Title: Silence is Easy

Author: Anna Rousseau annadelamico@yahoo.co.uk

Fandom: Moulin Rouge

Genre: Angst/Drama/Song-fic

Category: Christian/Post-Satine

Rating: PG-13

Song: Could You Be Mine? - Starsailor

Summary: Woe is Christian as he confronts the biophysical manifestation of his emotional torment (sorry, I must be more serious when writing summaries!).

Music Notes: Lyrics from the beautifully chilling 'Could You Be Mine? from the 'Silence Is Easy' Single by Starsailor, those indie musical genii! A band to keep an eye on just for the sheer emotionally charged and individual sound they have. I really do enthuse all the time about Starsailor, but they are overlooked by many people as they are obscured by the shadow of Coldplay, Stereophonics, Travis et al (whom I love also) and really deserve more attention as they are amazing live, unlike some bands who are disappointing in the flesh. Without further ado...

Disclaimer: 'Silence is Easy' and 'Could You Be Mine?' are written by Starsailor, and I owe my inspiration to them, yet again. James, Stel, Ben and Barry you rock. Where else will you find a band comprised of a former choirboy, a former Pearl Jam tribute band bassist and an ex-crematorium organist, who had a close shave with Phil Spector?



Christian's head pounds as he lifts his head from the paper strewn desk, his cheek deformed by the impression of the type writer keys he has been uneasily sleeping on, the unnaturally bright spring sunlight of the early morning targeting his absinthe dulled eyes, piercing him like blunt needles. He sees the last words he typed earlier that morning lining the paper drunkenly, still waiting to be completed: 'Silence is easy, it just becomes me. Silence is easy..."

His voice is broken and weary as he sings with fragility. "From the moment the dawn breaks, the panic, the headaches. Sick on the floor."

Christian reaches across empty wine bottles and half drunk glasses of absinthe to pick up a hand tinted photograph of Satine, "I sing for you darling, hope that you're hearing, got you mind." He looks at her face longingly; memories of stolen kisses and tender words making his heart palpitate with agony. He sings with more force as he reaches over for a small box, containing some white tablets the Doctor had given him to aid his mournful sleep. "Cometh the hour, cometh the power, making you mine."

Looking at the damp impregnated ceiling then across to the ruins of the Moulin Rouge Christian sings softly, his voice wavering slightly, "I looked in your eye, fell from the sky. Line dried. Panic is blue, but so is the truth... could you be mine tonight?"

He places the whole contents of the box in his mouth and swills the fatal dose down with the remnants of the Green Fairy's lunatic drink. Standing up he walks hazily out to the balcony and stares, his eyes glimmering with the intoxication of his manic plan, across the dappled rooftops of Montmartre. "And I fell like I'm flying, faster than lightning, across the floor. Give me that reason, something to please them, couldn't ask for more."

He turns and rips one of the yellowing typed pages pinned to his wall and scans it with a bitter laugh. "And I sing for you darling, hope that your hearing, got you in mind." He lets the paper fall from his fingers, caught by a breeze which carries it towards the Sacré Coeur as he leans dangerously over the ledge, his arms held out at his sides like wings, hoping that the wind can carry him like that piece of paper. Carry him to Satine. "Cometh the hour, cometh the power, making you mine."

Christian's eyes are fixed on the rising sun as he lets the wave of drowsiness and absinthe fuelled fantasy cloud his vision. "I looked in your eye, fell from the sky, line dried. Panic is blue, but so is the truth, could you be mine tonight?" he sings vehemently.

He breathes in one last breath, his final words sung with a torment that could only be felt by one who had loved and lost with such violent emotion. "Came in through the wrong door... and lost my life."

Christian looks over the edge of the building and surveys the street below as he leans forward and the cobbles rise up to meet him. "The verdict they returned with... was suicide."

Could she be his tonight?


The End


Short, and not too sweet, written in 15mins on a whim so excuse me!

R/R via ff.net or annadelamico@yahoo.co.uk