Chapter Eight
The words stung Christian with so much pain; he thought
they hadn’t been said for a moment.
“N-…S-satine…This-this can’t be real, this can’t be
happening…” Christian spoke aloud his thoughts, putting his fingertips to his
forehead lightly, looking around franticly. Satine had black lace covering her
hazel eyes, but she couldn’t hide anything. Christian got more and more
confused and frustrated, as Satine simply stood in the doorway, speechless.
“No…this isn’t true, t-tell me the truth!” Christian
demanded, following Satine as she attempted to avoid looking at her love face
to face.
“H-he came to me last night, and he offered me everything.
Everything I’ve ever wanted. Christian, the difference between you and me, is
that you can leave anytime you want. This is my home. The Moulin Rouge is my-”
“Satine, no,” Christian couldn’t bear to hear another word.
“What about last night, what about all that we said? What about running away
together? I…here, j-just wait…”
Christian walked quickly back to his typewriter, and pulled
out the piece of paper sitting in it. He began to read the words he had spent
all night thinking about endlessly.
“I’ll never break your heart…I-I’ll never make you cry…I’d
rather die…”
Tears ran down his
cheeks, as Satine faced away from him, trying not to listen to the words that
called her name. Between sniffling, and slight sobs, Christian sang the words
in his heart, grasping the piece of paper in his hand.
“…then
live without you…I’ll give you a-all of me, honey…that's no lie…”
He looked up to find Satine still facing
away from him. She took a deep breath, and turned around to face Christian, and
tell him what she could tell would break his heart forever. Before a word could
come out of her mouth, he dropped the piece of paper in his hand, and started
un-crumpling the scrunched up papers on the floor. He was looking for one in
particular. After a few tries, he finally found what he was looking for. He
held it in front of him, and wiped the tears off his face, and began to sing
another late-night composition for Satine.
“You can tell the truth, you can tell a
lie, you can try to run from what you feel inside and tell yourself…tell
yourself you don't need me. You can walk away from what you know is right…think
you won't be thinking about me at night and tell yourself tell yourself it'll
be easy. And you might believe it but don't be mislead. You might think it will
be that way…”
Christian
stopped crying, and looked into Satine’s soul, begging her to throw away the
lie, and embrace the truth and live in happiness…but that’s not what Satine
forced herself to think about. She thought about Harold Zidler’s horrible
words, telling her the Duke would kill Christian if she didn’t do the
unthinkable. She couldn’t take her mind away from her precious love being
killed, and Satine knew she had to convince him to leave. She needed to send
him away.
But
Christian continued his clear, beautiful words in song.
“…But you know you
can't fight fate. You can run but you can't run away…No matter what you do…No
matter what you say…when it's meant to be, it's going to be that way. You can't
fight fate…”
Satine finally turned around, holding in tears as best she could, and
spoke the words to Christian that she thought she never would have to say.
“Christian…I
am the Hindi courtesan, and I choose the maharaja. That’s how the story really
ends.”
And
she left. Christian, still grasping onto that piece of paper with the words of
his heart and soul on it, felt his whole world fall apart. He stumbled
backwards onto his bed and sat down, still in shock. He buried his head in his
arms on his lap, and began to cry and sob uncontrollably. This feeling that
took hold of him was indefinitely worse than the stabbing jealousy he felt when
Satine had nearly slept with the Duke. Now, so many thoughts and questions
poured into his mind as he felt all the hope drain from him. Christian barely
heard the crackling thunder begin an enormous storm outside.
He
couldn’t just sit on his bed. He needed to move, and express all the emotions
that were bottled up inside. He felt like the world was spinning around him, as
if he were drinking Absinthe, but the feeling was pure pain and agony, rather
than a tripping on the green fairy. Just thinking about Absinthe brought back
memories of the last several months, when everything had changed in Christian’s
life. He ran down the hallway, outside into the pouring rain, and down the
muddy street to the Moulin Rouge. He called out into the night, into the
freezing rain and into anything or anyone that could hear. He didn’t care
anymore.
“SATINE!……”
He
could feel the hot tears pouring down his face despite the rain covering him
head to toe. He began to sob and cough and gasp, and still shout the name of
his one true love into the
“Sa…Satine…no…”
He
collapsed on the muddy road, and it wasn’t until a half an hour later, when
Toulouse Lautrec found him on the ground, as helpless as a beggar. Christian
was brought back to his garret, and wrapped in dry clothes and a blanket. He
had the most saddened, dazed expression on his face, and didn’t utter a word to
his Bohemian friends. But after a few hopeful and life-changing words from
“I
know it, I know she loves you…”
Christian
was forced to follow his heart, and follow what he believed fate had for him.
He returned to the Moulin Rouge, one last time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’ll Never Break Your Heart”, Backstreet Boys
“You Can’t Fight Fate”, Taylor Daynes