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Entry 5

Date- February 8th

Time- 12:56 PM

After several weeks of deliberation (and, admittedly, procrastination), I finally decided to stop writing in my office. Or stop trying, rather. I don't know, but something about it just isn't giving me ideas anymore… And honestly, it's starting to get more than a little annoying. I know what to write, know what has to happen, but I just can't get it down on paper. So today, I decided to venture out to see what kind of places this dumb American city has to offer for writing. It's been dismal. After checking what feels like hundreds of internet cafés and hotel lobbies, I still haven't found the perfect place. Excuse my French, but merde! You'd think these Americans would be smart enough to build a nice place for aspiring writers to work. Since I haven't found a nice spot, I'm taking a break at one of the nicer cafés I found. Not a good atmosphere to write, but they make pretty good croissants.

For Americans.

By the way, starting a new section of this blog called woman of the day, in which I will describe the woman (or man) I most recently slept with!

Today's lucky lady: red head, pale skin with lots of freckles. Very feisty. She smelled of cinnamon.

oOo

Entry 9

Date- Februrary 15th

Time- 9:36 AM

I finally found it! My writing spot! I happened to be out, getting a cup of coffee when I spotted a lovely woman passing by, walking a golden retriever. The animal reminded me of my dear Dimanche (God rest his soul), so I simply had to begin a conversation. The woman was very nice (and single!), by the name of Marie. She told me her pet's name was Bourbon, and that she was just walking home from a park a block or two away. I had never heard of such a park, so after a few moments of flirting and exchanging numbers, I left to check it out. And this is it! It's a quaint park, but it's large enough so I can sit and type without getting the feeling that someone's looking over my shoulder all of the time. I think I might actually be able to churn out a few pages today! That, and I have to answer some questions from my column… If you don't know, dear reader, I have a column in the Foxgrove Times, one of the smaller newspapers of this city. I'll include a link to the website tomorrow, so you can have the pleasure of sampling my work.

Lucky lady: Long, black hair, with mocha colored skin. She had the most exotic green, almond shaped eyes. A bit of a novice in bed, sadly.

oOo

Entry 11

Date- Feburary 19th

Time- 5:31 PM

Got a call from mon petit frère Mathew today. Poor boy, he seems to be in a bit of depression. He will never admit it, though, because he knows how much it would worry me. He's such a sweetie! Maybe I should convince him to leave Canada; all of that snow and cold may be too much for him. I don't care how much he loves living up there, if he's not happy, I'll drag him all the way back to Paris myself...

When I get the money, that is… A career in journalism at a second rate paper only pays so much. At least I can afford wine, coffee, and cigarettes. Oui, it would be nice to buy the latest fashions like I used to, but… As I said, money issues.

I knew I should've never left Paris!

Ah… But enough of this sadness, I have some good news: I'm finally past the brainstorming and researching part of my novel! The park has helped tremendously! Nothing like a little bit of nature to help stimulate the imagination, non? I would tell you about the plot, but I don't want to spoil it. Here, I'll give you a little hint: It's a crime/drama/romance novel set in France. Sounds wonderful already, doesn't it? It has a dashing hero, a beautiful heroine, and more than a few erotica scenes… Can't wait to get to writing those chapters! I have plenty of ideas for them… Haha!

Lady of the day: Brunette, with green eyes and freckles across her nose by the name of Marie. Sound familiar?

oOo

Entry 20

Date- Feburary 27th

Time- 1:15 PM

I apologize for randomly skipping around on posting dates. Some days I get distracted by the prospect of women or alcohol, and on others I run out of cigarettes. It's always hard to write without nicotine in my system... Mathew wants me to stop, but I'm more than old enough to make my own decisions. Not that I'm old! Thirty two is pretty young, isn't it? Not old at all… Just old enough to be distinguished. Oui, that's the word. Distinguished.

Anyway, this morning I met the homeless man who lives in the park. I've seen him before today, but we've never exchanged words. Actually, if I hadn't seen him sleeping on one of the park benches using his jacket as a pillow, I never would've guessed he was homeless. His hair is a bit terrible, and his eyebrows definitely need a trimming (They look like caterpillars, I swear!), but he wears some sort of military looking suit that, although tacky, looks professional. He was strolling a path near me, and I had ordered an extra croissant (because the new waitress at my usual café is gorgeous), so I offered it to him. He thanked me, took it, and left. Hmph. I would've talked to someone who gave me food if I lived on the streets, but… Oh well. At least he's grateful.

Lady of the day: Short black hair, with dark eyes. A little on the short side, but I didn't mind. Terrific in bed!

oOo

Entry 29

Date- March 1st

Time- 6:30 PM

Finally had a conversation with that homeless man who lives in my park. And you know what? He's British! Can you believe it? All this time, I've been giving food to an ungrateful British enculé! (That's bastard, for those of you who speak English. Although you should learn French. Now.) The only reason I found out he was British was when he insulted my gorgeous hair. My hair! My hair is beautiful, thank you very much! He told me I looked like 'a nancy boy' all because I made one little comment about his eyebrows! I knew the British were so ungrateful… After a quick argument, he stomped off angrily after I insulted his hair. At least my hair doesn't make me look like a punk, thank you very much. I know he doesn't deserve any of the amazing food I give him every morning, but I'll continue to generously donate my baked goods. And all of it will be French cuisine. Hah! That's what he gets!

Lady of the day: A man this time! An albino, with the most striking red eyes. Obnoxious, but funny. Impressive tattoo of a two headed eagle on his back.

oOo

Entry 35

Date- March 10th

Time- 1:29 PM

Had another argument with Arthur (that's the name of the homeless man in the park). Something about how French food is much better than English food, or something along those lines. Not much else to say, besides that. The writing's going great, like it has been for the past few weeks. I'm at chapter five now! Dieu, I better start looking for a publisher…

Lady of the day: Blonde with tan skin and dark blue eyes. Very curvy, but I'm fairly sure she had some plastic surgery done.

oOo

Entry 40

Date- March 15th

Time- 2:54 PM

Fighting with Arthur is now a daily occurrence. I don't really mind, though. It's not too bad having someone to talk to, even if he is a bad-tempered, unstylish Englishman. We even have nicknames for each other! He calls me either a 'cheese monkey' or a 'wine guzzling tool' and I call him a 'brebis galeuse' (black sheep). It's very funny to flirt with him, because his face goes the cutest shade of red and he starts to stutter. He gets really angry if you grope him! It's a bit endearing, really. I'm beginning to enjoy this park.

Lady of the day: Brunette a bit on the short side with light blue eyes. A feisty one!

oOo

Entry 51

Date- March 30th

Time- 4:53 PM

Hah! Today, I learned that Arthur's terrified of cars! Isn't that just the strangest thing? You see, when Arthur and I were having our daily argument, we somehow got on the topic of how French cars are far superior of British ones. But when I said it, instead of shooting a snide comment like he always did, Arthur just went pale and wouldn't say anything. I found one of his weaknesses! I'll have to file that tidbit away for future reference.

Lady of the day: Redhead with light green eyes. Nice enough in bed, I suppose.

oOo

Entry 60

Date- April 10th

Time- 6:36 PM

Ugh. I was out in the park today, typing and minding my own business when it started to storm! I mean lightning and pouring down buckets of rain, that type of storm. Nasty stuff. So naturally, I folded up my laptop and starting looking around for shelter, when suddenly, the raindrops stopped falling. I glanced behind me, and Arthur was there, blushing like crazy and holding an umbrella above my head. I tried to get him to use it for himself (what if he caught a cold? I doubted he had insurance.), but he just said something about how even frogs deserved to have shelter and walked away. How strange… I suppose we're friends now? That makes me a little happy, even if he is British.

Entry 79

Date- May 1st

Time- 12:32 PM

MON DIEU, I HAVE GREAT NEWS! My darling little Mattie is getting married! I'm so proud of him! I was just sitting in the park (after my daily 'conversation' with Arthur) when he called sounding all cute and shy. Here's our conversation:

Mathew: "Um… B-bonjour Francis. H-how are you?"

Me: "Bonjour! I'm fine, just writing as usual."

Mathew: "Um… Th-that's good…"

There were a few moments of silence.

Me: "Mattie, are you feeling well? You seem much more nervous than usual! Come, tell big brother what's wrong~"

Mattie: "N-nothing's wrong! It's… It's just that, um… Ar-are you coming to the wedding?"

Me: "Wedding? Who's having a wedding?"

Mattie: "You don't know? I thought I sent you the invitation… Maybe it got lost in the mail…"

Me: "Stop torturing me Mattieu, who's getting married?"

Mattie: "Umm… M-me…?"

I almost dropped the phone! It turns out that a year or two ago, mon frère met a man named Alfred who was up in Canada for a business trip (he's a sales rep of some sort) and it was all downhill from there! Turns out he had sent me the wedding invitation a few months ago, and he was worried that I didn't want to come. Of course I would come to my little Mattieu's wedding! I'm so proud of him! Dieu, I remember the days when he would just run around the house with his teddy bear, drenching everything he ate in maple syrup… I feel so old now! Ah, but now I have to run out and grab a suit, because it turns out that Mattieu's wedding is next week in Montreal. And I need a plane ticket and a wedding gift…! So much to do!

Lady of the day: Brunette with brown eyes. Met her at the subway.

oOo

Entry 83

Date- May 9th

Time- 10:24 AM

Mattieu's wedding was beautiful! It was a small service at an old Catholic church on the outskirts of the city, but mon Dieu, it was amazing. I got to walk him down the aisle and see him begin to cry a little as his husband declared his vows, and even I began to tear up! I had to console mere, she was nearly sobbing at the sight of Mattieu in his white suit, looking so cute and ready to be married. After the vows, Mattieu and his husband ran down the aisle and we all headed to the reception at a nearby restaurant. I have to say, Mattieu looked so happy when he began to take his first dance… It killed me to see my little brother so grown up… After awhile, I sat down to enjoy a nice glass of champagne, and Alfred (Mattieu's husband) came to sit next to me. He looked tired, but happy. As he propped his feet up on a nearby chair, he told me how Mattieu was off being congratulated by friends so he left to get a bit of air.

We started a conversation, and I became happier and happier for Mathew. Alfred is cheerful and outgoing (although he can get a bit annoying), so he's a perfect counterpart to my brother. I can see how they bring out the best in each other.

It turns out, they met at the little coffee shop where Mattieu works. Alfred stopped in there for coffee and came back every morning after that. (Something about how 'Mattie made the perfect cup of joe, dude!') Then they started flirting, Mattieu staring giving him discounts, and soon Alfred asked him out on a date. Dieu, I'm so proud of mon petite Mattieu~ Just the expression on Alfred's face when he looked at him melted my heart. It was just so loving, so trusting…

Perhaps I should think of settling down myself…

Lady of the day: A man with dark skin and brown hair. He has the most sultry Spanish accent I've ever heard in my life.

oOo

Entry 84

Date- May 10th

Time- 11:08 PM

Oh, I almost forgot to mention another thing about Mattieu's wedding. While Alfred and I were talking, and the strangest thing happened. You see, Alfred made a comment on how he wished his brother could've seen him be married. I was sympathetic (after all, I knew how it felt after père died), and Alfred dug through his pockets and showed me a picture of his older brother. Here's the strange part: He looked exactly like Arthur. He had the same blonde hair, the green eyes and even those horrendous eyebrows. If that wasn't strange enough, Alfred said his name was Arthur! I wanted to ask him more, but Mattieu came over looking so angelic and content I couldn't bear to press for questions.

After all, it was probably just a coincidence.

Oui?

oOo

Entry 85

Date- May 11th

Time- 6:31 PM

I'm back at home now! You should've seen it; when I went to the park where I always write, Arthur was sitting on my bench, looking all angry and irritation. But when he saw me, he pretended to be even angrier, but you could just tell he was smiling with his eyes. We had a quick fight (about how I was lazy and good for nothing), but it was over much sooner than the others. After it, he took his usual croissant and began to eat in that silent, dignified manner of his, so I just leaned back and enjoyed the morning. After a while, he dabbed his mouth daintily with a napkin and muttered, "Th-thanks, frog. I… I missed you." I was shocked! I stared over at him in shock, but he wouldn't meet my eyes. His face was the brightest shade of red I've ever seen. A few moments later, I smiled at him, then made a teasing comment. "Oh mon cherie, are you finally falling for me?" At that he blushed even harder, gave me a swift uppercut to the stomach, and stomped away shouting about 'stupid frogs'.

It hurt like hell, but it was worth it.

oOo

Entry 93

Date- May 25th

Time- 4:50 PM

I couldn't help myself. Remember how Alfred told me about his brother, and he looked exactly the same as Arthur? Well, that conversation has been bugging me for a long, long time, so I started searching for more information. Dieu… What I found… That poor family. Arthur and Alfred's parents had a harsh divorce, and, shortly afterwards, the father committed suicide. I can't imagine how that would feel… And to add to that, a few years later Arthur died in a car accident. He was walking in his neighborhood late one night and got hit by a truck. Never stood a chance.

Dieu, I can't stop thinking about what I would do if Mathew died. I've never really thought about it before, but it's like that boy is the only thing keeping me sane…

oOo

Entry 96

Date- May 29th

Time- 11:46 PM

I've been thinking, and I don't think that the relation between Alfred's dead brother and the Arthur I know is a coincidence. Oui, I know it sounds insane, but… Look at the evidence:

They look exactly the same

Arthur's terrified of cars. Wouldn't that make sense if he was hit by one?

Oui, I know that's not much to go on, but I still have this nagging suspicion…

Tomorrow, I'll ask Arthur a few questions.

I'll keep you posted.

Entry 97

Date- May 30th

Time- 5:32 PM

I couldn't do it.

I went to the park this morning, primed to ask questions and not take no for an answer, but when I got there… Arthur, he was sitting on the bench I always sit on with his usual scowl, arms crossed in pretend anger. I gave him his usual croissant and began to eat my own. For a while, it was quiet between us. I let him get comfortable, then made my first attack.

"You know, my petit frère Mathew was married a few weeks ago. I'm so proud of him. He met this man named Alfred, and the two are so cute together!" As I was talking, he looked ready to make a rude comment, but he paused at the name Alfred. He was quiet for a long moment, staring down at his croissant. The expression on his face… He looked so… regretful. Then he said, "Ah... That's good," We were silent for a few minutes. I actually began to regret what I said. I was even about to change the topic, but he began to speak.

"I have a little brother named Alfred, you know… We never did get along." He smiled a bit, but it made him more regretful than happy. "We fought over the dumbest things… What to wear, how to act, what was proper." He laughed bitterly at that. "He eventually just left, and then I realized just how damn pathetic I am without anyone around."

For once, I had no idea what to say. What do you say to something like that? I couldn't just start interrogating him, no while he was so torn up. So I just stayed quiet and wrapped my arms around him.

He didn't push me away.

oOo

Entry 102

Date- June 9th

Time- 3:40 PM

I think something's wrong with me.

Things have changed between Arthur and I. When we're together, we still argue, but now it feels different. We sound more like an old married couple when we fight, not two enemies. He doesn't push me away nearly as often, and more often than not, I even see him smiling over at me when he thinks I'm not looking! Arthur. Smiling!

That, and I can't write anymore. Every time I sit down to type, I suddenly start thinking of how trivial the story is. Trivial. How can the plot I once thought was brilliant seem so dull? I'm even falling behind at work! I'm falling behind on my column, all because I'm spending hours and hours at the park doing nothing but talking to Arthur. I'm noticing things I've never noticed before, like how Arthur's eyes are the color of fields of clover in springtime or how cute he looks when he blushes or how he tries to hide how happy he is whenever he sees me…

I'm getting too caught up in it all, too caught up in him, but I can't stop. Arthur's like a drug, a drug even more powerful than the nicotine in the cigarettes I used to smoke. (Arthur hates the smell of cigarettes.)

Mon Dieu.

I need some wine.

oOo

Entry 108

Date- June 20th

Time- 10:23 AM

I talked to Mathew and Alfred last night via a webcam. It was so nice to see my little brother's face again, especially with how happy he is. He and Alfred told me about how they had just moved into their new house, a little place just outside of Montreal, not too far from where they were married. They told me about their honeymoon in Hawaii (Alfred made a few comments that made Mathew blush), and about their new neighborhood and renovations they planned for the house… After a while, Mathew excused himself to walk the dog, and it was just Alfred and I. And… Well, I couldn't help it. I gently nudged the conversation in the right direction, then asked how his brother died.

I wished I had never asked.

The expression on his face suddenly changed, and he looked so sad, just as Arthur had when I mentioned him.

"Oh, Artie…? He died a while back… We were always at each other's throats, you know? Never got along about anything. Then one time, we had a really bad fight about something stupid like hair or clothes or something, and I stormed out of the house. And… Well, I guess he was coming to get me, but on the way he got hit by a car... Damn bastard never saw him." He just sighed at that, and shook his head. "Poor dude. I miss him a lot… Y'know, he seemed like the grouchiest old guy, but he was too nice for his own good. One time, he made me a set of toy soldiers for my birthday and even broke his arm doing it!" Alfred laughed at the memory. "We were a mess when we were younger… This one time, I was crying hardcore because I broke my tricycle and mom and dad wouldn't get me another, so Artie spent his entire allowance to buy me a new one. But by then I didn't even like riding bikes anymore, and he was so mad when I never rode it!"

I chuckled at that, imagining a younger Arthur shouting at Alfred, calling him all the names he called me.

"Yeah… I miss him like hell. But he probably doesn't miss me… I was just some twerp who always got in his way."

And I, being the stupid man I am, busted out with: "Non! Alfred, he really cared for you... He wishes he could take it all back."

Alfred looked at me as if I was crazy.

"Whaddya mean? You don't know-"

Then he was pounced on by he and Mathew's Dalmatian, followed by a laughing Mattieu, and the conversation stopped there.

oOo

Entry 109

Date- June 21st

Time- 9:49 AM

Now I know it for sure. Arthur's stuck here for some reason, and I have to make it right. He doesn't deserve to be here. It sounds insane, it sounds like I'm a total nutcase, but I can't help but think it's true. Arthur's dead. He needs to move on, go to heaven or hell, if either really exists. Although I can't imagine mon ange in hell. Non, he's too nice for that. He deserv

"Good morning, Frog. How's your pointless novel going?"

Francis glances up from his frantic typing to see Arthur standing over him, the slightest of smiles on his face.

"Oh… Fine." The Frenchman weakly replies, shutting his laptop and tucking it into the messenger bag hanging from the back of the bench. Arthur casts him a strange look at the tone, taking the seat beside him.

"Hm? What's wrong? Did the cheese monkey finally run out of wine?" he teases.

Francis is silent at that, staring down at his feet instead of at his friend. The Englishman frowns, noticing how pale the other's face is, how there are dark circles under those pristine blue eyes. He hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder, staring at the man anxiously.

"Francis..? Are you okay?"

At first, Francis doesn't answer. He glances over at Arthur, and the other almost winces at the look in his eyes. He has never seen the Frenchman look so lost.

"Arthur… Are you..." He falters for a moment. "Dead?"

Arthur pales, staring at his friend disbelievingly.

"Uh… Wh-why would you think that? Of course I'm not dead." He forces a laugh, discomfort painfully obvious. "You're such a strange chap! Are you smoking something else beside those vile cigarettes?"

Francis stays quiet, eyes never wavering from Arthur's. After a long, painful moment, Arthur's false smile finally falls.

"I… Um… H-how did you…?" He trails off, as if to finish the sentence would pain him.

"My little brother. He's married to Alfred Jones."

The truth suddenly dawns on Arthur.

"Ah… Alfred…" He shifts his gaze, staring down at his lap. "God…"

"He misses you."

Arthur doesn't look up, instead giving a bitter laugh.

"You're awfully good at lying, frog. There's no way in hell my little brother would actually miss me."

Francis reached over, taking Arthur's face in his hands.

"Arthur, look at me."

The Englishman hesitates, but finally, green eyes travel up to meet blue.

"Alfred adores you. He said so himself."

Arthur pauses as if to take in the words, then glares at Francis, pushing the Frenchman away as he furiously leaps to his feet.

"Stop it!" he hisses, hands curling into fists. "You don't know anything about us!"

Francis waits a few moments, then stands, staring down at his friend.

"Alfred told me about how you broke his arm when you made him a whole set of toy soldiers for his birthday."

"Yes, well, that doesn't mean-!"

"He said that when you two were little, he broke his tricycle, so you saved up your allowance for months to buy him another."

Arthur falters at that.

"But-"

"He said he misses you terribly."

"I… He… He does…?"

Francis nods, stepping closer to the Englishman.

"He really does."

Tears begin to rise in Arthur's eyes, and for just a moment, he stands alone, rocking back and forth on his heels. But then he runs to Francis, letting himself be enveloped in his warm arms.

The two are quiet for a long, long time, Francis rocking back and forth and whispering assurances to Arthur as he sobs into his chest, staining his shirt with tears. Francis strokes the other's hair, holding the other so close to him, wishing that-

"I-i ruined your clothes…" Arthur mumbles after a while, pulling back slightly to wipe his eyes. Francis smiles, fishing a handkerchief from his pocket and handing it over.

"Non, don't worry about it. It's not that important to me."

Arthur smiles at that, cleaning his face with the small snatch of cloth before staring up at the Frenchman with eyes red from crying.

"Francis… Thank you."

Francis tightens his grip around the Englishman, suddenly fearing the worst.

"Do you…?"

He leaves the question open, the look in his eyes akin to desperation. Arthur bites his lip, hugging Francis close as he nods.

"Yes… I've been here far too long for my own good."

Francis heaves a shaky sigh, pressing his face in Arthur's hair. Dieu… For the first time, he realizes that Arthur smells of blooming clover, with just a hint of Earle Grey tea.

"I was afraid of that."

"Don't worry, chap, it's not your fault. I was set to leave soon anyway… I was wondering how to tell you goodbye."

"You were…?"

"Yes. I've done my time."

Francis pulls away, eyes meeting those of the Englishman. He has so many questions… But he can't ask them, not when he has such little time.

"Arthur, I-"

He's cut off by the sound of ringing church bells, the sound powerful, sounding as if they came from inside his head rather than from any mortal place.

Arthur sighs in frustration, glancing up at the overcast sky with a frown.

"Francis, I have to leave."

The Frenchman's frown deepens, his eyes widening in horror as Arthur gently pulls away.

"But mon cherie…"he protests.

"Francis… I have to go now. Thank you for making my last months enjoyable."

The Englishman smiles up at him, caught in a ray of sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees above. With trembling hands, Francis brushes a lock of hair from Arthur's face, completely lost in the other's angelic smile.

Slowly, unbelievably, Arthur begins to lean closer. Francis' heart races as he feels his breath on his face, smells the tea on the other's breath, and he slowly closes his eyes.

Their lips press together in a tender kiss, where all Francis is aware of is Arthur, and all he cares about is the Englishman before him. When he opens his eyes, he's standing alone on a little path in the park.

"Arthur…" he whispers, one hand resting on his lips.

"Je t'aime."

Then, as if it's just a whisper on the wind, he hears three little words he's waited his whole life to hear.

"I love you."

oOo

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Entry 201

Date- December 30th

Time- 11:55 PM

Another year come and gone.

It's hard to believe it's almost been a year since I've starting writing this. But, as all good things must come to an end, this will too. My new book's being published in a few days, and I'm afraid things will start getting too crazy for me to write here anymore. So everyone, I've been hinting at the plot long enough. Here's the basics:

A born and bred Parisian moves to America in order to write the bestseller he always dreamed. When he gets there, however, he is stuck in a dead end job as a journalist for a small newspaper, and falls victim to the obsessions of lust, alcohol, and drugs. He's about to give up when he's greeted by an unusual Englishman, who changed his life forever…

If you've been keeping up to date and reading this, don't think you know how it ends.

This is the story of what should have happened, the ending that was never able to exist.

Merci for staying with me so long.

À la prochaine,

Francis Bonnefoy

End of 'Parisian Gentleman'.