~CHAPTER EIGHT~



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The commune of Beausoleil, Fr

August 9th, 1924

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Lady Moustache drove himself to the commune of Beausoleil. He was still without his driver Eric, and figured that his father was the reason for his absence. He was definitely going to miss Eric, but didn’t mind driving himself for now. Lady Moustache doubted that he would be getting a new driver anytime soon, but he was alright with that. Besides, he liked the alone time he got. Now, he gets to practise his driving a bit.

Lady Moustache jerked to a stop, parking just about parallel to the sidewalk. He stepped out onto the dusty dirt road. Nearby, he heard the pounding and hammering of construction. Walking a bit closer to see the commotion, Lady Moustache couldn’t help but stare.

A large group of dirty, shirtless tanned men were building what looked to be a church. He bit his knuckle as he gawked. He’d never seen anything like it. He watched the men as they lifted heavy loads, muscles bulging…

(Dear God, man!) He headed down the street, heavily refraining himself from feasting his eyes for any longer.

He didn’t know what he was feeling, but he craved it deeply. At the end of the street, he took another glance, just one more, before continuing to his destination.

(Mmhn…)

Lady Moustache made his way to Le Café and found a random table. He had arrived before Mr. Mann, but this was intentional. He wanted to set up a tab for the two of them, he knew that Mr. Mann would insist on paying. He found the gesture sweet, but didn’t want him to have to spend his money when Lady Moustache had plenty to spare.

A couple of minutes later, Mr. Mann arrived. He was surprised to see Lady Moustache already sitting at his favourite outdoor table. Mr. Mann had planned to set up a tab for the two of them, after all, he was the one that invited Lady Moustache to lunch. It was the polite thing to do. He waved to Mr. Mann when he noticed him walking up. Mr. Mann sat down across from Lady Moustache.

“Bonjour.”

“Bonjour, Darling.” Lady Moustache responded softly, He continued.

“I hope you don’t mind, I already started a tab for us… thought I may as well since I got here first.” He tried to sound cool. He smiled coyly.

“You shouldn’t have to do that, I-” Lady Moustache leaned closer, causing Mr. Mann to pause for a second.

“It’s alright, I insist.” He leaned on his crossed arms, staring deeply into Mr. Mann’s beautiful deep grey eyes.

He looked away, he was staring again, wasn’t he. The two men sat in awkward silence. Eventually, Lady Moustache thought of a good subject to talk about.

“So… What are they building over on that street?” He pointed with his pinky just to the street across from them, the strong men still working hard in the hot sun.

“They’re building a church.” Mr. Mann said. This was common knowledge to the people of Beausoleil, then he remembered just how socially different the two of them were.

“It’s the church of Saint Joseph. They’ve been at it for a good while now, about eleven years now. Took a break during the great war.” He smiled when he saw how amazed his favourite gentleman looked.

“Well, that’s quite remarkable.” Lady Moustache wondered what else he knew about Beausoleil. “How long have you lived here then?”

“Only a couple of years now, I moved here after spending some time in Germany for college.” He was aiming to impress.

Lady Moustache was fascinated. “How exciting! I’m curious, what were you going for?” He thought for a moment. “-And what made you move here?” He enjoyed the view of the street, then of the man across from him.

Mr. Mann considered how much he should reveal. “... I had a full ride scholarship for their theatre program.” A waiter brought them their menus and two glasses of water. After he thanked him, he continued.

“I had to leave the program early, my mother and sister needed a bit of financial support. I chose Beausoleil for the job opportunities in Monaco.”

Mr. Mann had found odd jobs here and there, mostly with Casino de Monte-Carlo. This was where he had met King Richie, who was completely enthralled by the drag performance the casino hired him for.

Lady Moustache seemed confused. “If you’re working in Monaco, why wouldn’t you live there? It’s very beautiful during the summertime… year-round really…” He stopped talking, Mr. Mann appeared a bit displeased. He wondered if he said something wrong.

“I can’t afford it.” Mr. Mann said straightly. He didn’t understand why he’d even have to explain that.

Lady Moustache was undeniably embarrassed. He looked around, looking at the quaint buildings and the gravel roads. He’s never truly realised how fortunate he was.

They decided it was a good time to order, and shortly, their food arrived. Mr. Mann was going to just order a salad, but Lady Moustache insisted he get an actual meal. They made pleasant chit-chat, enjoying their rosé, and soon, their meals.

They lunched and smiled, their faces hurting from laughing so much. Oddly enough, they shared a lot of the same interests. Despite Lady Moustache’s father’s disapproval, they both were in love with the arts. They both eagerly talked about singing and acting, then of drawing. Lady Moustache told him about how he’s been playing the piano from a very young age. He then promised to teach Mr. Mann sometime after he marvelled about his own desire to learn some day.

They had been sitting for a long time now, just talking. Their plates empty and pushed aside. They were both on their third drink, and feeling like they could...