My name is Christian
A thousand and a thousand more lust after me, the rich spenders and wealthy ladies too
I pluck your true love, like bending down a rose branch
I stride in gorgeous high heels, like a night breeze playing music on a street corner
Christian, charming and dashing
Always bouncing about in Rococo shirts
I take off my long white stockings and toss them out with lavish generosity
Listen, the audience is cheering for you:
"Have mercy, holy angel of music,
You really are the man most suited to cheating on the goddess of beauty in this whole world!"
They don't call you a pop star, they call you "my love"!
But I'm no flirt, and never love passing clouds and strangers
Far from home, living under another's roof
Like a grapevine, though I long for the sun god's tenderness, how could I dare reach for the sky?
Hard work is meaningless; knowing your place is the truth.
Born beautiful, I can't help it,
But selling myself for my looks is no lasting plan.
Yet I no longer feel at ease
Being a slave, beneath everyone else
While we're young, don't drink too much, my dearest friend,
If it's not meant to be, don't force it
- Christian's improvisation, "Roses en verre"
(Note: "Born beautiful, I can't help it" is an elegant interpretation. The original French line sings, "I'm beautiful and alluring, born to be an expert at selling sex.")
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Readers who made it this far can get a wink from a French male star.
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An alternate European setting. A carefree, flirtatious, long-haired beauty of an uke × a foul-mouthed, chaotic-good, eccentric, secretly sulky seme. French actor puppy × Scottish lord kitty (the big, tough uke surpasses the baguette dog in both physical ability and temperament; they call each other husband).
Both European men have had past relationships, and neither is inexperienced. A pansexual top and a bisexual bottom who has only dated men.
The scheming baguette dog uses his looks to deceive people and plays pitiful to win sympathy, but he's never been a bottom and won't turn into one. He even won the Lyon division of the French "pretend to be a bottom" competition.
Though this is indeed a pure romance, readers with serious cleanliness concerns should proceed with caution.
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Over-the-knee white stockings and high heels make the French top even more top, while a tartan skirt and formalwear make the Scottish bottom even more bottom (with appreciation).
Theme: A delicate French long-haired dog rises up and beats the whole world to a pulp.
