the last thing that satine remembered was the feeling of her lungs constricting in her chest. the last thing she remembered was her heart trying to pound out of her chest as she tried desperately to drag the oxygen into her lungs. she remembered the sensation like no other, the sensation of falling into unconsciousness. when she awoke, though, it was not in the moulin rouge. she was lying in a hallway. disguised panic began to bloom in her chest as she slowly took hold of her surroundings. yes, she was positive this was a place she had never been before, never seen before. over the course of the next few days, satine began to familiarize herself with the society she had been dropped into. it still took her by surprise when she woke up to find no marie, no harold, no toulouse, and the worst of all? no christian. today, her goal was to explore the other houses. they seemed to be open to all visitors and if she ended up spending a night or two in one of these houses, well, she needed to know how to get around.
she easily passed door by door until a certain sound made her stop. no — not a sound, a voice. it was a voice that could bring her back from the dead if it so begged. a voice that she could not forget even if every memory was wiped from her brain. but it couldn’t be. he couldn’t be here. what were the odds of it being possible when the odds were always stacked against her? heels click quickly across the wooden floor and her hand lands on the knob. as quietly as she can, as to not disturb him, she pushes open the door. relief pours over her as his song washes around her, one that she’s never heard before. she cannot begin to describe how wonderful it felt to hear his voice, how wonderful it felt to see him sitting at a piano. it felt like years since she’d seen him last. her face cracks into a smile that is reserved just for him. she waits for a moment when it seems the piano quiets to speak. “ christian, ” she breathes, but she knows that it’s just loud enough for him to hear. “ i’ve missed you. ”
❛ --- LOOOOORD --- somebody. somebody. somebody. somebody. CAN ANYBODY FIND ME --- somebody to love. ❜ fingers delicately press to keys as he lets himself go, voice sending echoes through ought the room, in the only safe way he knows how. ever since her death song had been so difficult but when he achieves it ------ OH how it was a weight off his chest. he feels like he can breathe again & he only slightly needs the bottle of jack perched in reach on top the piano. this isn’t when he wants numbness or when he wants to forget. this is when he wants to let go of all the words in his chest. when things were like this . . . for moment it feels like --- like she was still there. like he can forget she ever left. song, it seems, is his very last connection to her.
his eyes close as he lets music flow through him during the song. his eyes close, then open to the keys of the piano, then look up to the ceiling only to fall shut again. his surroundings hardly even exist when he’s like this. it’s an entirely different world when he sings. one where anything can happen. when he can jump out the window & dance atop clouds --- one where he can reach out his hand & dance with her. it’s where he could hold her again.
as his song comes to a close he listens to the sound of it drain from the room to complete silence before opening his eyes to see his hands resting over the keys. he’s smiling, just some, but after a moment it falls as he realizes his trip to another world has ended. he’s back here now --- back to where the stars shine dimmer & his heart is still broken. his head jerks up at his name though --- & that’s when he thinks that, maybe, he’s not quite as out of that world as he thought he was because ------ ❛ satine. ❜ his heart, he’s quite sure, stops for a full ten seconds. this can’t be real. it had been a long time since he suffered hallucinations of her & when they used to come he was so plastered he could barely stand. he looks to the bottle on the piano, just to make sure it was just over halfway full, before looking back to her. a deep breath fills him then releases as he shakes his head. ❛ i --- i -- i’m hallucinating. s -- something in my drink. ❜ he can already feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes. his voice is cracking. he hates hallucinations.
