A/N: READ THIS! Hi! So, I had this idea, and I know it's been done before, but I still want to give it a shot. Now, I do warn you, I won't be continuing it unless I get reviews asking me to do so, even if I am also writing it for my own enjoyment. But too many times I've started stories on request and got a ton of reads but no reviews, which really pisses me off. So if you do like this, and would like me to continue, please review. If you don't, then I'll be saying goodbye to this story much sooner than I'd like to. Thank you for reading.
Christian has not been to the Moulin Rouge for seven years.
It seems strange to him that nothing has changed. The red windmill is still spinning, men are still flocking in, and he can still hear the whores cackling with laughter from within.
It was Toulouse who persuaded him that he has to return, with his soppy talk about 'closure' and his beautiful drawings of the can-can dancers. Christian had resisted the lure of that decadent place for such a long time, but it was not until Toulouse nagged him that he realised how much he needed to return.
He sneaks in, easy in the crowd, making his way backstage, where all the best memories happened. Zidler must not see him; there would be questions, awkward questions, and an empty, meaningless "I'm sorry for your loss". No, not today. Zidler means nothing to him now.
"You shouldn't be here" the woman's voice comes from a place of shadow, also behind the heavy crimson curtain where he stands, bringing with it a heady scent of perfume and cigarette smoke.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude" he says quickly, squinting into the darkness, "I just, I spent some time here a few years ago and I wanted to see if anything had...changed"
She steps into the light and, for a moment, he believes he is dreaming. She is porcelain pale with flaming red hair, full red lips pursed as she puffs on her cigarette.
Only her eyes, a brilliant raven black, reveal that she is not his Satine, but someone else altogether, and not someone he has seen before.
"Who are you?" she asks coolly, eyeing him thoughtfully.
"Christian. I'm a writer" he replies. Now that he knows she is not the one he longs for, he wants to leave. But she holds him still with her vague, interested eyes.
"A writer? How...Bohemian" she takes a long drag and crushes the spent cigarette under a diamond-encrusted heel. She is wearing a glittering silver corset costume, a fan of fluffy white feathers threaded with silver sequins trailing behind her, and a pair of shimmering charcoal-grey stockings.
"You're the sparkling diamond" he concludes, staring at her. She nods.
"Yes. The latest in a long line, so I hear"
"I knew another sparkling diamond, once" he tells her, almost dizzy, drained from just being in the building, behind this stage.
"That's nice" she pauses, producing a packet from her corset, "Cig?"
He shakes his head, "No thank you"
"Pity. I smoke twenty a day, me"
There is a curtain call. She straightens, tucking the packet away, and turns towards the still-closed velvet curtains.
"What do you want?" she asks, not looking at him, focusing on the show to come.
"I don't know" he answers, truthfully, and now she does look at him, musing.
"You should go and watch the show" she suggests, "Maybe you'll find what you're looking for"
"I don't think so" he replies at once.
She turns back to the material, rolling her eyes, and starts humming a tune under her breath, "A kiss on the hand may be, quite continental – "
"But diamonds are a girl's best friend" he finishes for her. She smiles through closed lips, eyes darting towards his.
"You're sparkling diamond used to sing this too, I guess?"
"Yes" he says, "She was wonderful"
"You haven't seen me yet" she flaps her hand towards the exit door, "Go and take a seat. I promise you won't be disappointed. No man has ever been disappointed in me" she gives a glittering self-confident smile. He makes to move away, but freezes, suddenly realising.
"What's your name?"
She smiles, sparkling, "Sabine"
He stares at her for a few moments, then rushes to join the audience before the curtain rises.
A/N: This is only a short chapter, just as a taster to see if you want me to continue. Remember, if you do, please review! (hehe that was like a little nursery rhyme).