note, kissing the audience goodbye as she disappeared from the spotlight. It was decided. Christian would meet Satine and discuss his poetic talents. However, Satine was planning for a much different encounter. Christian took several deep breaths, as he anticipated Satine’s arrival.

**********

        “The DUKE!!!”
        Satine slammed the door shut.
        “HIDE!!!”
        Christian did indeed hide, and through many quick-witted lies of Satine and pleading glances from Christian, the Duke came and went…
        “Do you have any idea, ANY idea, what would have happened if you had been found?!”
        Satine’s voice filled the room. There were beads of sweat on Christian’s brow, and he felt short of breath all of the sudden. He gasped between his words.
        “Oh my…S-sorry…Miss Satine…”
        Satine was confused and concerned as she walked towards Christian, who stumbled backwards and fell onto his back flat onto the bed.
        “Christian! Uh, oh dear…um, Christian?”
        Satine kneeled next to him on the bed, and gave him a little bit of a shake. Seeing as how that did not wake him up, Satine lightly blew cool air onto his face. Christian started to come around, but at that very moment, the Duke returned.
        “It’s a little bit funny…this feeling inside???” the Duke spoke angrily, questioning what exactly was occurring in Satine’s boudoir.
        “Oh, beautifully spoken, Duke, we were j-just…rehearing! Meet our writer…Um, Christian, this is the Duke!”
        “Wha-what…? I, oh yes…the show, I…it’s c-called S-spectacular, uh…Spectacular…and it’s about…well, it’s about love!”
        “…Love?”
       
        Soon enough, the Duke had been convinced that the most amazing, dazzling, marvelous, but above all, Spectacular production would be shown at the Moulin Rouge, and the Bohemians had a show. While the celebration party raged on the roof, Christian tried to write. But all he could think about was Satine. He still felt highly embarrassed over fainting right in front of the woman he was madly in love with. He stood up from his typewriter, and began walking towards the balcony. His thoughts grew into song, as Christian quietly reflected on his love for Satine.

        “If I should die…this very moment…I wouldn’t fear.”

He breathed in a fresh mouthful of smoky, Bohemian, Absinthe-filled
Montmartre air, and exhaled slowly.

        “For I’ve never known completeness…like being here.”

Christian shivered as a cool breeze passed by. The shiver faded, as his thoughts returned to Satine.

        “Wrapped in the warmth of you…loving…every breath of you…”

        He remembered the happiness of the evening, when the two lovers were dancing in the stars…They had their own separate world, even if only for a short time. He truly believed they were in love, and Christian smiled a little, realizing the real reason he came to
Paris.

        “How wonderful life is…”

        Christian put his hand to his mouth, and leaned forward into a slight cough. He then took his hand from his mouth, and finished the words he wrote for his love.

        “…now you’re in the world.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Gorecki", by Lamb (Louise Rhodes and Andy Barlow)
"Your Song", by Elton John

 

 

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