And This One's For You (Moulin Rouge)

5. Stay

Violet's POV:

My head! What is with my head this morning? It feels as though someone has hit my head with a hammer continuously throughout the night. It throbs in pain as my eyes scrunch together as I try to open them. I open my eyes slightly, a bright room already trying to blind my vision. I feel as though someone is still continuing to knock on my head, but as I open my eyes a little wider, I see a young man sitting at his desk working on his typewriter. My eyes manage to climates to the bright room, to which I see wallpaper shredding off from the walls, the foundations peeping through the gaps. It is a simple room, a small apartment I think. The sun is shining brightly through the white curtain at the door to the balcony. The curtains material is very thin and translucent, allowing the sunlight to shine well through it. The double bed I lie in is soft and very comfortable, a thin sheet wrapped around me, myself still in my blue and white milkmaid dress I have worn during my travels. There's a little speck of blood on my shoulder, which I struggle to remember how and what happened last night. I notice that beside me on the floor, a pillow and a blanket is sprawled on the floor next to the bed I am in. It looks as though the young man writing slept on the floor. My bags I piled neatly next to his desk, and a glass of water stands on the bedside table next to me.

I take a sip of the water, my movement catching the young man off guard. He spins around in his chair to which he smiles at me.

"You're awake" he says in a soft voice. His voice is calming and sweet, almost charming for a stranger. "How is your head?" he asks me.

"It hurts like crazy!" I let out a slight giggle. "What happened last night?" I ask the young boy.

"I followed you, after you left the gates of the Moulin Rouge. I wanted to make sure you were safe. A drunken man had attempted to rob you, to which you fell and hit your head on the ground which knocked you straight out. I dealt with the drunk and brought you here. My friends upstairs helped me bring your stuff to my apartment." I stare at the young boy before me as he explains how he saved my life last night. He has beautiful light blue eyes that glisten in the sunlight.

"Thank you, I truly appreciate what you have done for me. You saved my life, and for that I am indebted to you. What is the name of the man before me who saved my life?" I ask him.

"I am Christian. It is a pleasure to meet you" the boy says as he grabs my hand, planting a soft kiss on it.

"I am Violet. It is a pleasure to meet you too." We stare at each other for a few moments, my hand still in his, our eyes transfixed on each others. I notice an element of pain and sorrow within his eyes, as if he is or has been grieving for someone, maybe a friend or a lover? Christian breaks eye contact first, letting go of my hand and looking to the floor, unsure what to do now. "Where are you from, Christian?" I ask him, trying to make him feel less uneasy.

"I am from England, I travelled here almost three years ago in search of the Moulin Rouge. My father didn't agree with me, he believed that art was evil and love was pointless. But I wanted to prove him wrong, so I came over here to write about the Moulin Rouge. I recognise your accent, are from England too?" he asks me.

"London." I reply to his question. "I became a courtesan in London and decided that I was to come to France to join the Moulin Rouge. But now I find out it's closed and I've just almost died. It's like the universe is telling me to turn around and go back. But I can't go back home, I have no life there anymore." I say quite disappointingly. "But it's nice to know somebody from where I came from. I don't feel so alone now." I give a soft smile to Christian. "What do you do for work?" I ask.

"I am a writer, I sold a story last year about the Moulin Rouge and it did pretty well. But I won't leave this place, I just know that this is where I truly belong, even if it isn't much anymore." Christian says. "What will you do now? Will you go back home?" he asks me.