These Are the Days
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Moulin Rouge, it all belongs to Baz. Duh.
Author's Note: I've been wanting to do a modern day MR fic for a while, in fact I have several ideas for it. This is the first simply because I had the most ideas for it. It's a modern day MR fic taking place at a public high school. Christian's a drama geek, Satine's a cheerleader dating the football captain, Michael Duke. Chaos ensues.
By the way, I'm having an awful time with the lisp, so please forgive me... I'm trying. I tried it without the lisp, but I just love Toulouse's lisp so I couldn't... so... bear with me, please. Also, for those English geeks of you out there (I'm one too, so no offense meant) any fragments used in this story are for effect. They're supposed to be there. Just thought I'd mention that. Read on, citizens.
* * *
Chapter One: Of Jocks and Geeks
Christian McDeere parked his beat-up blue convertible bug in the parking lot of Montmartre Memorial High School. He stared at the building in near agony. It was huge- at least three times the size of his old high school. For a moment, he almost wished he hadn't decided to move out after all...
When he turned seventeen, he had gotten a letter from his Uncle Harold offering him a job working at his night club if he came to live with them. Eager to get away from his overbearing parents, he had accepted with barely any thought of the consequences. He was realizing them now.
All that he had known was now miles away. The high school he had attended for three years, his friends... he even missed his parents, as much as he hated to admit it. He tried to convince himself that working for Uncle Harold would be great. He would meet new friends, have fun... yeah, right. Who was he kidding?
He swung his bookbag up on his shoulder, slammed his car door, and headed inside. He might as well make the best of it.
* * *
The first sound Chris heard when he stepped inside the door was that of a person with a horrifyingly bad lisp. "Scheduels! Evweone take one, pwease." Chris looked to see who the person was, and almost missed him.
He was a very short person, almost a midget, with an unruly shock of black hair and thick glasses set awry on his rounded nose. But his height and glasses wasn't the worst part. He was wearing tan corduroy pants that were too short (despite his already small height) with a black dress shirt tucked tightly in. In the pocket of the shirt was a comb (though Christ didn't see as it got much use), two pencils, a pen, and a small pad of paper. The outfit was completed by a pair of dark brown suspenders.
"Wow, what a-" Chris didn't get to finish his train of thought. Someone else finished it out loud.
"Geek!" A group of jocks was going by and the leader, a tall suave blonde in a letterman jacket, had stepped aside to shove the kid with the lisp. The aforementioned geek fell quite ungracefully to the floor, the papers he was holding scattering everywhere.
The blonde rejoined his friends, all of them laughing loudly. The kid was now scrambling to gather his papers, mumbling to himself, "Oh dea', of dea'."
That's when Chris decided to do something. He helped. He set down his backpack, knelt beside the midget kid and began to pick up the schedules with him. "Here, let me help." He didn't notice the stunning redhead watching him from across the hall.
The kid looked surprised. "Th-thank you." Once all the papers were in some semblance of order, they stood. The geek brushed himself off and extended a hand. "How do you do? My name is Henry Raymond Toulouse, the thecond. Call me Henry."
Chris tried not to smile. "And I'm Christian McDeere. Call me Chris." They shook.
"Nithe to meet you, Cwis." He pulled a paper from the pile he held. "Scheduel?"
"Thanks."
"You're new, aren't you?" He nodded in the affirmative. "Thenior?" Another nod. "Me too. That means we'll be gwaduating together!"
This time, Chris did smile at the midget's exuberance. "That's right." He glanced at his schedule as the first bell rang. "Gotta go, Henry. Talk to you later."
"Bye, Cwis!" The miniature senior walked off, and Christian realized for the first time that his height and lisp weren't his only problems. He also had a permanent limp. Chris' heart ached at ever wanting to call Henry a geek.
He felt a touch on his shoulder and turned to see the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She had long, almost waist-length wavy red hair, a perfect complexion, rosy cheeks, ruby-red lips, and sea-green eyes that sparkled when he looked into them. Not to mention her perfect figure.
For a moment, Chris stopped breathing. Then she spoke. "That was sweet." Her voice was like an angel's.
"W-what?"
She smiled, flashing pearly-white teeth. Could she be any more perfect? "What you did for Henry. They're so mean to him sometimes. I know he appreciates what you did. He doesn't have many friends, you know."
He swallowed, hard. This perfect girl was telling him how nice he was... what do you say to that? He had to say something. Something suave, sweet, charming... "Th-thank you." Great, he sounded like Henry. The next thing he knew, he'd be lisping.
He was graced with another perfect smile before she turned away, her short cheerleader skirt flouncing around her long, thin legs as she walked. Chris sunk against the wall. He was in love.
The second bell rang and he sighed. He was also now late. He forced his shaky legs into submission and sprinted towards his class, glancing at the schedule. Calculus. Great. Just great.
END CHAPTER ONE
Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Good, bad, ugly? Should I keep going? Let me know, kay? (Hint: That means review this.) Thanks!
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Moulin Rouge, it all belongs to Baz. Duh.
Author's Note: I've been wanting to do a modern day MR fic for a while, in fact I have several ideas for it. This is the first simply because I had the most ideas for it. It's a modern day MR fic taking place at a public high school. Christian's a drama geek, Satine's a cheerleader dating the football captain, Michael Duke. Chaos ensues.
By the way, I'm having an awful time with the lisp, so please forgive me... I'm trying. I tried it without the lisp, but I just love Toulouse's lisp so I couldn't... so... bear with me, please. Also, for those English geeks of you out there (I'm one too, so no offense meant) any fragments used in this story are for effect. They're supposed to be there. Just thought I'd mention that. Read on, citizens.
* * *
Chapter One: Of Jocks and Geeks
Christian McDeere parked his beat-up blue convertible bug in the parking lot of Montmartre Memorial High School. He stared at the building in near agony. It was huge- at least three times the size of his old high school. For a moment, he almost wished he hadn't decided to move out after all...
When he turned seventeen, he had gotten a letter from his Uncle Harold offering him a job working at his night club if he came to live with them. Eager to get away from his overbearing parents, he had accepted with barely any thought of the consequences. He was realizing them now.
All that he had known was now miles away. The high school he had attended for three years, his friends... he even missed his parents, as much as he hated to admit it. He tried to convince himself that working for Uncle Harold would be great. He would meet new friends, have fun... yeah, right. Who was he kidding?
He swung his bookbag up on his shoulder, slammed his car door, and headed inside. He might as well make the best of it.
* * *
The first sound Chris heard when he stepped inside the door was that of a person with a horrifyingly bad lisp. "Scheduels! Evweone take one, pwease." Chris looked to see who the person was, and almost missed him.
He was a very short person, almost a midget, with an unruly shock of black hair and thick glasses set awry on his rounded nose. But his height and glasses wasn't the worst part. He was wearing tan corduroy pants that were too short (despite his already small height) with a black dress shirt tucked tightly in. In the pocket of the shirt was a comb (though Christ didn't see as it got much use), two pencils, a pen, and a small pad of paper. The outfit was completed by a pair of dark brown suspenders.
"Wow, what a-" Chris didn't get to finish his train of thought. Someone else finished it out loud.
"Geek!" A group of jocks was going by and the leader, a tall suave blonde in a letterman jacket, had stepped aside to shove the kid with the lisp. The aforementioned geek fell quite ungracefully to the floor, the papers he was holding scattering everywhere.
The blonde rejoined his friends, all of them laughing loudly. The kid was now scrambling to gather his papers, mumbling to himself, "Oh dea', of dea'."
That's when Chris decided to do something. He helped. He set down his backpack, knelt beside the midget kid and began to pick up the schedules with him. "Here, let me help." He didn't notice the stunning redhead watching him from across the hall.
The kid looked surprised. "Th-thank you." Once all the papers were in some semblance of order, they stood. The geek brushed himself off and extended a hand. "How do you do? My name is Henry Raymond Toulouse, the thecond. Call me Henry."
Chris tried not to smile. "And I'm Christian McDeere. Call me Chris." They shook.
"Nithe to meet you, Cwis." He pulled a paper from the pile he held. "Scheduel?"
"Thanks."
"You're new, aren't you?" He nodded in the affirmative. "Thenior?" Another nod. "Me too. That means we'll be gwaduating together!"
This time, Chris did smile at the midget's exuberance. "That's right." He glanced at his schedule as the first bell rang. "Gotta go, Henry. Talk to you later."
"Bye, Cwis!" The miniature senior walked off, and Christian realized for the first time that his height and lisp weren't his only problems. He also had a permanent limp. Chris' heart ached at ever wanting to call Henry a geek.
He felt a touch on his shoulder and turned to see the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She had long, almost waist-length wavy red hair, a perfect complexion, rosy cheeks, ruby-red lips, and sea-green eyes that sparkled when he looked into them. Not to mention her perfect figure.
For a moment, Chris stopped breathing. Then she spoke. "That was sweet." Her voice was like an angel's.
"W-what?"
She smiled, flashing pearly-white teeth. Could she be any more perfect? "What you did for Henry. They're so mean to him sometimes. I know he appreciates what you did. He doesn't have many friends, you know."
He swallowed, hard. This perfect girl was telling him how nice he was... what do you say to that? He had to say something. Something suave, sweet, charming... "Th-thank you." Great, he sounded like Henry. The next thing he knew, he'd be lisping.
He was graced with another perfect smile before she turned away, her short cheerleader skirt flouncing around her long, thin legs as she walked. Chris sunk against the wall. He was in love.
The second bell rang and he sighed. He was also now late. He forced his shaky legs into submission and sprinted towards his class, glancing at the schedule. Calculus. Great. Just great.
END CHAPTER ONE
Author's Note: Well, what do you think? Good, bad, ugly? Should I keep going? Let me know, kay? (Hint: That means review this.) Thanks!