more to life than rush

you can call me babyface. i've got a drug for every sin. drug lord, king, and everything in between

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

Mona smiled, looking away for a second before turning to him again. “People like to see me on stage because I’m young, and beautiful, and because I have a fantastic voice; but I have so much more to learn still. You should see the older actresses, Baby. You should hear them speak, how clear their voices are, how they can go from one emotion to another without even blinking.”, she sighed. “I didn’t have nearly enough time. Perhaps with practice I could have been one of them.” And there was still a chance for her to do it, if only she dared to betray all her friends, everyone who had welcomed her back to the Moulin Rouge with open arms. “You’re right, we can. I know the place, and I’m sure they remember me. We could spend the night there, and sleep under the stars. How does that sound? It’ll be just like when we were children, and we would cuddle up anywhere, and I’d fall asleep on your shoulder.”

Nothing was the same as before, though, and Mona knew she had to get used to that. However, there was something lingering between them, a fondness that couldn’t be ignored. It was because of that that she refused to give up; she wasn’t going to quit trying to build whatever was between them back up. It was going to be different, obviously, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily going to be worse. For a second she let herself believe that there was hope, that one day perhaps she could tell him the truth, and explain what had happened, and that he wouldn’t be mad at her. 

His next confession made her blush. Not because it was unexpected; she was sure they had been in love back then; but because hearing him say it filled her chest with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like being a teenager again, like the feeling of her heart racing every time he would take her hand and guide her through the secret passageways of the Moulin Rouge. 

“Of course you were.”, she smiled, leaning into his touch once again. His thumb on her pink cheek felt like burning. Mona leaned forward, her lips only inches away from his. “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”, she whispered with a chuckle, as if she was telling him something forbidden. “I was so nervous. I remember my hands couldn’t stop shaking. I was so afraid of doing it wrong.”

“You can still be one of them. You’re going to be more than what you could be if you were stuck here, Mona, you’re going to be bigger than the Moulin Rouge one day, this is just a stop,” Babyface assured her. He meant it, too. If anyone was going to be more than the club they had both been raised in, it would be Mona. She had found a way to leave in the first place, she would find a way again, and when she did, she would make all of her dreams come true. He only hoped, vaguely, that maybe the next time she left, he would be able to go with her. It felt impossible, given where he was, who he was now, but it was hard not to hope, now that she was back with him.

“That sounds like the ideal. And I can point out the constellations my mum taught me, tell you the stories. Cuddled up together, under the stars,” he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of doing something like that again. Could they had it, he wasn’t sure? But the thought made him feel hopeful. No matter how much had changed, how much they had both gone through separately, how long she had been away, there was still a chance for something familiar, he had to believe there was.

Being with Mona, settling into something more familiar, made Babyface feel a lot like it was ten years ago, before he had fallen into so much shit, before he had been abandoned by the people he loved the most. It was a dangerous feeling, he knew, but how could he possibly keep his distance from Mona, when he had been waiting for her for so long? It felt like coming home and finding the fire ready, warm and cozy, with his favorite tea waiting there for him. All just being back with her.

“How could I forget? You were trying so hard to act like you weren’t, but I could tell,” he laughed lightly, unable to keep himself from licking his lips. His eyes flickered down to hers, and it took all of his strength not to lean forward and kiss her again, right then and there. He didn’t move his hand from her cheek, unable to stop touching her. “It was a good kiss, though, especially for the first kiss we shared. Even though I was nervous, too. I think it went pretty bloody well.”

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

Maybe one day. Was that even possible? Perhaps one day they were going to be able to get past all of this. He wouldn’t have to act like his father to make a living, and she wouldn’t have to be a snitch. It sounded like a wonderful future, one where they could be sincere to one another. It seemed like the only option if they ever wanted to have what they used to. It almost broke her heart that choice looked borderline impossible now. He was keeping quiet, and she was fooling him. What kind of true honesty was going to be there once this charade ended? Once he found out her true purposes. It was hopeless, no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise. 

Yet she couldn’t help but feel her chest swell with warmth when he asked her to tell him things about her adventures beyond Paris. She as if they were children once again, exchanging stories and imagining a world together outside the Moulin Rouge. “Well, I didn’t really get to travel a lot around the world or anything. I did good, but I wasn’t that famous. Still we travelled to Spain a couple times. My favourite was back when we performed Othello. People were just fascinated. We got a standing ovation.”, she beamed. “Oh! And there was this one time we spent the night at a villa in Provence. The whole company. The stars in the sky were huge. I couldn’t stop thinking about you that night. You would have loved that view.” 

His hand on her face felt so safe, so familiar, that her cheeks turned bright pink and she leaned into his touch. “That’s where you’re wrong baby, my darling. Nothing can be sad when it comes to us. We will always find a way to make it better if we’re together.” Her fingers went to his jaw, and she slowly leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. When she pulled back she was smiling, eyes looking at him filled with a mix of determination and stubbornness.

“You know I was in love with you, right? When we were younger, I was. And I know you’re going to say we were just kids, and we knew nothing about love. But that’s a lie. What I felt for you then was real. I know it because I never felt anything quite like that after.”

Listening to her stories made him so happy for her, but also so infinitely sad in a way. He wished that he had been able to experience the world, that maybe one day he could. He had said maybe it would be possible, but it was hard to know if that was actually true, no matter how much they both wanted it to be. Still, hearing about what she had gotten to do and see while she was gone made him smile. “That sounds brilliant. Spain. I wish I could’ve seen you in a play, in Othello; I bet you stole the show,” he said, the awe clear in his voice. He couldn’t help but look down a little bashfully when she mentioned thinking about him that night. He didn’t want to admit just how many nights he had thought about her, too, when he sat on the roof where they used to be together. “Maybe one day we can go to Provence ourselves. See the stars from a villa together.”

The small kiss she pressed to his cheek sent a chill down his spine. It made him want to really kiss her, like they used to when they were teenagers, sneaking up onto the rooftop, kissing messily and unpracticed, but enjoying every minute of it. She was right, after all, they would always find a way to make it better, as long as they were together. They would manage to do the same now, no matter how much he worried that it would be impossible to ignore the feeling of being abandoned, the bitterness that he had trouble swallowing. At least she was here now, though, and not months before. Now, they really stood a chance.

Babyface couldn’t help but grin at her confession, the words taking him back to that time when everything had felt a whole lot easier between them, when things were still comfortingly familiar. If he was being honest, he had probably been a little bit in love, too. What else would explain how crushed he had been when he had realized she wasn’t going to come back for him? Maybe it hadn’t been what love was as an adult, maybe it had been too pure, too innocent to last longer than they had had it without it changing, but she was right, it was real then.

“We might’ve known nothing of love then, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t feel it. Maybe I was a little in love with you back then, too,” he admitted, thumb brushing over her cheek softly, looking at her with a fondness that had stood the test of time, the trails they both faced.

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

Mona smiled, nodding slightly. She wished he could have been there for her as well, and she also wished she could have been here for him, whatever had happened. Perhaps things would have been different if they had, if she had stuck around, or if he had run away with her. Where would they be now? Still together? Most likely. Would they care for each other like they did when they were children? Simone wasn’t sure. Not because she ever stopped caring about him, or even missing him, but because she had learned things like love turned much more complicated as time went by. Wasn’t the purest form of love the one she had known as a teenage girl, as she held his hand and they sneaked out to the roof together to look at the stars? She definitely thought so. 

Life was harder now. They had both been alone, they had both gotten into trouble. She had had it all, or so she had thought at the time - and now apparently it was his turn. The tables had turned, and she had to witness how he acted like his father did in the past, like the place was his, as if he was a king. It wouldn’t have bothered her if she had known that was what made him happy. But she knew Baby enough to realise it wasn’t. This was never what he had wanted to be in the first place, and she doubted that had changed. At least she needed to believe that. She wished to believe the person in front of her wasn’t such a stranger, that despite everything that had happened, there was still some William inside Babyface. 

“I wish you had been there too, but not for me, I just wish you had been there, seeing the things I was seeing. You would have liked it.” Not that there was anything she could do about that now. It was pointless to dwell in the past, when there was nothing to do to change it. He was what he was, and she was what she was as well - a drug dealer and a liar. What a crazy pair they made. If only their mothers could see them now. In a way it was ironic, how they had both come full circle and turned into what their parents were. It was borderline funny, in a painful and bitter way. 

His next words made her chuckle, and it wasn’t until too late that she noticed a couple of tears rolling down her cheek. “Maybe you can. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”, she said, voice charged of emotional laughter, letting herself believe for a second something like that was even possible. “I’m glad to know you believe in me, after all this time, after everything I did. I still believe in you as well, even if I don’t know what happened to you. Even if you decide not to tell me.”

It was just like her, to be thinking of him even through her own success. It made his heart swell with something that was once pure love, platonic, romantic or otherwise, but was now unidentifiable, something waiting to become what it once was. Of course, she had thought of him, just as much as he had thought of her. He only wished that thoughts did as much as actions. “I wish I had been able to see all of that, too. Maybe one day, though,” he said with a little shrug, a sad sort of smile. 

Did he really believe that? That one day he might be able to see the world beyond Paris, that he might be able to see the wonders she had gotten to see out there? He wasn’t sure. If anything, as it was, he had a feeling the only way he would see the world was the same way his father had seen the world, by taking his drug empire from Ireland to France. He could expand, make it international, find his own base somewhere else. But he didn’t really want that. Hell, everything he had now, he had never asked for in the first place. It had been given to him, and now that he had it, it was impossible to let it go, given the power he had. He was a king. And this was his kingdom. He wasn’t meant to go anywhere else. “Tell me about the world out there. I want to hear about everything you saw beyond Paris.”

When Babyface looked back at her, he saw his own pain reflected on her face, the sort of bittersweet acknowledgement of their situation. It was difficult to know how to take all of it. He was still so hurt, still felt so abandoned, not just by her but by his mother and everyone who had promised to come back for him. But still he was infinitely grateful that she was here now, no matter how long it took. He reached up and wiped away the tears from her cheek with his thumb, smoothing over her soft skin with a sad smile. He hated to see her tears, but understood more than he wanted to admit.

“It would be wonderful,” Babyface smiled, fingers lingering there on her cheek. “Some things don’t change, no matter what else happened; I’ll always believe in you, Mona. I’ll... I’ll tell you what happened to me. Soon. I promise. But I don’t want to ruin tonight. This is the first time you’re back with me in years, I don’t want it to be a sad occasion.”

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

Before her, in her mind, a world of possibilities was slowly unfolding. What would have happened if she had never left? She would have become what her mother had been, she would have grown bitter. A girl without real form, like many of the courtesans at the Moulin Rouge. A china doll, a puppet, a toy that people could handle and play with at their leisure. No, leaving had been the right choice. She didn’t doubt that. But what would have happened if she had come back, like she had promised? Perhaps she would have been able to rescue him, to help him build a better life for himself. Would he have let her, though? Mona was starting to wonder whether the timing of her return mattered or not. Maybe Babyface’s destiny had been sealed the moment she had decided to run away. 

“Believe me, we wouldn’t have.”, she chuckled, but her tone wasn’t nearly as cheerful as before. “When I left my father bought me an apartment, with a governess and a housekeeper. Money came for me and then every month. I grew up alone, starving for affection. I took singing and acting lessons, I studied every single day, and I cried myself to sleep every night. I missed mama-” I missed you, I wrote you letters, she wanted to add - but it was pointless. “but I kept going because I knew one day all the pain was going to be worth it. And when it was, when I got the attention I wanted, I didn’t know how to handle it. I was conceited, and stupid.” Mona shook her head. “You wouldn’t have liked me back then. At all.” 

Truth be told, she wouldn’t have spared a glace towards him back then. Not with someone like Thèo around, manipulating her, worming his way inside her mind. It was definitely a blessing that they hadn’t met again during that time, as much as it pained her to admit it. 

Simone shrugged. “I don’t know if I can.” Another lie, but how on Earth could she tell him that her way back was sending him behind bars? “Too much happened. And maybe I don’t want to go back. Perhaps I don’t want that life anymore, have you thought about it?” She sighed, knowing very well that he was going to see right through the lie. “Being a courtesan is not that bad, you know? I’m having some trouble getting used to it but I’ve always loved dancing, and people seem to like me.”

Babyface let out a breath of laughter at her insistence, but the amusement left his face almost immediately as she went on, painting a picture of what life had been like for her out in the real world. She had been just as alone as he was, it sounded like, at least at first. It made him wish that maybe he had been strong enough to run, too. That when his mother had died, instead of being frightened and letting his father take over his life in her absence, that he would have run away from it all, and figured out who he could be outside of the Moulin. But he hadn’t, and so they had both been alone, they had both missed each other, even if they weren’t saying as much out loud. 

He listened to her talk about her past after she left with a frown on his face. She had found her dreams, she had managed to do some of the things that she had always dreamed of, but what was the cost of it all? Without even knowing exactly what had happened once she was where she had been dreaming of being for her whole life, he could tell that it hadn’t been what she was hoping for. Maybe they wouldn’t have liked each other back then. Maybe it was for the best that she hadn’t come back before, when she could’ve of her own free will instead of just out of a need. She had been an actress, famous and beautiful, someone adored outside of the confines of a place like the Moulin Rouge. And at that point he had been nothing more than a pitiful addict. Of course, she wouldn’t have liked him then, and he hated to admit he probably wouldn’t have liked her either.

“I wish I had been there for you,” Babyface said quietly, the frown still furrowing his brows. But this wasn’t then, this was now, and they were both different than they had been even months before they had met again. Maybe it was for the best that she hadn’t come back until now, because maybe he wouldn’t have been ready for her before his father was finally gone.

“Whatever happened, though, I don’t think you should give up just because it all feels like it went wrong. I can tell you still want it all, Mona. Maybe I can help you figure out a way to have it again,” he insisted, conviction creeping into his voice. “If you really do want to be a courtesan, then I know you’ll do well, but you of all people could be so much more than what our mothers were. You don’t have to settle.”

[babyfaceocleary]

theapollosaxe:

When he’d arrived at the Moulin Rouge – the first time – it wasn’t Babyface whose name was uttered when it came to scoring pills and powder. It was his father (or at least, his father’s goons). But the boy was a newer, fresher, friendlier face in this game – and Apollo liked to think this sort of re-branding was working wonders. (Wonders with business, and wonders with his pockets.) While he often had to worry of real consequences with Babyface’s senior, he didn’t take it to heart when he came up with payments a few days late, slipping and charming his way out of getting caught up – as he did with most instances that threatened the ease of his lifestyle.

But it still had to be said, Apollo liked the kid. Slick and sly in his own way, possessing a degree of charisma that reminded him of…himself. “Man, only the night can tell you what kind it is.” It had been only moments ago that the bandman had been basking in the youth in this night, how time was his for the taking and how he had every intention of utilizing every second. “You know–” he pipes up, a hand rubbing over his beard, in thought, before his gaze drops to his hands, admiring his ‘golden fingers’ as the boy had put it. (He liked that more than he’d say aloud. He’d be keeping that, for sure.) “I think I’m liking that second option. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with slowin’ it down every once in a while.” 

“Ah, a man after my own heart. Not enough people appreciate a little bit of slowness. Half the arseholes in this place could do with a night of enjoying every second dripping by, learn to appreciate the little details of it all instead of just go, go, go. I have just the thing,” he hums with a knowing nod. That was his own problem, after all. Maybe it would’ve been easier if he had been one of the people who needed to learn to slow down, but instead he had gone too slow, gotten too wrapped up in the languid beauty of the downers, the euphoria and relaxation.

Babyface reaches into the inside pocket of his suit coat, fingers curling around the little box, pausing for a moment. If daddy dearest could see him now, running his business without giving up what he had always been good at, hands on the product, doing the nitty gritty himself. That was the problem with the old man, after all, he thought he was too above it all. All business, no personal connection. He had thought that fear was the best thing to lead to long lasting need, but he was wrong. Maybe the problem was that he had never had that need. But Babyface knew intimately well what worked, the promise of fun, of freedom, of understanding, and his numbers compared to his father’s just proved it. It was still a business, though. “The thing about tonight is... I’m going to a promise you’re not going to be late on me, mate. You know I’ve got you, but soon enough I’ll be making exceptions for everyone, no matter if no one’s on the notorious Apollo’s level. People get ideas.”

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

“It isn’t easy, my darling. It never is. C’est la vie.” As she rested her forehead against his, her free hand moved to his cheek, thumb gently caressing his cheekbone. “But that’s not necessarily bad. Sometimes you have to bleed to know you’re alive, you know? That’s what happened to us, and still we’re here, and we found each other again. Don’t you think that’s a good sign?” 

Don’t you think that’s a happy ending?

It wasn’t. Not when she was forced to lie to him, even now, she knew pretty much everything about what he had become, and yet she had to pretend this was an innocent reunion. That had no resemblance to a happy ending. Princesses didn’t fool the princes in fantastic tales. They were supposed to wait for them to do the saving, not leave and never come back - only to finally return and build a castle of lies around them. No, Simone wasn’t the princess anymore. She wasn’t Andromeda, chained to a rock, waiting for Perseus to rescue her. She was Medusa, snakes instead of hair, dragging men to their doom. 

And yet she let herself believe in their closeness for a moment longer, closing her eyes as he did, staying silent, allowing herself to just exist next to him; to hear his slow breath close to her - so close that all she had to do was to lean slightly and catch his lips with hers. How would it feel to kiss him now? Would it be exhilarating, like it felt when they were teenagers? Or would she feel something else? She thought about doing it for a second, but then backed down, catching her bottom lip with her teeth. 

His next question only confirmed she had done the right thing. It was exactly what she dreaded. More lies, more excuses, she was just helping build the walls between them, and she could do nothing to stop it. “You just told me I wouldn’t have liked you before, well- you wouldn’t have liked me either. I got into trouble, Baby. I ruined my own dreams, just like I always do.” It wasn’t the full truth, but it wasn’t a lie either - and it was the best she could offer.

He let out a little breath of laughter at her words, although they weren’t funny. It was just all so hard to believe, even as she sat there forehead against his, thumb running over his cheek Part of him had the urge to say that if all of the pain he felt was what he needed to go through to know that he was still here, he wasn’t sure if it was worth it, but he stopped himself. That was just needlessly cruel when she was trying to help. But there wasn’t really a way for her to help unless she knew about everything that happened while she was gone, and he didn’t know if he wanted to tell her how low things had gotten. She was right, though, at least they were back together now, no matter what they had both been through, no matter how many promises had been broken. 

“Maybe it is a good sign,” he sighed, voice quiet. He wasn’t really sure he believed that, though. He was too much a ball of mixed feelings, unable to process any of it fast enough as it was happening to know what it all meant. It was going to take time to figure it out. But Mona had never been patient, who was to say she’d be patient with him now?

There was something there in the air between them as they stayed as they were, foreheads together, feeling a closeness they hadn’t had in years and years. It was strange how familiar but also completely different it felt now. It made him wish it was all easier, that she had never left in the first place, or that she had managed to make it back, to rescue him before things got as bad as they did. All they could do now was try to figure out what it meant.

Babyface pulled back nearly in time with her. He listened with a slight frown.  “Maybe we would’ve been alright then. I was bloody good at ruining things then, too. Hell, still probably am,” he said, with a little laugh. “You can still go back to all of that, though, you know. You don’t have to become what you never wanted to be. This is just...a detour. You made it out, you can make it out again.”

[babyfaceocleary]

charlotte-leigh:

For as long as she could remember, things had been this way between them. It wasn’t always about the drugs or the sex, but the company they provided each other with. Charlotte had never been given the chance to just be a girl, to simply spend time with someone else without being worried about judgment or money. All of time begins to slow down as his tongue teases across her lips and she laughs, leaning forward, wordlessly asking for more. “Can you do better than good? I’d certainly like to see,” she is only teasing, of course, as her fingers trace shapes along his neck. 

“A clear head?” She muses, slipping away to lay at his side, head resting in her palm, “and here I thought we would order some champagne and absinthe, dance and kiss our way into next week. What a shame.” Her words are meant to be a joke, although it does come as a slight disappointment. Part of her wishes she possessed his same restraint, the ability to say no when presented with such temptations, but she had never been that kind of girl. She knows only how to agree, how to let kisses fill the spaces she should fill with the word no. It doesn’t matter now though, not as his hands find her hips. “I quite like being your partner in crime, after all.” She smiles, and she means it. He gives her the kind of young, semi innocent fun she had always wanted to have.

Eagerly she waits for him to finish unbuttoning her costume, her fingers wrapping around his wrists. When he finishes, she wiggles out of the dress and kicks it aside. “Much better, non?” She smiles and leans her head back against the pillows. 

“Then maybe I can offer a demonstration,” he grins, just as wide as ever, fingers dancing along her waist. Babyface brings his lips to hers again, the kiss a little deeper, a little more driven by need. She tastes just as sweet as ever, and it’s just another reminder of the temptation that’s sitting right as his fingertips. It would be easy enough to give in, to find a little bit more of something, and indulge with her, to have the kind of night that turns into day and then night and then day again all without them noticing, too wrapped up in themselves. But he knows that he can’t give in like that. Tonight is just what he said, his indulgences would be her, and perhaps a few drinks to help with the intoxication Charlotte’s presence brought on its own. 

He pulls back from her lips, but doesn’t move from the spot, even as she moves to lie next to him instead. “Well,” he started, feigning seriousness––it’s easier that way, after all, to make it all a bit of teasing, a bit of a joke, like he acts like most things are––“Perhaps a bit of champagne and absinthe wouldn’t hurt. I do seem to be impervious to hangovers. But only if I can count on your arms around me and your lips finding their way over my skin.” Her smile is a real little thing, something that he get often but rarely sees others receiving around the Moulin. Just another reason to count himself lucky, that he was able to share such moments of true delight.

 As soon as the buttons are finished, she all but kicks the costume off, leaving one of his favorite sights right in front of him. “Much better,” he hums, his grin turning into something even more mischievous than usual. Now he doesn’t wait before pushing her back on the bed, and starting a trail of open-mouthed, messy kisses down her chest, down her stomach, fingers following.

[babyfaceocleary]

richelixus:

“I’m not your friend.” Kilian cut him off abruptly, frowning slightly. He wanted to make a deal, of course, but he wanted the other to realize this was strictly business. The boy mostly thought he could come and go, doing as he pleased because he had some drug to sell. He wasn’t naive enough to believe a lot of the girls probably threw themselves at him, no payment needed, just begging for him to indulge their vices. Kilian didn’t mind that sort of deal to be made in private, as long as Babyface understood there was someone watching now. Any slip up, and he would be done for. That’s why he needed to make it clear there was nothing friendly about this meeting. 

“Interesting.” He muttered, disapproval obvious in his face. 

“Listen, Babyface, this doesn’t have to take up much of our time.” Without even asking whether the boy in front of him wanted something to drink or not, he nodded his head towards one of the waitresses and she quickly brought two whisky glasses and an entire bottle at his disposal. It was a power move, obviously. Everything so far had been, everything in his life was. “You tell me what you want to do with this establishment, I tell you what I think about that. We reach an agreement, and you’re free to go drink, fuck, or whatever it is you kids do on your leisure time.”

The smile on his lips didn’t falter, even as the other man rejected his kindness. He merely shrugged, and let a slight laugh escape his lips. It was amusing just how much disapproval wafted off of Killian, as if that was going to dissuade him in the slightest. He had a business model of his own that had been working spectacularly, and he wasn’t planning to let some upper class arsehole who wanted to play at being in charge change things.

“If you ever want a chance to experience what us kids do on our leisure time, I’d be happy to show you,” he offered, raising an eyebrow, grin only growing. If that was the sort of game he wanted to play, then Babyface would have his fun, too. As soon as the bottle and glasses and put down, he reaches forward for the bottle and pours himself a drink. He shrugged as he took a sip, before going on. “Simple enough, I want things to stay the same. I’m not looking to make waves with this change in power. I’m doing what my da did, but better, that’s it,” he explained. “In fact, I think you have less to worry about with me. Unlike him, I’m not the violent type; I’m merely pushing freedom. Nothing sinister, also unlike a few other powers that enjoy hanging around this club.”

[babyfaceocleary]

adoubleentendre:

There was pleasure in kissing and being kissed, in wanting or rather in being wanted by someone she wanted to want her. It wasn’t wild and demanding, it wasn’t even full of expectation, because she’d been careful not add that element to it, but there was something to it and that was worth something. For Adelaide it was another component to why she played the part of Rose, why she wore another name, became another woman; she never wanted her husband, even as he wanted her again and again and again. But there was choice and delight in choosing to kiss him and choosing how to do so, in the fact that what she wanted mattered.

Still, wanting and being delighted in all of it, did nothing to change her lack of expectations. After all, the only expectations she could have had would have been disappointed in his response, because those expectations would have ended with a trip upstairs so that they both might forget.

Babyface didn’t want to forget, and so she backed off, slightly, without making much of a fuss about it and responded kindly. “Then I’m not sure what I can do for you.” A light smile followed, “Friend or otherwise, I think I tend to fall under the category of distraction. It’s what girls like me are good for.”

Maybe there was a part of him that was tired of running, tired of hiding from all the fears and worries, and that’s why he said that, why he insisted tonight wasn’t meant for distractions. Or maybe it was a strange masochism, knowing what thinking of it all did to him. Either way, he was tired, and he didn’t feel like playing pretend tonight, accepting the sort of distractions Rose could offer. But even just sitting with her was nice, talking to someone in a way that had a hint more honesty than usual felt close to comforting, no matter how much anxiety there was just under the surface.

Part of him had to wonder what she was looking to be distracted from. Beyond professional curiosity, somewhere along the way a hint of the personal had slipped in, and there was no denying that. Still, it wasn’t enough to entitle him to an answer so personal; the moment he could ask something like that and know even a bit of the truth was the moment he could have what he wanted from her in the first place.

But he had to ask something, anyway. “Hm, do you want to be a distraction, though? You don’t have to be a distraction if you don’t want to, you know. Or maybe you’re the one looking for a distraction, too?”

[richelixus]

@babyfaceocleary

Kilian was a lawyer. He knew that shady business was everywhere. Mafia, drugs, people, everything could be bought and sold according to the rules of supply and demand. But he was also aware of the consequences of said business, and that was why it was most important to have control over them. This was what this meeting was about. In the past, the drug dealing at the Moulin Rouge had been much less complicated, unified under one name. That was controllable, it was a fire that could be easily put in case of emergency.

It was different now. 

There were many names fighting for dominance, many men behind those names, and Kilian needed to control them all. Perhaps the first step in order to do that was to get to know them, to uncover their weaknesses and see who was replaceable and who was not. Babyface was the first one, whatever that name might be. It was mostly out of respect for his father that he had agreed to have this meeting, since he had always considered the boy rather disposable. But he couldn’t deny he had grown, enough to be a matter of importance. 

“I hope you enjoyed the show, babyface.” He started once they were located in his private booth near the stage. “Is that what you like to be called by your associates?”

[babyfaceocleary]

It wasn’t a secret that not everyone was particularly happy that he had taken over his father’s business. There were plenty of those who wished that no one had taken over, and that all that the old prick had controlled had fallen into other hands. But he wasn’t in the business of doing what others wanted him to, anyway. Still, there were deals that had to be made to keep things in order, and whatever whispered alliances he had already struck with Lysander, there was the problem of less understanding forces. A necessary evil to face to keep things smooth.

And Killian was one of the necessary evils he least wanted to deal with.

“I always enjoy the show, my friend,” he smiled, settling into the booth. He would have much rather they did business in his own private booth, but he understood the move; meant to show power, to intimidate, to tell him that they were on his turf, not Babyface’s. Funny, how he thought that was true, as if the Moulin hadn’t been his family’s turf since long before the snake had slithered in with his not so special money, and his even less special lust. An entitled rich man child who had never been told no in his life, and wasn’t going to start hearing it now. The smile didn’t say that, though, the smile was just as charming as ever.

“Babyface is my name. ‘S not just what I like to be called, it’s what I am called, by friends and associates alike,” he shrugged, the grin on his lips never wavering, despite just how slimy the other was.

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

It was so difficult to keep quiet. It pained her not to be able to tell him she also had scars, perhaps not physical ones, but that they also bled from time to time. That during many nights, when loneliness seemed to suffocate her, she had thought of him, of what he could be doing, of his laughter, his smile; that she had wondered if he was happy; that that thought alone had been able to ease her own sadness. But how could she tell him that when she had hurt him so? And most importantly, when all she had to offer now were lies. What was she supposed to do? She was stuck between how much he meant to her and how badly she wanted her freedom. “William-”, she insisted with his name, because she needed him to listen. “they will only hold you back if you give them the power to. You need to take them as what they are. Scars. They shaped you, yes, and you can’t take them back, but they are not who you are now. And no matter what you did, who you were back then, I’m always going to be your Mona.”

This was not exactly how she had imagined their reunion was going to go. Even after Inspector Bachelet had instructed to get close to him to get valuable information, she hadn’t been able to help fantasising about it. She would smile and run to his arms, he would hug her and tell her he had thought about her every single day after she left, that he had never forgotten about the secrets they told each other, she sneaky kisses they had shared as teenagers. She was now realising she had spoiled her own fantastic tale. There were consequences she hadn’t foreseen when she had left everyone behind, and this was the prize. 

Baby wasn’t a knight ever willing to save her, running to her on a winged white horse. He had become someone else, someone who wasn’t sure she was worthy of trust. 

And he was right. She wasn’t. 

His words, however, brought an immediate smile to her face. Without really thinking about it, she leaned forward to rest her forehead against his. When he took her hand in his, she entwined their fingers, thumb moving up and down his skin. “It means that we’re together. It means that no matter what happens, we will never feel alone again, just like when we were children.”, she sighed, and the next words she said were surprising, not because of what they meant, but because it wasn’t until now that she was realising how true they were. “I’m happy to be back too.”

This time he didn’t correct her when she called him William, no matter how much it hurt to be reminded of all of the pain. Those words had been said to him before, they were probably true, he was the one giving all of the memories power over him, but still he couldn’t help but feel like he had no choice. So much of his life had been defined by his father. Hell, even now, where he sat, had been given to him because of his father in the end. How was it possible not to let them hold him back, how could he not be defined by every mistake, every word? “I wish it was so easy,” he frowned. Maybe now that she was back, though, it might be a little easier. Or maybe it would be harder, Mona a constant reminder of the past, of his own failures as well as everyone else’s.

Her smile made him smile, though, just as it was always able to.

He wanted to believe it, that it meant that now they would never be alone again, but it was hard to think that was true, after the promises that had been broken. But he let himself have that little bit of hope, let himself think that maybe it could be possible, because here she was anyway, even after he had given up on most everything. He was clean, he was building his own empire, and she had come back. Maybe the impossible was possible. Or maybe it was okay to believe a part of that in this moment, as her fingers wrapped over his, leaning forward to press her forehead to his.

“Just like when we were kids,” he muttered, letting his eyes close for a minute, savoring the closeness that he had missed for so long. 

It was a surprise to hear that she was happy to be back; all their lives they had both dreamed of nothing more than leaving, of escaping the lives their parents set up for them, and she had managed it. And here she was again. What was it that had driven her back? Mona wasn’t the type to give up on dreams so easily. He pulled back from her, but kept his hand in hers.

“I’m glad that you’re happy. Why did you come back, though? From what I’ve heard, all of your dreams were coming true out there in the real world, you could’ve kept going,” Babyface said, genuinely curious. If he had been in her place, he would’ve never come back.

[babyfaceocleary]

nettyfawn:

“Shut up, you can’t tell anyone,” Annette hisses, propping herself up onto her elbows as Will springs up from their comfortable position, her hand reaching out to swat the nearest part of him that she could reach. “If anyone finds out that I’m not a virgin when I was advertised and promised to be –” her words stop short, and she almost blushes as she chews the inside of her cheek. Well, she’d be ruined if anyone of importance who knew how to use a rumor effectively got a hold of the information. Not only that, but it would reflect poorly on the club as well. Half of the job of being a desired courtesan was having a good control of your reputation – she’d never recover if she was branded a fraud from off the bat. “Well, you know what would happen.”

She rolls her eyes at his words, his excuses and the way he bends the facts to work towards his advantage. By all logic, he does have a point – but she doubts that Marcel would ever see things in the same way. 

“God, as if I would have ever given it up to you, you absolute toad,” she scowls at him, reaching out to swat at him again before snatching the bottle of scotch from his hand once more and taking another drink. “It was Sterling, actually, but you can’t be running your mouth about it – it’s bad enough that I told Charlotte, I shouldn’t have even done that.”

He waves her comment off with a hand, as if the mere suggestion that he would tell anyone was ridiculous, which in his mind it was. Considering his business, he did enjoy rumors and secrets, but he wasn’t the sort to pass them off to anyone he ran into, especially the secrets of his friends. No, her secret is safer with him that it would be with most people, and certainly all of the others in the Moulin Rouge given how much most of them seem to revel in everyone else’s business. “Secret’s safe, love. I’m not softening all of those fuckers’ boners. Let them think they’re after a virgin, no harm in it,” he says, putting a hand over his heart in promise.

There’s barely a chance for sincerity, though, as she goes on, snatching the scotch from him and dropping the bomb so easily all at once. “Sterling. I was going to fuck him once, but he wanted me to pay actual money. Wouldn’t even consider any of my wares,” he shakes his head, before getting back to the matter at hand. “Honestly we should’ve expected it. I mean, I don’t know how you went so long with that at your disposal not fucking in the first place. It’s a good thing that it finally happened. Not only was it probably better than what the old bastards bidding on you can give, but also now it’s out of your system and you can forget about the prick.”

When he hears Charlotte mentioned, though, any semblance of calm evaporates again. “Charlotte? Good lord, Netty, and you’re worried about me spilling the beans. I love that harlot with my whole heart, but she’s got a big fuckin’ mouth, in more ways than one. She’s probably told everyone she’s seen already. I may be a toad, but I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

Simone shook her head, her hands moving from his face to his shoulders. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you understand? I would have liked you regardless of who you were, and what you did. Willian, Baby, whatever you call yourself. I would have liked you then, and I always will. Whatever happened that made you despise your name, you can’t erase it just like that. That’s not how it works. Marks, scars, they’re painful, but they’re the reason we are who we are now - you can’t just make William disappear, he will never disappear in my eyes.” 

She didn’t even understand why she was pushing so hard. It was a name, one he was free to choose. It shouldn’t make her this upset the way he rejected it; but somehow it felt like he was rejecting her instead, and everything about their past together - as if he was trying to erase everything they had went through just because she hadn’t been there for the rest of it, because she had decided to abandon him and never come back. Maybe she deserved it, perhaps this was what happened when one moved through life like a salt water wave, without thinking of the people left behind. 

Baby insisted that she was still her best friend, that things hadn’t changed between them after all these years - but they had. There were too many secrets between them, too many things they weren’t saying. The trust that they had had once upon a time we weakened, perhaps broken, and Simone didn’t know how to fix that. 

“Fine by me. I don’t need anything.” She crossed her arms as he moved away the champagne glass. A childish fight, resemblance to what they once were. And then he said it - ask me whatever you want to know. Inspector Bachelet’s face flashed through her mind. This was her chance. She could easily show interest in his business, tell him she was curious; she wouldn’t suspect her, it was the perfect excuse. Yet, the next words just slipped out of her as if her mouth was being controlled but forces she wasn’t aware of. “What makes you happy? Truly happy.”

Her hands on his shoulders were grounding, but her words weren’t something that he wanted to think about. He didn’t like the idea of giving that part of the past power over him, of letting that be the reason he was the way he was, no matter how true. He wanted nothing more than to leave that part of the past behind, and build something new now that he was free. She might’ve thought that she would’ve liked him then, but she didn’t know, yet, the full depth of what had happened before she had reappeared. “I don’t know, Mona, some scars are too painful, some scars just hold you back, but maybe you’re right... there’s no way I can get rid of it all, no matter how hard I try,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly.

It wasn’t the question he was expecting from her. He was expecting her to ask what had happened, why he was there where his dad used to be, what had she missed while she was gone. But leave it to Mona to always keep him on his toes. It was just another reminder that no matter what else changed, some things stayed the same. The problem was he didn’t know how to answer the question. What did make him truly happy? Was it the power that he held, the new position he was in? Was it the freedom he had given himself, and gave to others? No. At the moment he only had one answer for the question, and he was staring right at it. He was silent for a second before finally looking back at her and answering.

“The fact that you can back, no matter how long it took. That makes me truly happy, even if we’re still figuring out what it means for us,” he said softly, voice full of a sincerity that was reserved only for those he trusted. He hoped that she would realize that his words were genuine, not meant to try to play a part, or be anything but exactly who he was.

No matter what had happened, how upset he was that she hadn’t come back until now, she was here. And that was more than he had expected after waiting so long, and it was impossible not to feel that joy, knowing that he had one of the people who meant the most to him back. He took one of her hands in his own gently, hoping she wouldn’t pull away.

[babyfaceocleary]

agracefulmasquerade:

It hadn’t been the patron’s fault. They couldn’t have known that what they’d likely meant to be an enthusiastic gesture had read as threatening to her. She’d controlled her reaction, but it had shaken her enough that she’d recused herself from the conversation once Charlotte had flitted by and caught the gentleman’s attention, slipping back towards the wall, hoping for a moment to collect herself. It was foolish, really. She was fine, she reminded herself firmly, her inner reassurances starting to sound more and more berating. She wouldn’t be able to do this if she let that sort of reaction hold her back. She’d give herself this one time, and then next time, she’d make herself not react. It wasn’t like she was in any real danger, so the entire reaction was foolish.

It was in the middle of this that another man approached her. For a moment she wanted to say no, make some excuse so that she could have more time to force herself back to normal, but his gentle tone made her pause. “Of course,” she said, a soft smile on her lips. “Thank you, monsieur.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do, to approach her in an obvious moment of private distress, but it was impossible not to. He could see himself in that moment, he knew what it was like, to have those small gestures mean so much in a way that few others would understand. It wasn’t something that went away, he still felt it at times, and he knew what it was like to want to run and hide. Maybe part of the reason he felt the need to approach her was because in those moments he felt utterly alone, but she didn’t have to. He could offer something to her that he had never received.

For whatever panic she was feeling, he had to hand it to her that she was skilled at hiding it; her smile was soft and beautiful and seemed to be real. Babyface smiled back, and nodded, offering his arm for her to take to lead her to his private booth. “What a lovely smile, I think I’d remember such radiance. We haven’t met, have we, love?” he asked.

[babyfaceocleary]

charlotte-leigh: 

She can’t help but laugh when she hears him doing the same. Over her years of working in the Moulin Rouge, there had been few people that she found herself having so much fun with. Maybe it was nerves or excitement or both, but when she was with him, it almost felt real; like they were friends. The idea itself was unfamiliar, but it isn’t unpleasant. “Oh yes, well,” she begins, flipping her hair over to cover his face as she laughs, “I’ve heard she favors handsome young men who come bearing gifts, and even more so when they’re good kissers.” She brings her finger to tap the tip of his nose, dragging her fingers down to brush his lips before they find his neck. 

“You won’t be joining me?” She does not plan on pushing any further, but a cocked eyebrow and narrowed green eyes ask for her. The amount of times only one of them imbibed around the other could probably be counted on one hand. However, she concedes that it probably isn’t any of her business – although she makes a note to bring it up later and blame it on the drugs. “But you will stay, won’t you? Someone has to take care of little old me, after all.” Aside from a select few people, it was rare that she asked anyone to stay over. Babyface had never given her a reason not to trust him, but he had given her plenty of reasons to ask him to stick around. Most of her memories of their time together are cloudy, but she knows she enjoyed them, of course.

Ever obedient, Charlotte follows his instructions and pulls him closer until their lips meet. His kisses are licorice sweet like the absinthe they had shared in the main room downstairs, and hungry like he is searching for more. She brings her legs to wrap around his hips to pull him into her, never able to get close enough. “So, taste,” she smiles against his lips for a moment before she pauses, “you know, this costume is so uncomfortable. Why don’t you help me out of it?”

Her hair tickles his face, and he lets her have her fun, unable to stop laughing as she goes on. That’s how it is with them, and it’s something that means more to him than he’d ever admit out loud. The chance to just be young, to laugh and joke around without any ulterior motives. Even before the fire, before his father’s disappearance, being around Charlotte was a little different than indulging in such delicacies with other people. There was a mutual trust there, an understanding that went deeper than just the desire for the wild. With so many people who only wanted him around for what he could offer––and him doing the same with so many people, too––it’s always a pleasant surprise to have something genuine. And the time he spent with her had more of that than most.

“A good kisser? Maybe I can do a little better than good,” he smirked as her fingers trail over lips, down to his neck. Babyface leans forward, lips brushing over hers, tongue moving to tease, almost kissing, before leaning back again on his elbows, grinning up at her. Luckily, it’s easy enough to give half truths, although he’s not sure why he’s so afraid of telling Charlotte the full reasoning behind his choice. “I’ve got to keep a clear head for tomorrow, love, but I wouldn’t dream of leaving you. Do you think I’d abandon my partner in crime? Never.” That’s true, at least, he wouldn’t leave a friend alone after tempting them to indulge. And he wanted to stay with Charlotte, to have a night to fun, without worries. Maybe a part of it is living vicariously through her, too, but that’s neither here nor there.

Finally lips meet lips and he spills into the kiss as he presses forward, already hungry for more. Isn’t he always? Hands move to her hips as she wraps her legs around his hips, bodies already tangled close. She tells him to taste and he does, tongue tasting the shared alcohol on her lips, the remnants of the bitter plant, and it feels a little like he’s had what she has. When she pauses, his grin only grows. “Mm, with pleasure,” he mutters before hands find the buttons of her costume, quickly going to work, needing to feel skin against skin.

[babyfaceocleary]

sereiamona:

And just like that, her carefully crafted mask of happiness and excitement was broken. Of course he resented her. Ever since they were children they had known everything about each other; every suffering, every misery, every painful moment, they had run to each other to share. They had become extensions of one another, always having each other’s backs. Simone knew how bad things were for him when she had left; how scared he had been. She had been afraid as well, terrified that he was going to become the only thing he was fighting so hard against - and it looked like her nightmares had come true. Yet, she hadn’t come back for him like she had promised. What did that say about her? Could she truly blame him for not trusting her? Was he really at fault for building walls between them, when she had been the one to betray him first? 

She didn’t have the right to be angry; but she was. 

His words hit harder than she could have imagined. In that moment she forgot everything about the information she was supposed to be getting out of him, about the mission she was on. She wanted her friend back, and he was slipping through her fingers like cascading water. 

“Don’t say that.”, she said, her voice losing all playfulness. “It’s still your name, I don’t care if you don’t want to use it. You’re William, and I’m Simone, your Simone. Yes, we’ve changed, everything has changed around us, and I know I came back too late, but you said it yourself - there’s no escaping it now. You will always be William to me. My best friend, the one I’ve missed all these years. And you better get used to it, because I don’t want to live in a world without him.”

Mona pursed her lips, trying to calm herself, to listen to what he had to say for once. “All right. Let it be a new beginning, then. But I don’t want any offerings from you. I just want you, without the champagne, and the showing off, and the waiters treating you as if you were some sort of king of the land.”, she crossed her arms, avoiding his gaze now. “If this is who you are now, then I’m not sure I know you that much anymore.”

“You should care that I don’t want to use it,” Babyface said, voice a little more forceful on this. “William isn’t the same anymore, Mona. Too much happened, and I don’t want to be William anymore. William is who I was when I was at my lowest of lows. I’m still your best friend, and I’m still here, but I promise that you don’t want William anymore; you wouldn’t have liked who I was when I was still William.”

If this reunion had happened six months ago, if she had reappeared, hugging and kissing him, and then almost immediately turning and telling him what he better get used to, he would’ve lashed out. It would’ve been anger and screaming, it would’ve been a week long bender to try to forget about everything he felt, forget about how she had been the one who left, not him. It would’ve been whatever past they were both still holding onto ripped apart into a million pieces in a matter of minutes.

But it wasn’t six months ago, and his anger had been replaced with so many other things. Now it was all calmer, it was side-eyes and folded hands, moody silences and the creeping anxiety at the back of his neck. And he could feel all of that as she went on, insisting that he was still who he was before he had accepted Babyface.

How could he still be something that had died when his father hurt him for the last time?

“Fine, then. I won’t offer anything to you,” he shrugged, before reaching up and taking the champagne glass from in front of her and setting it next to his. It was a childish thing to do, but it was easy to fall into with Mona. The last time they had seen each other, they had still basically been children, after all, no matter how much they played at being adults. Part of it was teasing, but she was in such a mood already he doubted it would come off that way. “I can’t stop people from treating me how they do now, though. Like I said, things have changed. To some people I am a king of the land... maybe you don’t know me as much anymore. So maybe we should fix that. Ask me whatever you want to know.”

[babyfaceocleary]

esmeledard:

She doesn’t dare to move, watching him navigate through whatever it was that currently clouded his mind without uttering a sound. She wonders if the other girls would slide silkily onto his lap, offer him comfort and hushed coos until that wide-eyed look was replaced with the previous smirk that had sat so easily on his lips. There’s something raw about the apology he offers, heavy with a genuine sense of guilt. Had Esme cared, she may have found it humbling. Instead, she reaches out to take hold of his chin between thumb and finger, forcing his gaze to meet her own. She’s not here to dwell on emotions, she’s here for information. “Then do not let him haunt you, bébé. Whoever this man was, you are letting him win by keeping him locked in here.” She removes her grip in favour of placing a fingertip to the centre of his forehead, hesitating before adding, “And perhaps even in here.” A flat palm is pressed to his chest, warm over the patch where she supposes his heart may have been if she thought that he had one. But monsters never did. “You must let him out. Release him. Purge him from your life.” Esme shifts in her seat and leans closer until she can feel his breath on her face, until she’s near enough to lick the taste of alcohol from the corner of his mouth. “Let me swallow his name for you so that you never have to utter it again.”

Babyface’s offer takes her by surprise – no feat easily achieved. She blinks; thinks about the value of having a man like him acting on the things she whispers into his ears. To catch a criminal using another would certainly make for a pretty tale to be shared with the rest of the brigade des mœurs. Esme turns her hand in his, lets her fingers slide through his own and half-lies fall from her mouth. “You may regret that offer. I do not know the man by name. Before I came to this place I worked in brothels where secrecy is as important as the sex. But I know who it was he affiliated himself with.” She takes a small breath, tries to calm the excited racing of her heart as she continues to spin her web around him. “What do you know of the mafia in this city?”

Her fingers on his chin help still his thoughts, his heart beat slowing a little, making him feel less like running. The guilt is still there, though, for even the suggestion that he might be like his father was. The frown on his face only deepens at her words. Only speaking for a few minutes and somehow she’s got him pinned down at his core. The paranoia that he might come back, the even more constant paranoia that he might turn into everything he hates, everything that hurt him in the first place, it’s holding him back. Nightmares full of cold blue eyes and sharp smiles just confirm it. She leans closer and if it was a different time, a different courtesan, he would’ve closed the space between them, taken her distraction, allowed her to do just as she said. Her words are probably just meant to soothe, but there’s been too much truth for him to fall so easily back into what he should be. “It’s a nice thought, letting him go, swallowing his name. But I don’t know if it’s possible to purge him from my life when I’m sitting exactly where he was,” Babyface says finally, more matter of fact, despite the frown on his face.

Her fingers tangle with his own, and she’s right, he does regret the offer, although he feels guilty for that, too. The mafia. He should have known. The paranoia makes him wonder if this was just a charade, if she had other business with the mafia, or perhaps she was trying to start some sort of war by playing on his sympathies. The gentle fingers on his scar, showing her own, perhaps she knew more than she let on, had known about his past with his father, knew he wouldn’t be able to leave someone at the mercy of bad, bad men such as him. Or maybe it’s the truth, and no more than that. “I know enough to know that there are plenty of bad men like that among their ranks,” he says slowly. “I’m afraid if the man is involved with them, it may be more difficult, though not impossible. I have friends in high places, but...we’re all wont to protect our own, aren’t we?”