Chapter Nine
The music of one of the last numbers in “Spectacular,
Spectacular” blared in Christian’s ears, as he snuck around the backstage of
the Moulin Rouge. He was careful that no one would see him, but he figured no
one would hear him over the music and singing. He stopped surrounded by four
wooden poles, and listened to Satine’s beautiful voice sing, as the music
ceased. She sounded perfect. After a brief moment, Christian felt a burning
sensation in his chest, but he pushed it away with a few quick breaths. He had
had a few of those moments walking down the street to the Moulin Rouge.
Christian arrived at Satine’s dressing room, after the
Hindi song and dance had ended. She was alone, looking sorrowfully into the
mirror, and re-applying some blush. She dropped it when she saw Christian’s
reflection in her side mirror.
“You…you shouldn’t be here.”
“I came to pay my bill.”
Beads of sweat lay across Christian’s head, and he felt
quite shaky, as he gripped the money in the sweaty palm of his right hand.
Satine glanced down at the bills of money he was holding so tightly, but
quickly remembered those terrible words that Harold Zidler had spoken to her.
The Duke is going to kill Christian. No, she couldn’t be seen with him, or
she’d never be able to forgive herself for the consequences.
“No…Christian, just leave.”
Satine hurriedly walked past Christian and out into the
hallway backstage. Christian wouldn’t give up at that. He followed her, with
unstable steps and was barely able to keep up. Tears fell down Satine’s cheek.
“Christian…leave, now. No…please…”
“Sa-Satine, let me pay. Why-why won’t you let me pay like
everyone else?”
He continued following her down the backstage hallway, and
when Satine reached the door onto the stage, she saw the Duke’s manservant
aiming a gun at Christian, who was directly behind her. She took a short breath
in simultaneously with Christian, who was gasping for another reason. It was
involuntary; something inside of him was forcing him to gasp and sputter his
words.
“T-tell me it wasn’t real! Tell me nothing was r-real!”
Christian yelled at Satine, who had turned around and was trying her hardest to
push him away.
“No, Christian…please, don’t!”
“Tell m-me you don’t love me! TELL ME YOU DON’T LOVE ME!”
The doorway opened, and the entire room gasped, at the
astonishing appearance. Christian and Satine both were tearful and shaking, as
Christian held Satine’s wrists, along with his money. After Harold Zidler had
won the audience back with some quick improvisation, Christian took a short
breath in and coughed. It was the only sound heard.
He lifted Satine up by her wrist and dropped her onto the
lower level of the stage.
“This woman is yours now,” Christian pointed to Satine,
looking at Zidler but speaking to the Duke, with as much hurt and pain as he
could. He then bored his once innocent eyes into Satine’s.
“Th-thank you for curing me of my ridiculous obsession
with-love.”
Christian leaned forward into another cough, as Satine
looked away from him, sobbing along with Christian’s cough. He took one last
look at Satine, full of heartache, and began to walk down the stairs, and down
the aisle of the Moulin Rouge. Satine remained on the floor of the stage, in
utter shock. After Harold had attempted to reassure Satine, she somehow stood
on her feet, and started to recite the lines of the play. Christian was halfway
down the aisle, his heart and soul full of pain, suffering, confusion, but most
of all, just an urge to keep walking. So, he did.
But
then, he heard something unbelievable. Everyone in the theatre did as well,
along with Satine, who was still sobbing uncontrollably on stage. Toulouse
Lautrec fell from his high perch above the stage, and shouted the words that he
wholly believed in, and followed as a true Bohemian.
“The
greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return!”
The
room fell silent. Not a sound was heard, after those words filled the Moulin
Rouge, until on stage, Satine felt something. Those words made a voice inside
her heart tell her what was right. She took a few breaths in, and in those
breaths, she heard the song in her soul come to her lips.
“Never
knew…I could feel…like this.”
She
turned around, not paying any attention to anyone, anything, but Christian.
“Like
I’ve never seen the sky before…Want to vanish, inside your kiss…”
Christian
felt Satine’s voice pouring into him. The urge to continue walking out the
doors of the Moulin Rouge was slowly fading, as the love of his life’s song
cried out to him. The orchestra joined in quietly with Satine’s voice, which
wasn’t quivering anymore.
“Everyday
I’m loving you more and more. Listen to my heart…can you hear it sing…Come back
to me, and forgive everything…,” Satine belted out the notes with all the
passion she held for the love that she couldn’t believe she had lied to herself
about. Nothing mattered but Christian.
“Seasons
may change…winter to spring.”
Satine
whispered the words that only her love could hear and know were true.
“I
love you…till the end of time.”
Christian
had stopped completely, and he didn’t realize he was slowly turning around to
face Satine. He heard her voice echoing in every fiber of his being, forcing
him to return to her. He wanted to go back. He loved her. Instead of that
strange sensation in his throat, the words that he had written for his love
came from his lips.
“Come
what may…”
He
sang again, stronger this time, and turning around completely.
“Come what may…Come what
may…Come what ma-a-ay…”
He
sang the words over and over again, each time feeling more and more confident
and more drawn to Satine, who stood with a nearly forgotten smile on her face.
“I
will love you…”
She
sang back to him, and they sang in perfect harmony, until the moment Christian
reached the stage, when the two star-crossed lovers looked longingly into each
other’s eyes.
“I
will love you…until my dying…”
Just
at that pivotal, emotional moment, Toulouse Lautrec came flying across the
stage, hanging for dear life onto a rope attached to the ceiling.