Chapter 28 #3
“Yes,” she hissed. “Think about it, Bas. Really think about it from my point of view—how many people I will have to hurt and disappoint for a mere fancy. At least, if I marry Jacques, I will only be hurting one person.”
“This need to please everyone”—Bastien shook his head—“I don’t get it.”
“Of course you don’t. Look at you!”
“Who cares about what other people think?”
“I do,” she cried out. “Maybe you don’t care what your grandfather and siblings make of you, they certainly don’t expect much, that’s for sure, but my parents expect everything from me.” Celine waved him off. “Forget about driving me back. I can find the way myself just fine.”
“Celine!” he demanded.
Celine slammed the door shut after herself.
· · ·
Half an hour later, Celine was wishing she had paid more attention to the streets when Bastien had driven them out here.
All that surrounded her now were flickering neon lights that reflected backwards on whatever drainage had pooled on the ground and rats squeaking behind trash cans.
Peeling advertisements fluttered on the first floor windows, but none of them sparked any sense of familiarity in her mind.
Sniffling, she trod on, trying hard not to focus on every little noise that travelled down the alley. And even harder to forget Bastien’s complete silence at her confession.
She had been such a fool, so naive for knowing Bastien’s routine and still giving herself false hope. Ana?s had warned her; Bastien himself had shown that his record in matters of the heart was far from clean.
What is one girl for another?
And she was just another girl. He would tire of her in a couple of weeks and toss her aside like a wilted flower before he picked out a fresh one. He already had. He had tired of Elana and since Celine had been right there, making it easy for him…
Celine shivered. She had exited Le Shanghai in raging strides, fully confident she could find her way out of this maze without getting lost the first two minutes of turning the wrong corner.
But at least the neighbourhood wasn’t entirely empty and she hadn’t been moving aimlessly in circles.
Lights flooded Pigalle, and the music Celine had been following all this time came from all the cabarets and cafés with tables strewn out into the street.
There were corners where the crowd was thick and alive with conversation—lines of patrons underneath a haze of cigarette smoke, waiting to get inside.
And a bit further away lingered a small group of elaborately dressed girls and boys, with heavy pasted cosmetics, and long feathers coming out of their headbands.
Under the glow of the facade, Celine distinguished them by their sparkling dresses.
Showgirls—gathered around the back exit for their ten minute break.
Then it was up on the stage again to entertain the patrons.
It was why their clothes were no more than bodices that flaunted outwards into small, puffy skirts, showcasing their long legs.
Celine couldn’t help but pause a few steps away from them and admire the flamboyant display of the jewels lining their wrists and necklines.
She hadn’t realised how close she had approached them when one of the girls turned abruptly, uttering a surprised, “Salut.”
Celine bit down on her lip. “Forgive me. I was just—” But it sounded strange admitting that she was ogling her because she was admiring the costume, so Celine just shook her head. “I was just leaving.”
“No, wait a minute,” the dancer said, disengaging herself from the group as the rest of the girls headed inside. “You look familiar.”
Celine thought better to deny it. “I doubt we have ever—”
“Celine, right?” The girl’s lips settled into an upturned smile. Up close Celine could see the shape of her eyes was a little curved, although her pupils shone green like a cat’s. “I recognised you from the posters, but of course Bas has talked my ears off about you these past few weeks.”
Celine frowned at her for the briefest moment, then realisation settled in, and she said, “You must be the infamous Juliana then.”
Her eyes glinted. “I’m infamous?”
“In the Ménard household,” Celine offered. She understood Ana?s’s infatuation now. Juliana was indeed stunning.
“That’s a relief. I thought Bas had been badmouthing me elsewhere.” Her eyes fell on Celine’s fidgeting fingers. “Say, girls like you don’t usually hang out in alleyways. Are you—” She peered over Celine’s shoulder, checking the empty street behind. “Are you lost?”
“You could say that.”
“A simple yes would do, you know.” She dropped her cigarette on the ground and elegantly stepped on it.
“Why don’t you come inside and wait there for a while?
” Juliana’s fingers were already on the handle, opening the door inwards.
Dimmed, amber-orange lights shone inside, giving the dark corridor a semblance of warmth. “Everything will be on the house.”
Celine had wanted a distraction, hadn’t she? The night was still young; she could still end her birthday on a good note.
“One drink wouldn’t hurt,” she said, before taking Juliana’s hand and following her inside.