(I'm going to try to expand this story. Updates will probably be few and far between. Though it is rugby season, so maybe not. I become a widow during rugby season)

…..

…..

HELGA'S PROLOGUE

…

The day Helga graduated had been the best day of her life!

"I'm gonna miss you round the house, girl," Big Bob Pataki had told her, hugging her. When he pulled back she almost started to cry when she saw tears were in his eyes. Miriam and Olga were still inside fussing around.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, her voice catching.

"Listen," he said, taking her a little further from the house, he pulled out his wallet. "It's not gonna be cheap, and it's the best I can do." he handed her a credit card. "Fees and emergencies only, girl, I mean it. Tell no one. It'll cover your fees, but you'll need to pay for food and such."

Helga took it from him, her hands shaking.

"Keep it separate from your everyday bank account," he warned her. "Fees and emergencies, remember?"

"Yes Dad, fees and emergencies," she said.

"You got everything else? Birth certificate, passport, drivers license," Bob asked her.

"Dad, I have it all in the little safety box you gave me," she told him, smiling.

Father and daughter stood staring at each other for a long time in silence.

'Where had the time gone?' Bob wondered staring at this beautiful young woman standing before him, ready to spread her wings, and fly from the nest. If only the older one would do the same.

"You look after yourself Helga," he said, pulling her again into a crushing bear hug.

"I'll look after myself, Dad, I promise."

…

…

She looked at the address on the letter in front of her. Underneath had her schedule for lectures and classes. She looked up at the building, Gentileschi Hall. Helga smiled at the irony. She was there to study Arts, and the dorm hall she was to be staying in was named after a female artist.

"Cute," she said, pulling her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her suitcase, and making her way in.

The first thing she saw upon entering was what must have been the student lounge. It was pretty big, couches and a big screen TV. There were some computers in a separate little "office". There were various chairs and little tables scattered around. Some girls were talking animatedly to one another, others looked lost.

Helga was neither. She just wanted to get to her room, which was on the third floor, number thirty-two. It was shared with another girl, Gladys something or rather. She sighed. She hated people. Except Phoebe, she loved Phoebe, but Phoebe wasn't here. Phoebe was at Harvard. She took the lift up. No way in heck was she carrying this suitcase up stairs. It smelled a bit inside, like disinfectant. She didn't really want to think about why. Stepping out on her floor she turned left and looked at the numbers on the doors. Thirty-two. There was music blasting in the room already, and Helga sighed again.

As she reached out to open the door, it flew open to reveal a curvier girl, with glasses and curly brown hair, which had obviously been dyed blonde, but she had let it grow out.

"Helga?" she asked.

Helga smiled and nodded. This girl was going to have a personality as big as her, obviously.

"Come in, come in," she said, moving back then going over to a desk and turning the volume down. "Sorry, I love Black Sabbath."

"Obviously," Helga said dryly, seeing that she was left with the bed on the left. That was fine, whatever. She could see already that Gladys was making herself at home. Posters of various rock and metal bands were going up, her CD rack was already loaded, and she had already hung up her clothes in the shared closet.

"I know, right?" Gladys said. "Shared closet. I hope you don't smoke."

"No, no I don't smoke," Helga said, placing her suitcase on the spare bed, and dropping her backpack on the floor. "So . . ."

"So," Gladys said, smiling and putting her hands behind her back.

They both awkwardly stood there, smiling at each other, not knowing what else to say or do.

…

There were naturally teething problems living with Gladys, though that was all fixed when they moved into the Sorority House. Helga's outgoing nature had encouraged Gladys, and although she wasn't Miranda Kerr, she had dropped a few pounds. Helga had needed to work out to avoid the dreaded Freshman five. But Gladys was already on a diet."I promised myself I would eat better," she told Helga one night.

"Eating betters great, but you should exercise as well," Helga pointed out. "Makes you feel good."

"Yeah . . . What is up with you up first thing in the morning running?"

Gladys and Helga became best friends on campus doing as much as they could. Turns out Gladys was quite the party girl. More often than not Helga would hold the girls hair while she had her head in the toilet. It was some unwritten rule that if it was your roommate, you had to look after them.

Gladys returned the favour a few times, though not because Helga was drunk. Helga had gotten a stomach bug "from that teachers brat I'll bet". Gladys had caught it as well, so the two girls had bonded during that time.

The third and fourth year went as well as could be expected. She had a gallery event in her fourth year and had sold some paintings.

"I can't believe it!" Gladys had squealed.

It was that night that she had met Darius. He was a student from another University, studying Law. Helga was happy for her friend, and even happier when the relationship went from strength to strength.

During her time at college, Helga found a job in a book and art supply's store. Life was good.

Then it was over. She was set loose on the world.

Helga put her sales money in the bank, but had cautiously looked around at houses and apartments.

"Go for an apartment," Darius advised. "They're closer to town, so even if at a later date you decide to move to the suburbs, you can borrow against the apartment and keep it as a rental."

Helga nodded, and had his best friend help her through the process. And had a fling with him while she was at it. Flings. They were fun. She had them through college, and afterwards. They were the perfect "relationships". They started well, ended well. There was no real stress, serious fights, splitting up of assets.

Two years after leaving college, Gladys came over. Phoebe was over this particular day, and although Gladys and Phoebe had heard of each other and seen pictures of each other, they had never actually met in person. Helga was a bit worried for a moment, while they sized each other up. Then Gladys turned to Helga with a big smile, held up her had and screamed "I'm engaged!"

Helga screamed, Gladys screamed, then they hugged and jumped around like loons.

"Congratulations," Phoebe said, smiling.

"We should celebrate!" Gladys announced.

And they did. Helga flirted and Gladys and Phoebe got to know one another better.

"I'm off," Helga said. She handed Gladys a piece of paper that had a name, address and phone number on it, then sent her a picture of the guy she was leaving with. "See you tomorrow. Unless, of course he's a killer or something. If I don't come back, I love you and wish you all the best!"

Then she was gone. It was an okay night, but early in the morning she did her usual. Snuck out and caught a taxi home. She had given the guy a false name, and had made sure he lived far enough away that they would have a very, very slim chance of bumping into one another again.

Entering her home she threw her shoes in a corner and went to the kitchen to get some breakfast, and answered her ringing phone.

"Talk," Helga said, opening a carton of juice and drinking from it.

"Hey Helga. It's Darius."

"Hey man, what's up?" she asked, kicking the fridge door closed with her foot and getting out a frying pan. Dammit! Should have gotten something on the way home.

"I have a favour to ask of you," he said.

"Sure thing," she said, ripping open a packet of bacon and putting the pieces in the frying pan.

"I want to commission painting."

…

She had never been shy around naked men. When she was nine she had seen her first naked male. During classes, and some other private commissions and projects, she had painted naked men (and had a few affairs while she was at it). She had even painted a gay couple in her last year of university. It had been odd at first, and a little unsettling, but she pushed her feelings aside and entered her art-mind and by the end of it, after getting to know them, her discomfort passed. They were now good friends and planning their wedding. Helga had the invite on her fridge.

University had opened her eyes to so many different things, leaving it even more. She did a bit of travelling during and after leaving University, visiting Ireland, United Kingdom, France, Spain and Portugal. Her second visit was Italy, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Belgium, and the Netherlands. Mostly back packing with some friends from Uni. She made friends, and sold some art, which helped her continue to travel, and soaked up the atmosphere. Her next trip, she was already planning, was finishing off her European adventure with Denmark, Norway, Sweden and Finland. A cousin of her fathers had offered to sponsor her if she decided to travel to Russia. She had thanked them, but had decided to keep Russia for a completely separate trip. It was a big country, and she wanted to enjoy it. She couldn't see herself doing that and travelling elsewhere. She had that planned out as well. Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, and Slovania

She also wanted to find someone to travel with.

"So where are you going next?" Darius asked her that day. It had been strange at first, watching her best friends man strip down to nothing. It was the first time she was embarrassed and flustered. She felt terrible, like she was cheating on her best friend or something. But eventually she started to see him as just another man.

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"Come on, Helga. You disappear every year into Europe," Darius said, rolling his eyes. "So where to this time? Can't be too many nooks and crannies you haven't explored."

"Oh contrair," she said. "Russia, Belarus, Ukraine, Moldova, Romania, Bulgaria-"

"Okay, okay, I stand corrected," he said, holding his hands up. "But seriously, where are you going next?"

"Denmark, Norway, Sweden and Finland," she finally answered. Middle of the year though. I'm not keen on travelling around there during winter. Made that mistake once. Never again."

She watched him get himself settled, then did her breathing excersises to get herself into "the Zone".

"Would you holiday in Italy for a honeymoon?" Darius asked.

"Stop breaking my concentration, you sexy beast!" Helga teased.

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up.

"Helga did her breathing then started to paint, picking up where she had left off. She had gotten it all ready before he had come, so as to be able to just get right into it.

"What's wrong, Helga babe?" he asked.

Helga looked away from the painting.

"I need some fun, some excitement. I need a lover-"

Bang, bang, bang.

Both of them looked at the door in shock.

"I'll be back in a sec," she said, placing her paints on her stool, while Darius hurried to put his pants on, at least. Imagine if it was Gladys! What would she think?

"Oh my God!" he heard Helga exclaim.

"Heya Hell Girl," he heard a voice reply. It was male, so not Gladys. He looked out to see a tall, trim, football headed, blonde man, dressed like he was about to be married, but hadn't quite made it. His hair was everywhere, his tie undone, looking out of breath. He entered the apartment, looking around and, seeing the couch, made his way over. "Nice place."

"Football Head? What are you doing here?" Helga asked, looking stunned."Well, I happened to be in the neighbourhood and thought to myself, 'You know who you haven't seen in a while? Helga.' So here I am," he told her smiling.

"Dude, you look like you're getting married," Darius finally spoke up. The man turned around on his heel and smiled at him.

"About three hours ago I was," he said.

"What happened?" Helga asked curiously. "And why are you here?"

"Cold feet, and I need to lay low for a while," he said. "Mind if I stay here?"

"Here?" Helga asked. "What? How did you even find here?"

"I looked you up in Phoebe's phonebook, matched your number to name in the phone book and voila! Helga Pataki, 779-"

"I know my address!" she snapped.

"Hey, how about we finish this tomorrow?" Darius said suddenly. There was some weird mojo going on between these two, and it was making him feel uncomfortable and like an intruder.

"What?" Helga asked, breaking eye contact with Arnold and looking over at him. "Oh, um, yeah. I'll see you and Glady's tonight though."

"Alright, see you then," he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. He nodded at Arnold and left, closing the door behind him. That was weird.

…

"Boyfriend?" Arnold asked, walking over to the couch and sitting down.

"No," she said, not giving anymore away. Who did Arnold think he was, walking into her apartment like he owned it? "Please. Make yourself at home."

"Does that mean I can stay?" he asked.

"Do you have a job?" she asked. "Cause I'm not going to support a bum."

Arnold nodded, looking her over. She had improved. A lot.

"Fine, a hundred for my spare room, split the bills, and no strangers," she told him. "This is too bizarre."

Helga dropped down on the couch next to him.

"Tell me about it," he added. "A few hours ago I was getting married!"

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"Saw her fucking Gerald in the bathroom," he told her.

"Aren't you mad? I'd be screaming murder! No, I'd just go straight to murder, no screaming. Wouldn't want to bring witnesses," Helga said.

"Well, I'm not completely innocent," Arnold said.

"What do you mean?" Helga asked. Arnold shrugged.

"I spent last night with her maid-of-honour."

…

…

(Arnold's prologue is next. Working on it. Wish me luck lol)