Disclaimer: The characters of Tristan DuGrey, Jess, Rory Gilmore, and any other characters portrayed in the television series "Gilmore Girls" do not belong to me. They are the property of the WB, Amy Sherman-Palladino and affiliates.
Author's Note: So Tristan and Jess wouldn't leave me alone, and I finally gave in to them.
In the Beginning
It started with a book: The Crazy Iris and Other Stories of the Atomic Aftermath edited by Kenzaburo Oe. Tristan had entered the local Barnes & Noble and through the weaving and inter-crossing, as he navigated the sea of people, he bumped into another person. There was the awkward moment of fumbling and profuse apology. His unfortunate victim, dressed in jeans and an army shirt, brushed off Tristan's offer for help. Instead the spiky-haired brunette glared, clutching onto a familiar paperback with a sketch of a purple iris on the cover. The word 'idiot' was distinctively muttered and Tristan straightened to his full height, over-towering the pip-squeak of a man by a good few inches. They stood glaring at one another; a standoff near the cookery section of Barnes & Noble. An elderly lady, who had been casually perusing the shelves for a nice chocolate cake recipe for her granddaughter, stopped to gawk at the spectacle. She admired their impressive forms and wished herself a few decades younger, then contemplated on how one of these nice young men might make a better present for said granddaughter; a few minutes later the chocolate cake won out. Finally the dark-haired boy pushed pass Tristan and that was the end of that. Or so Tristan thought. Upon arriving at the correct bookshelf, he discovered that it was bare, at least in regards to The Crazy Iris. When he made inquiries, it was to his chagrin that he learnt that the one and only copy the bookstore held had just been sold, and would he like to place an order.
"You've got to be kidding me," he cursed and glared outside, where Tristan knew that some obnoxious guy now possessed his rightful copy of Kenzaburo Oe's anthology of short stories.
Next, it was a cheesecake. But make no mistake; this was no ordinary cheesecake. This was a luscious, creamy cheesecake, not overly rich, containing the perfect balance of sweet and tangy, not to mention the sumptuous, juicy blueberries hidden within its depths. This was the type of cheesecake a man would kill for, which was precisely what Jess was contemplating having discovered that the café had just sold out. The offender, who had stolen the last piece, was that blonde-haired, blue-eyed snot from Barnes & Noble. A pretentious, trust fund baby who expected the world to fall at his feet; Jess could recognize the kind. Annoyingly he had to settle for an inferior cheesecake, but on a revengeful whimsy deliberately sat opposite the snot. Taking out the book he had purchased a few hours ago, Jess used it as a front to shoot evil daggers at the blonde who was enjoying his cheesecake way too much. And when the rich kid began talking on his cell, Jess made a point of creating as much noise as possible: coughing fits, banging his plate and tapping incessantly on the table with his spoon. It was petty. It was immature. It was almost as delicious as the cheesecake would have been.
The third thing was a bottle of water. Later that night, from the opposite ends of the aisle, they had both headed, not noticing the other. Simultaneously they had reached out to grab the same bottle of water; their heads turned, their eyes met and that was it.
"Back off," growled Tristan, his hands clutching onto the bottle as Jess tried to snatch it away from him.
"I was here first, preppy. That bottle is mine," Jess claimed.
"In your dreams. I reached for it first. Why don't you choose another bottle?"
"Because that one is mine. Besides, what do you need that bottle of water for? Shouldn't your water be some fancy spring water delivered from one of the European Alps? Isn't this a little too mundane for you?"
"I buy American."
"Funny," Jess scanned the blonde's clothes with a look of disdain, "I thought Armani was Italian."
Tristan smirked, "It is. I buy American water. However, if it appeases your sense of patriotism, I also buy Calvin Klein and Tommy Hilfiger."
"Wow, I'm impressed and overwhelmed by your demonstration of national loyalty. You should win an award. Still, that bottle of water is mine."
"Not while I have a hold of it," disputed Tristan, "Possession is nine-tenths of the law."
"It figures that you would be a law student."
"I never said I was," pointed out Tristan, "The possession thing is a common saying."
Jess' eyes narrowed shrewdly, "You're a law student anyway, aren't you?"
"So?"
"Nothing, I'm just saying."
"Nope. You were making a point."
"Was I? You can't prove it." Jess smirked; his own crooked grin.
"Well, at least I have a future and some direction."
"Like I would want your future," scoffed Jess. "Besides, how do you know that I don't have a future and some direction, as you so aptly put it?"
"Oh yes," sneered Tristan, "You're a future Rhodes scholar and Nobel Prize winner. I mean with that great personality of yours, I can see all those job offers and opportunities."
"My teachers always said I had great potential," quipped Jess.
"For jail. Just keep in mind that if you ever need a lawyer, don't come to me. Although, I'll be sure to point you in the right direction for the worse public defender in the city."
"I'm always overwhelmed by the humanitarian side of the wealthy. Your charity overwhelms me."
"Meanwhile, I'm astounded over the fact that you have the ability to construct coherent sentences," Tristan mockingly marveled.
"Y'know, I think it is about time we go outside and speak with our fists."
"Jess? Tristan?" A brunette with blue eyes interrupted. "Is it really the two of you? I didn't realize you knew one another."
"We don't." They replied simultaneously, turned and glared at the other, before returning to face the girl before them with winning smiles on both their faces.
"Oh. Well, isn't that strange? Funny. It is such a small world. Imagine bumping into two of my ex-boyfriends in a convenient store. And I was just thinking of you both recently. How have you been?"
"Fine," they both started to say together until Tristan stopped, letting Jess say the word and then echoing the sentiment after.
"So, I just came in here to get a bottle of water. My current boyfriend, Carmine, is waiting for me. But it was so nice seeing the two of you. We must do this again."
"Yes, we must." Jess gave a fake smile as he lied through his teeth.
"Why don't you take my bottle of water," Tristan offered, pushing the brunette towards the cashier.
"Oh! That's so nice of you, Tristan. You were always so considerate and charming. Not to say that you weren't, Jess. Both of you were such great boyfriends. It's such a pity that it didn't work out with either one of you. But on the up side I have Carmine now."
"Yes. Yes, you do." Tristan nodded emphatically.
"And isn't he waiting for you?" Jess pointed out.
"Oh my! Yes he is. I mustn't keep the poor boy waiting. Sorry to just dash out like this."
"Oh, we don't mind," both Jess and Tristan said.
"Well, toodles." The brunette gave a cheery wave and headed to the cashier before exiting the store.
"Toodles? Carmine? Good grief. What was I thinking?" Tristan wondered out loud.
"I know exactly what you mean," commiserated Jess.
"Not to say that Sarah is a bad person, she's just-"
"I know. Definitely not one of my better judgments. I'm not sure how I lasted three weeks with her."
"You lasted three weeks?" Tristan marveled. "Man, I applaud you. I was ready to bail after the first date."
"Oh, the first hour I was ready to leave. I just had this foolish notion that she would somehow get better. She never did. It was just, she reminded me of someone I know..."
"Huh, funny that," mused Tristan, "I also dated Sarah because she reminded me of someone I used to know. Well, physically they looked the same. Personality wise…"
"Entirely different," finished Jess.
"Anyway, I've given her the bottle of water so it looks like we're both going to have to get a new one."
"So it would seem." They set their gaze on the bottles of water and stared at it contemplatively.
"Out of curiosity, why were you so intent on fighting over that one particular bottle of water?" asked Tristan.
"Because it was mine," Jess started then paused and confessed, "Plus you had the last piece of blueberry cheesecake at Stanley's."
"Well, you took the last copy of The Crazy Iris."
"You bumped into me!"
"I apologized!"
Jess smirked and then chuckled. "So, your name is Tristan, right? Rich kid. Ivy league school. Law student."
"Pre-law actually."
"Same thing. Oh, and you had the misfortune of dating Sarah."
"And you're Jess? A punk with no direction and with a lot of attitude. Also had the misfortune of dating Sarah but had the perseverance to last three weeks with her. I'm also guessing that you're a college student, possibly majoring in something useless like philosophy, history, english…"
"Who's to say that they're useless? Your opinion of useless is subjective and based on economics and a capitalist society who doesn't truly appreciate…"
"Have you ever considered politics?" Tristan queried.
"Ha! Yeah right," Jess scoffed.
"I'm just saying…"
"And I'm telling you to stop."
"So, we still need to get that bottle of water," observed Tristan.
"That we do."
They continued to stare at the shelves of water and then in one concurrent moment of action, reached out. They stopped when they realized that their hands had sought to grab the same bottle.
"Y'know, I don't really feel like water anymore. What do you say to a coffee?" suggested Tristan, taking a step back.
"A coffee…a coffee sounds good."