Hello hi! So I redid this chapter and the whole plot has changed radically too. Hopefully this reads better and Please let me know what you think, and I shall get started on the next chapter! :)

The café looks super expensive. It's nice, a kind of cosy, warm, homey sort of café. But expensive. The ceiling is low, with shiny chandeliers hanging majestically from it to softly illuminate the room. Wood. Everything is made from a red coloured wood; it appears glossy from the light.

This mild summer Saturday morning brings a drizzle of people in around the café, and there is a slight murmur of people's conversations above the tranquil music playing. The music is familiar, Sleeping At Last sings about turning pages. This place not intimidating at all, for an expensive restaurant. I could definitely get used to being here. The only thing that could ruin this experience is-

"Hey, Felia? When will this shrink show up?" My brother leans and whispers harshly to me in Italian.

"Lovino, be patient." Grandpapa warns, glaring at him. "Take time to appreciate this little wonder here! We've never dined out so nicely before."

"Grandpapa, we are only having coffee here." I remind him. "I don't think this, uh, lady is willing to pay for the meals as well."

"We can only hope, Feliciana." Grandpapa winks at me. Lovino groans and I giggle nervously. As much as I enjoy such a lovely place, I want this to be over.

My grandpapa, brother and I were invited out for coffee by my new psychologist, to 'get acquaintance with each other' before my first session. So she seems nice. But I am very nervous, my stomach is twisting in sickening knots, my heart is drumming too quickly and my palms so sweaty. I breathe out shakily. What if she turns out like the last 'psychologist'?

"Hey, it will be over soon. Try to relax." Grandpapa rubs my shoulder. I try to smile up at him. I'm so glad I've got him here to support me. But he can only help so much.

It was a little while after that when I heard my name.

"Feliciana Vargas?" I glance up to see a pretty middle aged woman. Her voice is heavily accented yet not Australian, which is what I was expecting. Assessing her quickly, I decide she looks friendly enough. Dressed in a white sleeveless button-down blouse, black pencil skirt and silver open-toed heels, her tanned skin, golden-brown ringlets for hair, and emerald eyes, this woman reminds me of a richly coloured Impressionismpainting, donned heavily with silver jewellery around her neck and wrists.

My mind goes into instant panic. Oh god this is it.

Trying not to lose the little balance I have, I stand up and hold out my hand and try to smile. "Yes, that is me." I say in English.

She takes my hand and smiles warmly, but I don't miss the way her bespectacled eyes flit up and down me. I wonder what she sees.

"Sorry for being a little behind time. My son-" she gestures to the young man beside her, "-somehow flattened our car battery. This is Antonio." She and Antonia greet Grandpapa and Lovino. He certainly gets his gorgeous looks from her: tanned skin, green irises, strong build, wild hair. Also the taste in classy clothes, apparently. He looks a lot more open and genuine and happy, but why is he here as well? I wasn't prepared for another person to have to put up with-

"So, your accent, you are not from here either?" Grandpapa asks politely as we sit. Antonio places himself next to Lovino and grins happily. Lovino just blushes and glares at the table. Despite the situation, a grin snags at my lips and I bite it back. While I may be nervous around people, Lovino just hates it. Hates the effort of talking to people. This should be interesting.

"True, we are Spanish." Marie answers pleasantly. Ah, that explains the accent. "You are Italian?"

Grandpapa nods. "Most certainly."

"So, what brings you and your grandchildren to Australia then?" she queries. I breathe in sharply and my stomach flips dangerously. Of course this question comes up. It does every time. You'd think I would get used to the bitter taste of why, it's been said so often. But the bitter taste that is panic and guilt is just as strong and venomous as always.

Oh, I shouldn't have eaten breakfast this morning. The need to throw up causes my mouth to fill with saliva and my legs to shake.

I go to stand quickly, but Lovino snatches my arm.

"Don't." He whispers.

Grandpapa clears his throat. "Well, we moved from Italy about, uh, six years ago." He looks slightly uncomfortable. I fidget in my seat and snatch my arm back.

"Hmm. I see. Well, I think it's time for our coffee. This place makes the loveliest drinks. My shout. Antonio, would you kindly get our drinks for us?" She turns to me and Lovino. "What would you two like?"

"Oh, no no. Lovino knows what we like. He can go help Antonio." He looks sternly at Lovi before he can protest. Of course, he does so anyway.

"But why should I?"

"Lovino," I mutter before Grandpapa can get angry. "Please." He stares at me for a few seconds, and I know he knows, that I kinda need to be alone with this. Lovino huffs and stalks to the counter. Antonio smiles and leaps up after him.

Marie turns to me and smiles reassuringly. "Well, then. Feliciana, we will have plenty of time to get to know each other. But please relax. This is simply a coffee meet up. I'm not going to be asking anything of you today. Okay?" she blinks down at me. I nod, only feeling slightly reassured. I want to tell her to just call me Felia, but I trust myself to only be able to squeak at this point.

She winks, and turns to Grandpapa.

"So, you like it here in Australia, yes? And what do you do?"

Grandpapa grins. "I am a farmer." Marie seems to lap this up, pouncing on information like its gold.

"Well, what's that like?"

This continues on and on, bombarding him with questions, and while she makes some comments toward me, she never actually asks me anything. When Lovino and Antonio return, Marie attempts to interrogate my brother. While Lovi hates it, he of course has learnt the art of good manners, and while he may glare at the table and blush in frustration, he answers Marie's insane probing. I don't understand, but I don't care. Sipping on my hot chocolate (Which is AMAZING and cover me in hot chocolate naked any day), I listen contently as the chatter swirls around me, but doesn't pull me in.

On the drive home, I was feeling cautiously positive. Yes, I could do this. My first appointment is on Wednesday. I'm not as scared now that I know her. And it gives me an excuse to speak more English too, usually I am non-stop speaking in Italian because I am always non-stop talking to Lovino and Grandpapa. The happy feeling explains my word vomit that occurs for most of the trip back to my place.

"Hey, Lovi. Antonio was really nice, wasn't he? I think you two should be friends. That would be great, because he was so nice and friendly and could be a good influence on you and when you guys come visit me during the holidays you could have a friend here already which would be good so if you have friends maybe then you could invite them over to play X Box with you instead of bugging me all the time when I am practicing guitar, hey do you want to go for a walk when we get home and explore? It seems like a nice place where we live…" I blabber on, ignoring Lovi's sighs and mutters telling me to shut up.

Lovino and Grandpapa are staying with me in this new house in this new city for a couple of days for me to settle in, then they will be going back home to the little country town. I have moved into a share house, which means that other students will be moving in at some point. I'm very nervous about the people who will move in. Will they be nice? What if they are… unaccepting?

For the second time today, my stomach turns inside out. I stop talking, and silently stress. I begin my undergraduate Bachelor of Visual Arts degree next week. This is the whole reason why I moved from the little country town seven hours away to be here. At least I am not here by myself right now. I would've been completely lost without Lovino and Grandpapa. Yes, I will be okay as long as they are with me. I'll figure the rest out.

We three have been together since I was twelve, when we moved to Australia together, ever since…

Today is the second day since I moved to the city. It has definitely been a new experience. Lovino constantly grumbles about missing the trees and hills and the farm work, and I feel so bad that I had to make everyone take another big step away from familiarity. It's always my fault. But at the same time, I don't want them to be leaving me here. It just proves how selfish I am.

Always. I was the reason why we had to flee our country to this foreign land. And now this…

"Felia, stop it." Lovino growls. I glance at him in the front passenger seat. He has twisted around to face me.

"Stop what?" I try my innocent face. He just glares.

"I know that face. Stop it. We don't mind this. Stop thinking like that."

Easier said than done.

"Okay, sorry." I say weakly.

He sighs and turns back in his seat so he faces the front. "There is nothing you need to be sorry for." He mumbles. Grandpapa remains silent.

As we turn down the street, the girl with heaps of dogs is walking around again. I always see her, every day, walking at least five dogs, up our street. I'm not actually sure where abouts she lives, though. I've been trying to find an excuse to talk to her, but never come up with any. I wave at her as we drive pass. She nods back.

If Marie is an Impressionism painting, then Dog Girl is a Cubism sculpture. Made from steel or stone, probably. Then again, that is just based on her appearance. She may have the personality of Futurist poems, who knows. And thinking about it, now I desperately want to know, I want to know what her voice sounds like, her laugh, her smile.

She is tall, and beautiful. Short blonde hair, palish skin and bright blue eyes, she is built like a tank. Quite the opposite of my long red-brown wavy hair (with that stupid one curl that is always sticking out), medium height, far too skinny body with too long limbs, terra cotta eyes and olive complexion.

Again, I can only make assessments based on what she looks like. Who knows, we could be similar.

I snort, she looks way too strong to be anything like me. I bet she is fearless.

But her expression is always slightly worried. I wonder, would she be my friend or…?

Today she is wearing her trademark dark green jacket that's tied at her waist, black singlet, and dark sweatpants and combat boots. Very contrasting to the light blue sundress I wear.

Maybe I'll offer her water next time? No, that would be a bit weird.

As we pull into our drive way, Grandpapa clears his throat.

"Felia, if you-" he is cut off by his ringtone. He shuts off the car and looks at the caller I.D. He mutters something under his breath and answers in English. Lovino huffs and scrambles out of the car. I quickly follow, leaving Grandpapa behind. I wonder what he was going to say to me.

The share house is really nice and big. It can hold up to six tenants, three on the top floor and three on the bottom. I live on the top floor. So far, I am the only tenant here. Which is why Lovino and Grandpapa are able to get away with sleeping in the lounge room.

"Hurry up and unlock the door, Felia!" Lovino grumbles.

"O-Oh! Sorry Lovi!" I scramble to dig the house keys out of my pocket. "I was just dazing off, sorry!"

"It's fine, jeez." He mutters as I push the door open. He storms inside and takes the stairs two at a time. I blink in surprise and cautiously follow him. He has always been abrupt, but that threw me off. What's eating at him?

As I reach the top of the stairs, I can see Lovino pulling off the blankets from the couch.

"Um, Lovi? You're still staying another couple of nights, aren't you?" Suspicion is replaced by fear. He slowly looks at me.

"I saw who called Grandpapa. It was the Boss from the farm. You know what that means, right?" he says without emotion.

"No."

"Yes, you do. You know he only calls when he needs Grandpapa. And you knew it was a possibility that we would have to leave earlier than planned because of that."

"No." I say again. The word feels weak though, it breaks easily under Lovino's strong conviction. "It could be different. Maybe you saw wrong."

"Please, Felia. I don't want to leave you here either. But you know how frequent Grandpapa gets called to work on his days off. And I don't think he would leave you here if he thought you couldn't handle it."

I shake my head. Grandpapa will come in, saying that his friend just called him to complain about the terrible service at the local pub again, and that I should start cooking lunch for everyone. Yes, Lovino is wrong.

The fear has settled in my stomach anyway, cold and heavy.

"Felia…"

"That was the Boss." Grandpapa announces grimly as he walks in. The floor seems to drop away from my feet. Grandpapa puts a firm hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry, but we will need to leave in a few hours."

In Australia, the start of the year is in summer. This evening is rather hot and dry, making my emotional state worse. I sit under a small tree in the backyard, playing soft tunes on my guitar while trying to stop myself crying. I'm failing quite a bit.

Lovi gives me one of his rare special hugs.

"Please, PLEASE, look after yourself. I'm a phone call away, okay? Call me every night if you have to, I don't mind."

Grandpapa smiles encouragingly at me as he pulls me in a not so rare, but equally special hug.

"You've got this Felia. I'm so proud, you should be too. We'll come to visit, I promise."

All too soon, they are gone, and I am alone.

I groan and hit my head against the tree as another sob wreaks though me. I hope someone else moves in this house soon. Anyone, just so I am not alone. I don't like being alone.

Focusing all my energy on this guitar, I play louder. For tonight, music will have to be my company.

I don't know what to do with myself today. So I end up doing the same as yesterday, the first time in this big house alone. Still in my pyjamas, I sit at the counter along the kitchen, eating eggs and toast. It's around 11'oclock, and that's when I hear the mailman pull away from my house (home, it's my home now). Scoffing the last bit of toast, I leap away from my chair and make my way downstairs and out the door.

Maybe I should get on a bus and explore? No, I would get lost too easily. Maybe I should take a look around the University? I don't have the excuse of it being the weekend to not do anything now.

The mail I received was nothing interesting. Just a letter to once again congratulate me on my course and all the benefits of the University life and how to organise your time wisely, and junk mail. I turn to make my way back inside when I hear a cry.

"Beau, Erhalten Sie hier Zurück!"

I turn to see what caused the shout, but I am faced with a golden ball of fur launching itself at me. I squeal as the large-ish dog bounds up and knocks me backward. The world tips upside down and I am facing the sky.

"Oomph! Huh, what?" I flail against the grass along the nature-strip as the dog starts licking furiously at my face. I giggle as I try to push him off me.

"Beau! I am so sorry! Nein, Beau!" The voice is closer now, but I can't quite see who it belongs to. A hand quickly snatches the dog's collar and drags him off me. I wipe my face with my sleeve and try to stop the nervous giggling. The hand then extends out to me. I take it, and am flung upright rather dizzyingly.

"Whoa, uh, thanks for that." I giggle nervously in what I hope is English and turn to see her.

The beautiful dog girl. She is even more tall and beautiful up close and her eyes are so blue wow it's so cliché but I have never seen such blue eyes. There's a thin silver chain around her neck, attached to it a couple of those dog tags you see soldiers wear but this has strange symbols on it-

Dog Girl appears to be even more concerned than usual.

"Please, I am so so sorry! He gets so over friendly sometimes, but I should've been able to stop that! Are you hurt?" Her voice is deep yet soft, and also heavily accented.

"Hey, are you German?" I blurt out. I quickly slap my hand on my mouth after that. Trust me to just talk without thinking. The girl blinks in surprise.

"Uh, ja. That's right."

"Hello! Well, don't worry about the dog, it's totally fine. I'm not hurt at all." I grin, still embarrassed, but hoping to put her to ease. She looked almost in tears, the poor girl.

"Um, okay. Good, but I'm still very sorry. And, you don't sound like you're from here…?"

"Italian." I say, winking. She blushes.

"Um, sorry. I'm terrible with accents. Uh, I-I am Monika. You've just moved here, ja?" She holds all the dog leashes in one hand and holds out the other. I take it willingly. Her hand is so warm.

"Yes. I am Feliciana. And I am very pleased to meet you."

"Well, Feliciana, um, is there any way I can make this up to you? Please?" She looks down at the ground, still looking uncomfortable. "If you want."

"Actually, I would very much appreciate being shown around!" I say ecstatically. "I have been a little too nervous to go exploring, but I really probably should coz I need to be able to find my way- um I mean, please show me around?" I try out a shy grin, too giddy for embarrassment over the word vomit.

She- Monika blinks slowly at me, and a small smile graces her mouth, and God how did I miss how good her mouth looks.

"S-sure, yeah that will be fine. Um, where about would you like to go?" her smile turns more genuine.

"The University, perhaps? I start there next week." I suggest breathlessly. "I know its nearby, but isn't it also very big and easy to get lost in? That's what I heard, anyway."

She chuckles throatily. "Ja, I can help you with that." Then, blushing, she adds, "Um, I can wait here if you want to get changed?" her intense gaze flickers to my pyjamas, and her blush deepens.

I wink, and run inside again. Oh, my heart is so loud! But, now I know the beauty's name. And now I get a day with her. I grin. Already, things are starting to look hopeful.

"Beau is a rather French name, isn't it?" I ask. The dog in question has his head in my lap as I am treating him to scratches and pats. Monika and I sit at a bench in a nice little park nestled near the Humanities building, enjoying the refreshing shade of a nearby tree. I am utterly spent. Monika has shown me the University campus, and it is huge with lots of stairs and hills. Then she showed me the path she usually takes when she walks all of the dogs.

"Beau is, uh, was Francis's dog. He is too 'preoccupied' to walk him, so he gave him to me, like as he always passes off responsibility. But I do not mind." She replies softly.

Despite how tired I am from walking, I have loved every second of it. Every little bit of information she divulges about herself is treasured knowledge, as if her words are cool water and I am so parched. I guess that's what happens after spending so long being socially deprived.

I have learnt that she lives with her older (non-binary) sibling Gil and their two other friends, Francis and Antonio. I was happily shocked to be able to recognise that it was the same Antonio I met yesterday…

Monika and Gil's grandfather is still in Germany, but will be planning to visit soon. Monika is very excited to see him again. But she also misses her country. The only reason she came to Australia was because of Gil and their two friends wanted to stay together always, so when Antonio's mother decided to be a psychologist based here, Francis and Gil moved as well. Monika was told to keep an eye on Gil, to keep them out of serious trouble.

She had smiled sadly when she told me this. She said while she did try to keep them out of mischief, it was Gil who took care of her.

She had gotten really quiet after that.

In turn, I talked plenty about Grandpa and Lovino, about the little town we grew to call home, about grandpa's work, the pets we have, and eventually, about my art degree that I am starting.

"Monika, what are the other dogs' names? What kind of dogs are they?" I ask her now. I sneak another glance at her, at her face, her neck, those eyes…

She seems to glow from within whenever the topic turns to dogs. "Well," she says brightly, "Beau is a Labrador. Francis got him in repayment for… um, 'helping' someone." She blushes brightly and quickly glances at me. She then pulls the smallest dog into her lap. "The other golden retriever is one of mine. Aster, he was a birthday present from Gil. I have had him for a while. Also, the German Sheppard and the Doberman are mine, they are Blackie and Berlitz. And this one here," she cuddles the dog in her lap, "is one I am looking after. This is Mars. She is a Jack Russel Terroir." She smiles at me warmly. "I love my dogs. They are my life."

Her expression and words are heavy with passion. It feels me with a strange warmth, how such an intimidating looking person could have such an innocent and simple love. I beam back at her. For once in my life, I have no desire to say anything, just to enjoy the pure emotion that needs no words. Her passion is something I can relate to, I feel the same way about art. But the way she expresses herself through something like this. I remember thinking that she was a Cubism sculpture, a solid form of stone that has defined faces and clear planes. All sides visible. But now that I have met her, I don't know what she is. Definitely not Cubism. Monika is reserved, not open at all, yet not hidden. But she isn't Impressionist either, she is too solid in her existence for that. Maybe she is Surrealism, seemingly outlandish and foreign in her swirl of deep, dark colours, but really hiding deep meaning and realistic groundings. I just don't know her well enough.

But Surrealism she is. Until I get a better interpretation of her.

"Anyway," she blushes and looks away. "Sorry."

Another thing I have learnt about Monika, she constantly apologises. Whenever she thinks that she has said something annoying or pointless, she is quick to stutter out a string of words and retreat back into herself. It makes me wonder, what caused her to be this closed off?

She clears her throat, and appears to force a smile on her face. "Well, we have been walking around for quite a while now, are you hungry?"

I grin up at her, but the thought of food seems to be a little too much.

"Absolutely!"

After a lot more walking, and attempting to tie up all the dogs up outside on a pole, we manage to sit and order at a vintage-styled bakery on the University campus. We are seated close to the air conditioner, as the weather is really starting to heat up. I gulp down on my lemonade as Monika takes a small sip from her Ginger Beer, like she is too afraid to disturb the air by her movements. Frowning, I look away, knowing all too well the signs of anxiety. I decide to focus on the artworks hanging around the café. Not really my type, they are pop culture pieces, cartoon portraiture of Marilyn Monroe and bright photographs of olden styled cars. Each to their own, I guess.

"Are you studying here at the Uni?" I ask, turning to her as I take another drag of sweet, sweet lemonade. I have developed an appreciation for all drinks, but the sad truth is because drinks were my main diet for so long. Even now, food is a bit of a stretch, but I can now start to keep it down, most of the time….

"Nein, uh, I mean no, sorry. We live close by though. Gil goes here. They're studying performance arts, so I guess the two of you will be running into each other a lot."

"Is the art department close to the drama one?"

"The very same building, actually. After lunch, I can show you if you like."

"Yes, that would be great, grazie!" I squawk, and Monika laughs nervously. The waiter comes with our meals then.

"Toasted sandwich with tomato, cheese and ham?" he says politely, in that Australian scrawl that even after six years, I can never get used to. I smile up at him, and gosh is it possible to have that many freckles on one face. He's cute, in a puppy dog way. He would be interesting to draw, I think. The freckles would give a really cool tone to the skin.

"Mine, thanks cameriere." I slide my drink out of the way as he places my toastie down in front of me. He turns to Monika.

"And yours is the Sheppard's pie?" She nods with a small, strained smile, and I wonder how much effort it has taken her to talk to me for this long. Guilt, the familiar poison, it thickens my blood and suddenly the sandwich in front of me looks revolting. The waiter places the pie down and walks off, carrying my voice with him. I can't believe I made her show me around when clearly something is wrong.

Ugh I hate myself. Always so selfish.

A twitch catches my attention. Monika's hand itches for her fork, but I know she is waiting for me to eat. It's how anxiety works. You can't do anything unless you have permission to do so. It's the fear of messing up, of doing something wrong.

So, ignoring my queasiness, I muster up my former enthusiasm, pick up half of my toastie, and take a bite. It's warm and yum, but the tightness in my throat makes me scared to swallow.

But I glance up, and I catch the subtle signature of relief in the way Monika seems to lean forward and reach her fork with ease. If it makes it easier for her, I swear I will finish this whole sandwich.

I swear I will help ease her back into whatever it is she is scared of.

Lunch started quiet.

Her: probably thinking, tangled by nerves to strike up a conversation. Maybe it's all the people.

Me: definitely thinking about how I can try to reach out to this girl. I still can't figure out what she is, but I think she is definitely a sculpture of some sort. But I can't expect to know every fine rendering of her after just one day. No, the artwork that is Monika needs a lot of time to be studied and appreciated carefully.

At the moment, she has a shell of glass, coloured in a way that looks sturdy and not see through, but actually so fragile. I just need to be patient in chipping this outer layer off, and not go too deep to fast.

But god do I want to know. There is something there, I can catch a gleam of it when she laughs openly, or speaks of her dogs.

But then there is a problem.

I want to invest all this time on her, but the only reason we have today together is because of her 'debt'. Will she even want to see me again?

Monika coughs lightly into her hand, sucking me back to earth. I glance up to meet her gaze, those cosmic blue eyes widen as she blushes.

"Sorry to interrupt your thinking, but the way you were glaring at your plate. Are you okay?" She fiddles with the salt shaker and maintains eye contact. I wonder if her heart is racing.

I giggle nervously. "Sorry, just thinking. There is just a lot to take in, I'm rather overwhelmed! Haha." I grin, trying to say don't stress, I know, and it is okay.

We don't seem to have this telepathy thing yet, but she smiles anyway. I take her empty plate and stake it on mine. We go up to the counter, pay, and leave.

Stepping outside is painful, it's just so hot. The glare of then sun makes me realise that sunglasses are necessary for survival. I will have to buy some soon. Shading my eyes with my hand, I turn to Monika. She winces as she blinks back against the harsh sun.

"I hope the poor doggies are okay." I sigh as they all just about turn inside out at seeing us. Monika giggles and the sound sends shivers down my torso as she bends down to untie them.

"Yes, this weather is not friendly at all. They must be thirsty. Um, Feliciana? I-can I please make a suggestion?" She stands up so suddenly and so close to me I can smell Lynx chocolate body spray and I can see that she has multiple piercings in each of her ears.

Let me be the first to say, there is something incredibly attractive about boys and girls and humans with piercings. My weak spot.

"U-um, sure you can. Of course." I murmur, still reeling in at how close she is. Looking pointedly determined, she allows herself a small smile.

"It is very hot at the moment, why don't we continue the tour this evening when its cooler? If, uh, that's okay with you, of course."

I smile, but I deflate a little inside. "Of course that is fine."

"Okay. Well, we can head back to my place and show you around the city while in the cool, air conditioned, comfort in my car, if you would like? I g-guess you don't have a bus card yet?" she blushes and starts to fidget, so I jump in for the kill before she starts to backtrack.

"Oh, gosh, I would love to!" I gush. More time spent with this mysterious warrior of a girl is time well spent.

And then I feel something cold and wet on my hand. Glancing down, I meet with Aster's light brown puppy eyes.

The way he looks at me is knowing.

He looks up at me, smiles slowly and winks.

Deliberately.

Ta da! This is a lot better than the original chapter, fingers crossed I can keep this up. Hope you enjoyed reading!