Prologue: Hamburg

June 25, 2015

Hamburg, Germany

Her phone woke her up; a text alert informing her that due to inclement weather in New York, her evening flight home was canceled. She immediately turned on her computer and jumped onto her airline website where she rebooked her flight to early the next day. With any luck, she thought to herself, I could spend the day volunteering my seat for flights and getting my next travel gig paid. Traveling as much as she has the past several years, she's learned a trick or two about working the system.

Rather than going back to sleep she decided to get ready for the day. Later that morning she had a meeting with British Feminist icon and environmental activist, Naomi Shropshire. Naomi was celebrating the 20th anniversary of a landmark legislation on sexual assault that not only fundamentally changed the laws in Britain but also had rippling influence in the rest of the Western World. Naomi spearheaded the grassroots movement that led to the eventual passing of the law. Naomi was the woman of the hour, and thanks to The New Yorker, she had the opportunity to interview her.

After two cups of coffee, a pastry, and a shower, she proceeded to get ready for the day, rehearsing her questions and making notes as she applied her make-up, did her hair, and put on her lucky red dress. Once she finished she stood in front of the mirror, staring at the image of a woman she did not entirely recognize. At age 32, she felt a bit worn. While her career as a journalist brought her much joy and personal satisfaction, the last couple of years had been brutal. Life as a freelancer brought many opportunities, but the need for stability, in the career, financial, and yes, emotional sense, was growing. "Ms. Shropshire", she said to her reflection in the mirror, "I'm Rory Gilmore from The New Yorker. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." She repeated her introduction until she found the right words, tone, and inflection. With that, she smoothed out her dress, took a deep cleansing breath, gathered work materials, and headed to her meeting.


At that same moment in a hotel suite not too far away, Logan Huntzberger woke up with a start. At first, he felt disoriented. Having been traveling for the last two weeks, it took him a minute to remember where he was. Hamburg was his last stop. He was here for yet another meeting, this time with his American counterpart who was passing through town, or so that was the plan. As it turned out, due to bad weather in New York, her arrival was delayed until the next day. Initially annoyed, Logan decided to take the schedule change in stride. He had been working non-stop for the last five months and he decided to take this as fate telling him to take the day to explore and rest before returning to the "real world".

He turned off his phone and then went back to sleep, waking up again two hours later. He took a quick survey of his messages before going for a run along the lakefront. Then, after a shower and a leisurely breakfast, he set off on his sightseeing adventure, starting the day at the International Maritime Museum, where he spent the next four hours. He always loved boats, sailing, and everything that had to do with Maritime life. Having arrived in Hamburg during a weekday and low tourist season, Logan had the Museum practically to himself, allowing himself an extraordinary amount of time to pepper the docent with questions and an even more embarrassing amount playing in the Museum's sailing simulator.

As he left the museum in search of a café and a light lunch, he could not help but laugh at himself. Ever since he left California and settled back into life on the executive track at Huntzberger Media, Logan changed. No longer was he the reckless kid that pulled pranks and sunk (and stole) yachts, but the more mature, responsible, and at times he thought, boring, uptight version of himself. It wasn't so much that he disliked the idea of being a productive member of society and striving to do well, but the fact that the notions of being, doing, striving above the norm felt overreaching. Even during his so-called "leisure time", there was always something to accomplish; there was no mountain too high, no river too fast, no depth too deep that he did not feel pressed to conquer. He was in full-on adulting mode, no, he was in full-on Huntzberger mode, and for some reason, today the idea was not sitting well with him. There wandering around the Museum and playing sailor, Logan realized that the first time in a long time that he felt not so adult, allowing himself to let go and have genuine stupid fun. It was comforting and yet unsettling.

Why he just couldn't pinpoint.

He was deeply contemplating this realization when he ducked into a café. He wasn't inside a full minute before he saw her sitting at a table next to the window, wearing a stunning red dress. The early afternoon sun shined slightly above her, making her hair and ivory skin sparkle. She appeared to be deep in thought, writing notes as if she were studying for an exam. Realizing and embarrassed that he was staring, he quickly moved towards the exit before he could be seen. Yet, as he was about to open the door to leave, something made him stop. With a deep breath, he turned around and approached her. "Of course I would run into you at a coffee shop," he said...


Relief. Oh, what a relief Rory thought as she left the hotel where she met with Naomi. The meeting went well, in fact, it went very well. Naomi and Rory seemed to have a great connection. Sure she seemed a bit goofy and over-the-top, but growing up in Stars Hollow and being the daughter of Lorelai, granddaughter of Emily Gilmore, and great-granddaughter of Lorelai I, she knew she had a handle goofy, over-the-top, and then some. Still, in the excitement of making that connection with Naomi, there was still that lingering feeling doubt. For a while now she questioned as to whether or not Journalism was indeed her career destiny. The world was more connected now, giving everyone with a device and network connection a voice, consequently turning the Journalism profession on its ear. Although she loved the writing and researching stories, it was the other side of it, chasing the stories, the cutthroat competition, the having to constantly defend herself and her professional ethics, that was wearing thin. Is there more out there? she found herself thinking on more than one occasion.

What that was, she could never pinpoint.

Shortly after her meeting, Rory found herself nestled in a cozy café. As she sipped her coffee and chewed on her sandwich she contemplated what more her life could be. Journalism was all she wanted to do since she was young. But then again, she told herself, you always thought you would go to Harvard, and where did you end up? Yale. She was in the midst of creating a "leave journalism pro/con list" in her journal when she felt herself develop goosebumps and sensed someone approaching her. "Of course I would run into you in a coffee shop", familiar voice said. She looked up, utterly gobsmacked. There, standing before her wearing his familiar smirk, was Logan Huntzberger.


It took a beat or two before she responded. "Oh my God, what are you doing here?" She exclaimed. Despite the look of utter shock on her face, Logan thought that she looked more beautiful than he remembered, "I got stood up by an associate so I am wallowing in coffee" he bantered back.

"So how are you?" She asked after inviting him to sit down. It was a loaded question. To say that this was their most awkward moment to date was an understatement. Their last memory of each was the profound heartbreak they felt as he walked away from her after she turned down his marriage proposal. They thought about each often throughout the years; on good days they wished each well and hoped each other was happy, while on bad days they wondered what life would be like if she had made a different decision and said yes to his proposal.

They started their conversation telling each other things that they secretly already knew as mutual friends and acquaintances, Yale Alumni news, and the internet made everyone's life somewhat public, especially those in the media business. Yet, the more they talked, the more relaxed they became. Soon they found themselves falling into the familiar banter that they had honed so many years ago. He shared with her stories about his adventures in Silicon Valley, his decision to come back to family business on his own terms, and that he was engaged. He seemed happy, and she was happy for him. She shared stories of her adventures on the Obama Presidential campaign, her travels afterward, her current projects, and that she was in a relationship with a man named Paul. He could not help but feel pride for all she had accomplished.

They ended up spending the rest of the afternoon together, going on a cheesy yet informative formal tour of the Beatles' Hamburg haunts. After the tour they continued to see the sites, all the while continuing their reconnection; updating each other on relatives and mutual friends, debating issues of the day, exchanging bits and pieces about their lives. Afternoon turned into evening and after more coffee, dinner, and after dinner drinks, Logan walked Rory to her hotel. Standing outside, they exchanged contact information, pledging a heartfelt promise to stay in touch. Then, after a long, tight, affectionate hug, Rory kissed him on the cheek and with a smile and a wave turned and walked into her hotel, where she walked leisurely the elevator and up to her room, and upon closing the door, dropped the floor and dissolved into tears. Meanwhile, as Logan watched Rory's departing image, he felt completely immobilized, thanks to the feeling the electricity pulsating through his body as the result of that goodbye kiss.