Disclaimer: the characters of Moulin rouge are not mine, though I wish they were, I would so love to live that over and over again. That would be the best, except for the sadness, * tear * isn't Ewan McGregor adorable? Where was I? Oh yes, none of these characters are mine; they all belong to twentieth century fox. All except Christian's mother, whom they never spoke of.

I live here at the Moulin rouge. It is my home, my life, and my prison. I can't remember anything but this; like a bad dream with no end or beginning. I don't allow myself to feel, to care, to love. I have friends, and ones I am fond of, but that's as far as a courtesan can go.
A courtesan.
A prostitute.
A whore.

I sell my love to men with the right amount of money, the more they have the more I care. It's never gentle, never real.

Until Christian. He came into my life here with the talent of a famous writer and the wealth of a true bohemian child.

He wasn't always like that. He had told me of the wealth. Of the parties and jewels. And how all of it meant nothing to him. He left home to escape the responsibility that came with it all. And most of all; his father.

He never told me his father's name, nor his mother's; he only referred to them as mother and father. I assumed he had no siblings, for he never spoke of them.

He told me of his mother dying at an early age, when he was only a boy, and the way his life changed. She had encouraged and nurtured his artistic abilities, buying the typewriter he carried everywhere with him. That damn typewriter. At first when we first started, he'd make love to me, and as though that were inspiration. Afterwards, when he thought I might be asleep, he would go and type another scene into his play.

Me never being a good sleeper wouldn't stand it. I couldn't sleep at all. Then it grew on me, until I couldn't sleep unless he did go and type.

Where was I? Oh yes his mother. He loved her so. He told me she would of loved me, I told him no mother could ever love a courtesan. I never told him that again after the look I got the first time I said it.

After his mother died his father finally had no one to stand in his way when it came to hurting Christian. Physically? No, Christian never once spoke of his father hitting him. Only, mentally and verbally assaulting him...

Well...it's best to start from the beginning, like he told me.