That was the last thing she remembered before everything around her went dark. She'd been vaguely aware of the cries of anguish and the tight grip on her, the heartbreak almost tangible in the air.
It had taken some convincing on her part, but she'd done a good enough job pleading her case to André to enlist his help to pull this off. She wasn't sure what this would all mean for her long term, being a kept woman of sorts. She'd probably never be able to perform again in order to keep a low profile. Would she waste away without any form of artistic expression in her life? Would she find this all worth it in a year or two?
She'd have to. She couldn't turn back now. Christian would have died if he'd carried on the way he had been, either by the Duke's hand or his own. Perhaps he'd learn - grow from this experience and find something to ground himself and keep his emotions in check. Love alone didn't keep a roof over her head or put food on the table. As much as she'd have loved to revel in the fantasy Christian had built, it wasn't realistic. Saving the Moulin Rouge and his life were more important than her relationship with Christian. Besides, she'd have a good life. André could be cruel, but if she put in the effort... She could make something of this new life. Find a way to express her gratitude to him for the opportunity and for his generosity. To keep her fresh and necessary so he wouldn't tire of her.
She'd collapsed on schedule at the opening night of the show, doing her part to sell it and letting the medicine she'd taken to slow her heart do the rest. Perhaps, in time she could learn to love André... And with time, she can only hope she'll be able to forgive herself.
Satine's not sure how long she'd been out, the feeling of soft sheets quite a difference from the cold stage. She begins to stir slowly, her body still feeling more sluggish than normal.
A sigh escapes her lips, shifting and finally opening her eyes to face her new reality. ]
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For Monroth:
That was the last thing she remembered before everything around her went dark. She'd been vaguely aware of the cries of anguish and the tight grip on her, the heartbreak almost tangible in the air.
It had taken some convincing on her part, but she'd done a good enough job pleading her case to André to enlist his help to pull this off. She wasn't sure what this would all mean for her long term, being a kept woman of sorts. She'd probably never be able to perform again in order to keep a low profile. Would she waste away without any form of artistic expression in her life? Would she find this all worth it in a year or two?
She'd have to. She couldn't turn back now. Christian would have died if he'd carried on the way he had been, either by the Duke's hand or his own. Perhaps he'd learn - grow from this experience and find something to ground himself and keep his emotions in check. Love alone didn't keep a roof over her head or put food on the table. As much as she'd have loved to revel in the fantasy Christian had built, it wasn't realistic. Saving the Moulin Rouge and his life were more important than her relationship with Christian. Besides, she'd have a good life. André could be cruel, but if she put in the effort... She could make something of this new life. Find a way to express her gratitude to him for the opportunity and for his generosity. To keep her fresh and necessary so he wouldn't tire of her.
She'd collapsed on schedule at the opening night of the show, doing her part to sell it and letting the medicine she'd taken to slow her heart do the rest. Perhaps, in time she could learn to love André... And with time, she can only hope she'll be able to forgive herself.
Satine's not sure how long she'd been out, the feeling of soft sheets quite a difference from the cold stage. She begins to stir slowly, her body still feeling more sluggish than normal.
A sigh escapes her lips, shifting and finally opening her eyes to face her new reality. ]
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/waves hands about timeline things
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