Going A Full Circle

Author's Note: I honestly have no intention of continuing this story, but I just felt like typing it up anyway. I wrote this during last summer, while I was at Windsor and bored in class. This takes place after Season Three, when Rory and Paris go to Yale.

Chapter One: I am the Wind

In the highways of Connecticut, within a SUV were two 18 years-old girls.

"Paris I think you missed it. We were supposed to get out at exit 39," said the one on the passenger's seat.

The girl driving, Paris gave a sigh. "So we are now..."

"Approaching exit 41."

"We'll get out here and find the road that goes back."

"Yes," said the girl in the passenger's seat as she started to tune the radio in the car.

"Rory, would you please turn it off. Music distracts my driving," said Paris annoyed.

"Okay," said Rory equally annoyed. Paris turned, pulling her SUV out of the highway exit.

They found their way to Yale's Campus. "Almost there," Paris announced.

'Paris is actually happy, that's a millennial event.' Rory thought with a silent smile. She is too, at less they manage to find it, despite it took then 5 hours and it is 9:08 PM now. Out of the corner of the eyes, she caught a bookstore it was small, but the aqua blue lights reflected on the white twin couches near the large glass windows, like a familiar pair of blue eyes. She looked closer at the sign, Coffee Café's Bookshop.

"STOP!" Rory demanded. Paris immediate stopped driving, the cars behind them stopped also. A few angry drivers behind them swore at them as they drove pass.

"Shut up!" Paris yelled back, then turned to Rory, "What ..."

"Look!" Rory pointed at the bookstore.

"You made me stop for that?!"

"Isn't it nice? We should go tomorrow."

Paris rolled her eyes, and started driving again. She let out a small laugh, "looks cozy, why not." They speed off the place where they will spend the next four years at.

- Phone dialect Sookie and Lorelai -

Sookie: Cheer up, you'll see her again she's coming back every weekend.

Lorelai: I'm missing my baby Rory already. How is she suppose to cook? She burned herself when she was six.

Sookie: Oh! The stove right? I remember it was a bad stove, bad stove, bad bad stove.

Lorelai: Very bad.

Sookie: It deserved to die and remember a few months later it broke down, then Luke had to come and fix it, but a whole tank of dust from the oven exploded in his face

Lorelai: Then I asked him should I get a towel or a duster...

Sookie: Good, see I knew you'll cheer up.

- Yale 7:30 AM -

Paris's alarm clock rang. "Com'on get up, Rory."

"NO!" Rory pulled her blanket tighter. Paris pulled them away; Rory got up to attack Paris.

"We need to get our schedules."

"No Fair! Sucks to be freshmen."

- Later -

Rory stood in front of the bookstore that she saw last night, Coffee Café's Bookshop. Opening the glass door she entered. It was a tiny, but the strong scent of coffee made her feel homely, like Luke's Dinner.

"Good afternoon, how many I help you?" asked a rough yet soft voice.

Rory turned around and found herself starring at a pair of magnificent blue eyes. There stood a tall young man with messy blond hair, wearing of what seemed to a cashier's shirt. As she did, his mouth dropped into a gape as well.

"Mary." He whispered loudly to himself.

Christopher Hayden threw his motorcycle keys in the air and caught them; he repeated this motion, humming to himself as he headed towards his house. He couldn't be happier. He had a home, a lovable one-year-old son, and a beautiful wife. In one had he held a dozen roses and a Champaign bottle in the other, hoping to celebrate his first year anniversary with his wife, Shirley. Their son was at his babysitter's house. This left him ad Shirley alone for the night. Christopher opened the door, entering the house. He went to the kitchen expecting to see Shirley there, since she told him that she will be back from work early today and make dinner. But she wasn't there. He checked the bathroom, then the study room; she wasn't there neither. So he headed upstairs to their bedroom.

"Shirley," Christopher sang as he opened their bedroom door. The door swung open, and she was found. There she laid on their bed satin sheets coved her curved bare body. The only problem is that she was not alone; on top of her was a man with cooper red hair, starring at Christopher in horror.

Christopher struggled to bring out words as his hands became weak and dropped the roses, and the bottle of wine shattered like a feathers from wings. The blood colored drink crawled the floor, staining the clothing that was already ripped, belonging to the two on the bed.

"Chris..." Shirley started, but Christopher ran down the stairs and out the house.

"He shoved his keys into his motorcycle and speed off catching up to the wind.

The biker wandered around for hours, with no destination, but just as far as he could go, away, not exactly from anywhere in specific, just away, maybe from where he came from, or maybe just another place, just away. He was like a little boy running away from home. He rode on the darken road, his eyes misted once again. All he could see are the shadows on the road... and two luminous stars coming towards him. Within seconds the shadows faded and so did all forms of light, it was being suffocated.

Chapter Two: More Literal

Lorelai drove from Hartford. She finally decided to go for a long drive in search of a coffee shop on the road. 'There's definitely not one here.' She thought looking out the vast road. She could hear the roars of a bike from a distance, she wondered about Rory, for the first in Rory was away, not just for the summer but for a whole year.

CRASH

Lorelai hit the breaks she could see a motorcycle sideways on the floor, and dark read helmet from her window. "Damn, bikers." She muttered getting out of her jeep and walked forward to find the biker on the ground. It was a man who lay with his back to the sky. She turned him over only to find blood on the side of his head and she looked closer at the injured man. His face was familiar and unforgettable. She whispered in horror, "Christopher."

Back at Coffee Café's Bookstore –

Rory starred at the boy in front of her. Yes, this is him, the same one who

had taunted her years at Chilton, the source of her first year of misery, and the only one who called her Mary, Tristan.

Tristan finally broke the silence, "Glorified to see me?"

"Can't be anymore happier," announced Rory sarcastically.

"So, what are you doing here?"

"Yale."

"Aren't you suppose to be in Harvard?" he asked.

"I know, Harvard became Yale and..."

"I see," Tristan nodded. He dug his hands into his pockets, looking down at his feet. "You know, sometimes the things we have always dreamt for is not really what we want. Like fallen idols."

"I see. But what are you doing here?"

"I work here." Tristan answered.

"You want?! But..."

"Tristan, get over here!" a man came he was a chunky old man, short and

bald. He had round glasses, which lays low on his red and white nose. On his shirt was a golden pin and it read: Nealen Parker, manager.

"I uh... better go. But if you ever need me, you'll know where to fine me. Bye Marry." Tristan winked, as he left.

The End

: Too bad, I won't be continuing this. Sorry guys.