stories from the city; damon albarn

2000

Chloe Erlich had never in her entirety of being around her husband been jealous. Not with Kelly MacDonald during Trainspotting. Never. Whether there was a sex scene, a romance, whatever the fuck- she had never ever thought for a minute that her husband would be any chance find his costar attractive.

Usually, it was Ewan who was jealous of whoever Chloe was working with. Whether it be a band, fellow photographer, celebrity, Ewan was the jealous one. I mean, it had happened consistently with Damon Albarn. And he had good cause for that. Especially since 1999..

Oh well, he didn't know anything about that. And hopefully never would.

But everything had changed in the year 2000 with the looming presence of Moulin Rouge- and for the first time, Chloe Erlich was distinctly jealous of the time her husband was spending with his costar Nicole Kidman. And he knew it because Chloe was not the silent type and because the film had been the cause of their most recent martial problems.

Ewan was playing a fucking Bohemian in France, who was in love with a prostitute.

And there was singing and dancing.

It didn't help that it was a campy, overly sexual Baz Luhrmann film as well.

God, it had been driving her off the wall. Especially when she watched all the press interviews for the damn thing. How the movie was advertised. It was like she didn't exist. Like Nicole Kidman wasn't married and like Ewan hadn't been with someone for 6 years, let alone also have children.

It was like Chloe Erlich didn't exist. Unless she was at home with her husband, watching him play around with their kids.

To make matters worse, they were still in the shitshow of a city that was LA.

It was December of 2000, around the holiday season- and Chloe had paid for some hoity toity decorator to fix up their house for the season. Meaning that they were quite stocked up for the onslaught of Christmas celebrations to come.

She had a three year old and a one year old who were learning about fucking Santa and reindeers, all while watching their father on the big screen, the television or in the paper.

The worst had been when the December issue of Vogue came out- featuring Annie Leibovitz's coverage and photography of Moulin Rouge, as a way to promote the film. The editorial had sent a few copies in a nice rouge packaging and it had been sitting, hidden in Ewan and Chloe's shared closet for days now.

It was tucked behind a shelf on Ewan's side of the rather large and extensive closet, between a pair of riding boots and far past his motorcycle jackets, meaning that Chloe wouldn't dare check that side for anything to begin with.

It had been a rather risqué shoot and that was why he had hidden it.

He had already picked fights with Chloe about the damn film already. He'd skipped cast dinners and wrap parties because of it. And had even had to call off one of the wrap dinners he had partially planned to occur at his house because of it.

Chloe had threatened to take the kids and fly back to London, she'd locked him out of the house for coming home at 3 AM, looking like a fucking wreck on top of it all.

She really hated the film.

Part of him understood it, it was a much bigger and more extravagant film than he'd done in the past. And he seemed to get along well with Nicole Kidman. But then again, she'd never been jealous before, so part of him found it funny and liked seeing that his wife did in fact care for him that deeply.

But he didn't want to be locked outside again.

So he'd hidden the spread, knowing that no one in their right mind would ask Chloe about it, or tell her about it's existence. Except for her sister Joan maybe. Which did worry him.