Chapter Text
There’s a soft knock on Satine’s dressing room door. This is silly because it’s been left open and besides, it’s far too early to be changing into her costume. But when Satine looks up from the piece of tape she’s been wrestling with and sees who is standing there, the unnecessary knock makes a bit more sense.
“Do you mind if I come in?” Christian asks, hesitating just outside the doorframe.
“The door’s open,” Satine remarks, returning to her task of transferring a particularly stubborn piece of tape from her fingers to where it belongs: on the back of the photos she’s brought to hang on her dressing room walls.
“That didn’t answer my question,” Christian says, not irritated nor superiorly lecturing as Satine’s boyfriend Andre might have been, and not teasing nor being a smartass like she might have gotten from her understudy Nini. From Christian, this is just a simple statement of fact.
Satine shrugs, slightly distracted. “If you’d like to.” She accomplishes her task, tearing off another piece of tape to begin the process once more. This tape is exceptionally bad at its job—attaching to everything except for what it’s supposed to—and Satine fights the urge to curse, aware she has an audience, certain Christian is studying her profile.
“I asked what you would like,” Christian says softly.
Satine feels her face heat and imagines her cheeks have turned pink. Trying to save face and distract Christian before he notices, she glances back at him with a raised eyebrow. The toe of his shoe hasn’t even crossed the threshold yet, waiting on her permission. “What are you—a vampire or something?” Satine teases.
“I’m just trying to be polite,” he mutters, and now it’s his turn to blush. Christian gives her a sheepish smile, shoving one hand inside the front pocket of his pants. His other hand is clutching—of all things—a bouquet of yellow roses. Christian must have been walking past Satine’s dressing room on the way to deliver them to another actor and stopped to ask her a quick question or perhaps make a request of her along the way. Satine wonders who in the cast (or crew) has caught Christian’s eye. She’s surprised to feel a wave of jealousy rising in her chest not over the evidence that Christian has gotten over his rather obvious crush on Satine—which is a good thing as Satine is unavailable—but rather over the flowers.
As if she needed more of a reminder of what she doesn’t have, Satine turning in her seat to better meet Christian’s gaze makes her side throb with pain and she attempts to surreptitiously rub at the spot, hiding a wince. It’s been nearly two weeks since her boyfriend Andre’s booted foot made contact with Satine’s ribs yet the spot still aches, tender and sore. Satine struggles to tear her eyes away from the roses. She can’t remember the last time Andre gave her flowers for any reason other than an apology.
Satine hasn’t known Christian for very long—only a chemistry read at auditions and then a few months of rehearsals as they prepared to make their debuts in these roles—but in that brief time she has learned that he seems to have strange notions of politeness or perhaps even gentlemanly behavior. Despite rehearsing for a show in which they’re playing a couple in love who get rather intimate onstage he was always asking her, “Is this okay?” or, “May I touch you here?” He even asked if he was allowed to kiss her on the day they reached that scene in the script which Satine thought was the most bizarre thing he could have possibly done. This show requires specific blocking from their characters; what was she going to do—say no?
Maybe it’s a Lima, Ohio thing.
Satine hasn’t been able to get through to Christian that—so long as they’re at work—he’s allowed to do whatever their roles require and he doesn’t have to ask. But Christian refuses to see reason. The only way they get anywhere is if Satine gives him the permission he’s seeking, so that’s what she does now.
Wordlessly, Satine waves him into her dressing room. “What can I do for you?” She asks, setting aside the photos and turning— carefully, this time—to give Christian her full attention.
“Oh, I didn’t need anything,” Christian admits, still looking uncertain though now from inside her dressing room. “I was just coming by to say hello.”
“Oh,” Satine says, surprised. For a moment she can only blink at Christian. When Satine has friends among the cast and crew of whatever show she’s working on they stop by her dressing room regularly—so it’s not that she’s unused to social calls or hanging out at work—it’s just that she didn’t realize Christian thought of her like that. Satine has been professional and polite but not overly friendly with her current co-star. Her boyfriend Andre gets jealous, and Satine has learned it’s best to only keep non-men as her friends. Even Baby Doll—who Satine refuses to cut out of her life—tests the bounds of Andre’s patience as Andre refuses to see Baby Doll as anything other than the gender she was assigned at birth. As of right now Baby Doll hasn’t found a label that feels right but she’s adamant that she isn’t a man, and Satine’s indignation of Andre’s continued misgendering of Baby Doll vs. Andre’s anger over Satine’s continued friendship with Baby Doll has been the subject to countless fights.
All of that to say Satine has been careful to keep a cool and professional distance between herself and Christian because if that’s how Andre acts over Satine’s friendship with someone he wrongfully perceives to be a man, Satine can only imagine how poorly he would handle her befriending an actual man. And a man she has to kiss for her job, no less.
“If this is a bad time…” Christian trails off nervously and it’s then that Satine realizes she’s just been staring at him.
“Not at all,” Satine says quickly, looking around for somewhere Christian can make himself comfortable. “It’s just—I’m sorry—I’ve only been here a few days and already I’ve made a mess of the place,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh. “Hold on, let me get these out of your way,” she adds, grabbing a stack of photos off a nearby chair then gesturing for Christian to take a seat.
The cleared space in the dressing room is a little cramped—not that the room itself was all that big to begin with—and Christian’s chair is a little too close to Satine’s so his knee presses up against hers once he’s seated. Satine would like for there to be a more appropriate amount of distance between them but she doesn’t dare scoot her chair back as she’s already been rude and she doesn’t want to make it worse in case Christian interprets that to mean she dislikes him.
Satine is contemplating if perhaps that would be a good thing to avoid potential future complications with Andre when Christian catches her off guard by moving his own chair back. When Satine stares at him, surprised, he hastily explains, “Sorry, I—I didn’t—this wasn’t—I only wanted to give you some more room. We were crammed in here like sardines,” he adds, chuckling awkwardly. “Why is that a saying, anyway? Who decided that sardines are the most squished together food and not—I don’t know—a container of Pringles? Or perhaps—”
“That’s fine,” Satine responds quickly, interrupting Christian in a manner she hopes won’t be interpreted as unkind. She’s learned that once he starts rambling he will go on with no end in sight unless he’s stopped. Christian’s grateful albeit sheepish smile alleviates any worries of having hurt Christian’s feelings. Then—while smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of her dress to give her an excuse not to meet Christian’s gaze—she softly adds, “Thank you.”
“Yes, of course,” Christian responds, as if making sure Satine is comfortable is easy and no big deal, as if he doesn’t realize the depth of kindness it is to be factoring Satine’s wants and needs into the equation. Christian makes her feel like an equal which Satine doesn’t know how to begin to respond to. Thankfully Christian saves her by changing the subject. “I also wanted to give you these,” Christian says, and Satine looks up to find him holding out the bouquet of yellow roses.
It never occurred to Satine that they might be for her. Her stomach flips and she hesitates to take them, suddenly worried Christian might be hitting on her. Christian had been interested in her when they’d first met which wasn’t unusual; nearly every man Satine meets is interested in her. In fucking her, at least. What was different about Christian, however, is the first time Satine brought up the fact that she had a boyfriend he had backed off and started treating her just as a coworker, or perhaps a friend.
“They’re a dressing room warming present,” Christian hastens to explain in response to Satine’s reluctance to take them. “I brought them for you the night of our debuts but there was so much going on that I forgot to give them to you.”
Satine chews on her lip, considering. It’s undeniable that Christian still has feelings for her—it’s written all over his face—but Satine reminds herself that Christian has respected her relationship status since the moment he learned about it so it would be bizarre for him to suddenly make a move now. Besides, if Christian had more than platonic intent or professional courtesy as the reason for his gift he would not have hesitated so long outside of her dressing room door waiting for her invite. Furthermore, he would have shut the door behind himself—trapping her in a small space alone with him—and he would be more eager to invade her personal space, not trying so hard to keep out of it.
“Thank you,” Satine says at length, taking the bouquet carefully from Christian so her fingers won’t brush his. “They smell lovely,” she adds truthfully, inhaling the beautiful floral scent. “I don’t have anything for you,” Satine admits apologetically, feeling guilty.
“That’s alright,” Christian hastens to assure her. “Getting to share the stage with you is gift enough.”
Satine swears her heart actually skips a beat. Eager to change the subject she casts about, scanning the room. “I have a vase here somewhere, I think—oh! There it is!” She exclaims when she finds it, pointing to behind Christian’s chair on the floor. “Do you mind—”
“I’ll go fill it with water,” Christian says, rising and taking the vase with him.
“Thank you, darling,” Satine says gratefully, smiling up at him. She’d only meant to ask him to hand it to her but if he’s offering to do more she isn’t going to turn him down.
“It’s not a problem.”
Satine manages to get several more photos taped to the wall by her mirror before Christian returns. Satine thanks him again—feeling like a broken record but not knowing what else to say—removing the plastic from the flowers and then arranging them in the vase while Christian retakes his seat. They really are quite lovely and Satine appreciates that he opted for a color other than red or even pink which are so often viewed as romantic gestures. “I apologize for the mess,” Satine says. “I’ve been decorating.”
“I can see that. I like it,” Christian says, making Satine laugh.
“It’s a wreck,” she says, still giggling.
“I’ll like it when it’s done, then,” Christian amends with a genuine smile. His eyes scan the room, landing on the photos Satine’s been hanging up. “Who’s that?” He asks, pointing to a picture sandwiched between one of Satine and Baby Doll at a birthday party and one of Satine and Arabella at Arabella and Ivy’s wedding the previous year.
“This?” Satine asks, tapping the picture of the white cat. After Christian nods in confirmation Satine informs him, “That’s my cat,” while fighting a smile. Satine never misses an opportunity to gush about Bijou but she recognizes that Christian is likely just making conversation and trying to get to know Satine a little better and therefore doesn’t actually want to listen to her ramblings. He doesn’t really care to find out that Bijou knows how to play fetch, that she sneezes if Satine tries a new perfume that Bijou doesn’t like, that Bijou used to sleep all curled up and tucked under Satine’s chin every night until they moved in with Andre and he banned Bijou from the bedroom.
Now Bijou spends every night crying outside of the bedroom door, not understanding why she’s seemingly been shoved aside to make room for someone new in Satine’s life. Her meows almost sound as if she’s crying and Satine attempts to fall asleep while facing away from Andre so he won’t see the tears on her own cheeks as hearing Bijou calling for her and not being able to do anything about it breaks Satine’s heart. Satine keeps hoping Bijou will adjust to their new life—a life that was supposed to offer more stability and safety for them both even if they lose some things in the process—but so far Bijou hasn’t, and it’s been months and months.
“What’s their name?” Christian asks politely, drawing Satine out of her thoughts.
“Her name is Bijou,” Satine says quietly. She glances down at the stack of photos she’s brought to tape up and—realizing precisely how many are of Bijou—turns the stack upside down to hide them from view, embarrassed.
“She’s very pretty,” Christian compliments, standing up and leaning in to get a better look. He’s closer to Satine again though he seems more interested in studying the photo than encroaching on Satine’s personal space so she lets it slide for now, watching warily in case his intentions change. “I love her eyes,” Christian continues. “I’ve never seen a cat with multi-colored eyes before.”
“That’s why I named her Bijou,” Satine explains, gesturing to her cat’s one emerald green eye and one sapphire blue one. “It means ‘jewel’ in French.”
Christian’s smile is wide. “How perfect! It really suits her.”
“Thank you,” Satine says, feeling genuinely pleased that Christian has taken an interest in Bijou as she’s one of Satine’s favorite things to talk about. Satine is well aware, however, that even her friends start to affectionately roll their eyes at her when she talks about Bijou for too long so she tries to steer the conversation toward Christian in order to not be rude or worse, ridiculed. “Do you have any pets?”
Christian turns to face her then and—seeming to realize how close they are—takes an almost comically large step backward. He nearly trips over the leg of the chair he had been sitting in and Satine attempts to mask her surprised laugh with a hopefully convincing cough.
“Not yet,” Christian admits once he’s regained his balance, seeming almost saddened by that fact. “We had dogs growing up but I think I would like a cat. Especially since a cat would be better for the size of my apartment and the hours we have to work,” he adds and Satine lets out a little hum of agreement. “I love living here in the city and it’s not that I’m homesick, exactly, as my family and I don’t get along very well, but sometimes my apartment feels so…empty,” Christian confesses. “It’d be nice to have someone to come home to.”
Satine nods her understanding. “It was the same for me before I moved in with Andre,” she admits, studying the picture of Bijou so she doesn’t have to look Christian in the eye when she says it. Satine knows she shouldn’t miss it—because her old apartment was a studio with a radiator that never worked, because the pantry was usually empty, because mold grew in the corners alongside the peeling paint, because she couldn’t afford the things she needed and every extra cent she had went to Bijou’s care—but she can’t help but miss it sometimes. It was the first place she ever lived in that was hers, and after so many years under her father’s control that smidgen of independence and safety was everything.
At least, it had been. Until the novelty wore off and then she was just hungry and cold and responsible for the well-being of more than just herself. Satine knew moving in with Andre wouldn’t be easy as her boyfriend is demanding and quick to anger and somehow even rivals her father’s need for control over her. But when the pantry had started to run low not only on Satine’s food but on Bijou’s as well, Satine decided some sacrifices were necessary to give Bijou the kind of life she deserves, despite what it may cost her personally. Besides, Satine is an adult now. She told herself it would be completely different from how she grew up.
What she hadn’t expected is the way that living with Andre would start to change Bijou’s personality. Satine doesn’t think Andre will ever turn his anger on Bijou—why would he when Satine herself is right there to take his frustrations out on?—but Bijou doesn’t seem to know that. Satine’s once overly affectionate cat is becoming wary of human contact and even skittish, often hiding under furniture and difficult to locate when she doesn’t want to be found, even shying away from Satine if Andre is home as well. Bijou is shedding more out of stress and she’s more agitated than usual. She’s lost most of her appetite and she’s even taken to shredding furniture when she used to be so good about using only her scratch pad.
Satine knows that Bijou is unhappy with their current living situation and she wishes she could explain to the cat that it really is better this way, that Satine continuing to go hungry so Bijou could eat wasn’t going to work in the long run and at least this way they can be together. Satine has wondered if she’s being selfish by continuing to keep Bijou rather than finding her another home, but she thinks the way Bijou feels about Satine is the same way Satine feels about her. The thought of giving Bijou away is unbearable and therefore would likely harm Bijou as well.
“Have you painted her nails?” Christian asks, pointing again to the photo. Satine is surprised that he’s still studying it, seemingly still interested in Satine’s favorite topic.
“They’re nail caps,” Satine explains. “They’re little pieces of plastic that go over her nails and keep her from scratching people and the furniture.” Bijou doesn’t seem to like her nail caps much, but they’re a significantly more humane option than declawing which Satine is adamantly against. Besides, Andre is angry about the damage Bijou has been inflicting on his sofa and armchairs and he’s been demanding that Satine either find a solution or find Bijou somewhere else to live. “She’s recently found a way to get them off,” Satine says, rolling her eyes in faux annoyance, “so I have to take her to the vet later this week after a show in order to get more put on. I’m thinking of getting her red ones this time so we can match,” Satine admits giddily, holding up her own nails so Christian can see.
It hits her again how long she’s been rambling on about her cat and she’s about to clam up and apologize for boring Christian and monopolizing the conversation but she’s surprised to notice that Christian’s face is open and eager as if he’s genuinely enjoying himself. Gently he takes Satine’s outstretched hands in his own, pulling them closer to inspect her nails. “That’s so exciting!” He exclaims. “I’m sure Bijou would love to match with you.”
Satine beams, warmth blossoming in her chest, more information about Bijou pouring out of her mouth in a socially inappropriate endless stream now that she’s found a willing listener. “Or perhaps I should get her pink ones again. She’s the sweetest cat but I have to admit she’s rather picky. Her favorite toys are these fuzzy little mice, but they come in a multipack of different colors and she’ll only play with the pink ones,” Satine says, affectionately shaking her head. “I have to buy several packages of them so she has toys. Everyone says I’m spoiling her but—”
“But she deserves it!” Christian interjects with utter certainty.
“Exactly,” Satine agrees, her smile so wide it’s making her cheeks ache and she can’t seem to wipe it off her face. Satine’s friends have stopped coming over to visit since she moved in with Andre and the joy she feels over being able to talk again with another person about someone as important to her as Bijou is indescribable. After all, Andre certainly has no interest in conversations about Bijou besides yelling at them both for Bijou’s scratching or meowing and threatening to toss Bijou out onto the streets.
Satine may have to rethink Christian’s status as her friend; he seems like the kind of person she would like to get to know better. Maybe if she only talks to him at work so Andre never finds out… “Besides, I just donate the other mice. Do you know Safe Haven Animal Shelter? It’s over on—”
“I do!” Christian interrupts excitedly. “I live near there!”
“Well, that’s where I got Bijou,” Satine informs him. “It’s on the other side of the city from me now so I don’t go often but it’s a great place. Everyone there is very kind and they’ll help pair you up with some animals to meet based on what you’re looking for.” Satine will be forever grateful that they are the ones who introduced her to Bijou.
Christian nods eagerly. “I’ll have to remember that!”
“I look forward to hearing about it if you get a cat,” Satine admits truthfully. She’d love to meet Christian’s cat—or even for Christian to meet Bijou—but suspects that will be an impossibility. Even if she lies to Andre about where she’s gone he seems to have a way of tracking her down; Satine suspects he’s done something to her phone. And the thought of what Andre would do to her if he found out that Satine invited a man over to their apartment while she was home alone sends shivers down her spine.
“You’ll hear all about it!” Christian promises. “I’m not in any rush though,” He says almost apologetically. “When I get a cat I want it to be the right one.”
Satine nods. “That’s smart. I think you’ll know when it’s a good fit.”
“May I help you with that?” Christian asks seemingly out of the blue, gesturing to the roll of tape that was giving Satine so much trouble earlier and the stack of photos Satine hadn’t even realized she’d been fidgeting with.
“Be my guest,” Satine says, glad to be rid of that poor excuse for an adhesive.
Christian pulls pieces of tape off the roll and Satine sticks them on the backs of her photos, hanging them on the wall. It’s slower going than Satine had been managing on her own as somehow Christian is significantly worse at getting tape off his fingers than Satine was—at one point she looks back at him to discover he’s somehow gotten it stuck to the end of his nose and Satine chokes on a laugh—but Satine finds she doesn’t mind, appreciative of Christian’s company. They fall into an easy silence then—not uncomfortable like how it was when Christian first arrived—broken occasionally by Christian remarking that he loves Bijou’s pink pajamas or asking Satine how she got Bijou to sit and pose for photos in front of the Christmas tree.
“Well,” Christian says, getting to his feet after they’ve hung every photo of Bijou plus a couple of others, “this was fun but now I’ll leave you to it before I overstay my welcome. Besides, we have a show to get ready for.”
Satine glances at the clock, surprised to discover how much time has passed. She’s going to have to scramble to be ready in time, not that she regrets so much as a moment she’s just spent with Christian. “I’m glad you dropped by,” Satine says, meaning it. This is the best evening she’s spent in a long while.
“Then I’ll do it again sometime,” Christian promises. He gives Satine an awkward little wave before he goes and she ducks her head to hide her laugh.
Still smiling, Satine inspects the progress she and Christian made with her photos. Satine is pleased to discover that she’s not feeling quite so embarrassed any longer by how many are of Bijou. It’s only then that Satine realizes she’s yet to tape up a photo of herself and Andre. The thought that she must do this makes her good mood falter slightly.
Satine feels guilty—what kind of girlfriend doesn’t want her boyfriend’s photo on the wall?—but her relationship with Andre is…tumultuous as best, and Satine likes to fill her dressing room with things that make her feel happy and loved and confident. Like photos of Bijou. Like handwritten notes from her loved ones. Like memories of an evening spent talking and laughing with a potential new friend. Like yellow roses. These things make Satine feel good about herself and help her get in the proper headspace for performing.
But lately when Satine thinks about Andre, her confidence wanes. Satine looks around her dressing room, surveying this little space of comfort and safety she’s cultivating for herself. She’s pleased with how it’s currently shaping up and she knows can’t look at Andre’s face every day then go onstage and do her best work. But Satine also knows she can’t get by without displaying a single photo of Andre on the off-chance he decides to visit her dressing room. Andre won’t warn her either; he’ll just show up.
Reluctantly, Satine hangs a photo of the two of them on the lowest possible part of the wall. It’s a professional shot at an event hosted by Andre’s work. Satine studies the photo critically: her dress designer, her smile forced, her boyfriend’s arm just a smidge too tight around her waist, fingers digging in as if needing to make a show of what’s his.
Then, frowning, Satine drags the vase of flowers Christian gave her across the vanity until it’s covering the photo, hiding it from view. This way if Andre ever stops by Satine can just move the vase. Then Satine sets aside the photos and starts to prepare for the show. When she bends down to pick up a tube of mascara that’s fallen to the floor she winces as her shoulder protests the sudden movement with a twinge. Several nights ago, Andre had wrenched Satine’s arm behind her back while yelling and forcing her to look at the side of the couch that Bijou has been using as a scratch pad.
Satine frowns while rubbing her shoulder, attempting to ease the pain. She really hopes that more frequent applications of the nail caps help. She fears for Bijou’s safety—and her own—if the cat continues to destroy things in Andre’s apartment, and then Satine will have no choice but to find Bijou a new home. Not wanting it to come to that but knowing she needed to at least be aware of her options, Satine has already checked with her friends but none of them are able to take Bijou at the moment. This means Bijou would have to be given to a stranger Satine doesn’t trust and then Satine will likely never see her again. That absolutely cannot happen so Satine will find another solution.
She can’t lose Bijou. She just can’t.