It cannot be said that Hayden Berger was a man of humble means or ways.
His father was a golden-tongued sage, a successful orator by the name of Stephen Berger. Diverting himself one evening, Stephen chanced upon a spectacular performance by the well-known actress, Clara Dowell. Drawing upon her name, Stephen thought she'd "do well" by him, and soon the two were happily settled in Trenton, New Jersey.
Being both of them gainfully employed and of no meager means, there was no struggle to ensure that their son would want nothing. Anything young Hayden wanted, he received. At the same time, his parents had the foresight to teach their young son responsibility, so the attentions did not spoil him. Hayden learned that, though he could have what he wanted, it was far more satisfying in the long run to surround oneself with what one needed, and to have a use for everything. Mr. and Mrs. Berger also contributed to the character of their son by their high achievements and their expectations of him, which molded him into the proud, ruthless perfectionist he was today.
From an early age, Hayden—taking cues from his parents—demanded precise, immaculate surroundings. It brought him good grades as a methodical student, which pleased his parents, so he figured that what he was doing must be correct. It did not win him many friends, (indeed, such demeanor rather repelled them), but Hayden received many awards and honors from teachers and adults, which satisfied him.
When Hayden was five years old, a friend Stephen had known in high school, Tyler Robbins, paid a visit with his wife, Danielle. The Robbinses were considering adopting a child, since they could not have one of their own. The Bergers graciously offered to contribute toward both the adoption process, and the purchase of a small farm in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. All Stephen and Clara asked in return was that their son be welcomed as a playmate for the child.
The first time eleven-year-old Hayden saw Madison, who was eight at the time, he turned to his mother and said, "That is the most beautiful girl in the whole world!"
"More beautiful than I?" Clara chided her son playfully.
Young Hayden shook his head. "No, you're the world's most beautiful mother. She's the world's most beautiful girl."
Thus an enduring friends hip was born. Hayden never failed to treat Madison with the utmost care and respect. He would faithfully join in her games, and she was always welcome in his.
They went to grade school together, even though Hayden could have gone to an elite academy. He had the idea fixed in his head that he was Madi's guardian, to protect her from those who would do her harm. Bullies were plenty in the little Philadelphia school, but it only took a few fights (most of which he lost) for Hayden to realize that there are certain skills a protector needs to be effective.
Forthwith, he consulted a neighbor, Old Wayne Gramm, former amateur boxer. After a week under Old Wayne's tutelage, Hayden found fulfillment in that he could now put down any enemy of Madi with more efficiency and less mess. All through the years, he stuck by her side. Madi welcomed it, and always welcomed him with a special smile that spoke volumes in her eloquent face.
His parents could have sent him anywhere in the world to study, but Hayden chose Ballard College of the Arts in Albany, New York, for two specific reasons: it had a stellar alumni record, and Madison Robbins had expressed her intentions to enroll there.
Hayden chose to major in the Fine Arts, working ceaselessly and methodically toward a master's degree because of his affinity in that area. He soon proved his worth on the stage, and in his sophomore year, he attained the coveted position of Drama Department Head, second only to the Director.
Finally, three years into his studies, Madi arrived at Ballard. Shortly after her arrival, three things happened to Hayden that changed the course of his life dramatically. First, his parents died in a car accident, which meant Hayden had to take a temporary leave from school to return home and attend his parents' funeral and the reading of the will. In the will, Hayden Berger inherited a large sum of money, plus a substantial part of the Berger estate.
It took quite a bit of contending with bankers, lawyers, and the like, but my the end of the month's leave Hayden requested of Ballard, he settled that, since he would be at college for another three years, and since he didn't need such a massive mansion all alone, he would sell it at a reasonable price to the charity he knew his parents supported, and use that money to purchase a smaller house of his own later on after school.
Hayden returned to Ballard to discover the second change in his life: Matthew Pucker.
Matt ought not have been anyone special, except his parents were disgustingly rich. Matt attracted much attention by flaunting this for all to see. It irked Hayden, not because of the money everyone knew Matt had, (Hayden, on account of the inheritance, was richer still), but because Matt became quickly popular for his indiscretion to the degree Hayden was ostracized for his tact, which everyone assumed to be snobbery.
Money, however, was not the only thing that came between Matt and Hayden. The other was Madison; or rather, Matt's fancy for Madi. She was as popular for her character as he was for his money. Just like Matt had been able to buy every other pleasure in his life, he assumed his money would appeal to the quiet young girl, whom he heard was working at the Library because she did not have the money to pay for her degree, but must work, earning enough each quarter to afford a few classes at a time.
Hayden felt somewhat vindicated when Matt discovered that, poor though Madi may be, but discontent with her station she was not. Neither would she allow herself to be forced into love, no matter how compelling the situation may seem to others around her.
A third change present itself in Hayden's life at this point. Halfway to his master's degree in Fine Arts, Hayden saw Matt attempting to covertly stage a sort of coup against him, to wrest from Hayden his position of leadership over the drama department. Hayden could not deny that Matt was a capable actor, and quite possibly worthy of the position, except that Hayden feared that if Matt attained that status, he would soon garner enough clout to have his way with Madi in spite of her valiant resistance. This, to Hayden, was the worst possible thing that could happen. Hastily, he stepped down as Department Head, and allowed the ambitious Montreal LaFleur to fill his place, if only to prevent Matt from ever getting it. He quickly regretted the appointment, but now at least he could focus more on the literary side, taking on an undergraduate degree in the Liberal Arts in addition to the remainder of his Master's in Fine Arts. The change of focus also allowed him more time in the Library, where he could keep an eye on Madi.
Hayden soon made a name for himself in the literary field as he had done in the theater. Hayden Berger was soon synonymous with ruthless, cutting perfectionism. A literature club even formed on this basis, taking the name "Bergeriacs" in his honor. Hayden consented to be an integral part of the club, everything short of being its leader (which, though he was never in name, he soon became in respect), and even won for the Bergeriacs permission from the directors to meet for one hour in the Library every day, something Hayden took great satisfaction in knowing that Matt, as affiliated with the drama department as he was, could never effect, even with all his money.
It was at this hour Hayden waited with suppressed agitation for Chris Newville, the guy who had ostensibly stolen the heart of Hayden's only love. Right as the clock struck twelve, Hayden heard a tentative step in the doorway.
Hmph! Hayden thought, He's punctual, at least!
Very soon afterwards, Hayden saw a young man hesitantly approaching the sitting area where he waited. Hayden took the time to observe this intruder who had chosen to pit himself against the illustrious Hayden Berger. The more he looked, however, the lower his heart sank. Christopher Newville was not merely good-looking; he was downright flawless!
Toned muscles (but not overly bulky), short brown hair spiked and tastefully frosted California-style at the tips, and a pair of clear blue eyes framing a nose neither too large nor too small, perched just right over a confident mouth.
Hayden compared Chris' features with his own: Hayden's skin was a shade too pale from being inside studying most of the time. His nose came to a fine round ball at the end, a distinctly German trait genetic courtesy of his father. His hands had always been considered rather effeminate, his forehead too tall, and his eyes too big. If looks were the only merit to a woman, Hayden Berger did not stand a chance. Hayden found hasty comfort for his drowning ego in the one skill he knew he'd mastered: wit. Surely this perfect model of a young man could not be more skilled with his tongue than Hayden Berger, Chief among Wordsmiths!
Pointedly, Hayden stared unflinching at Chris as the latter finally approached him and extended a hand.
"Hayden Berger, I presume?" The question came from those perfect lips, which then smiled cheekily at their own cleverness.
"You presume correctly," Hayden said coldly, but inside he was was this impudent rascal, that he would throw famous quotes about like casual everyday things, instead of treating them with the value they deserved? Such irreverence! It was all Hayden could do to keep from smacking that finely-chiseled face as they shook hands.
"So good to finally meet you…sir," Chris said sincerely.
Hayden suddenly felt compelled to be very short with this young man. "State your business," he snapped.
Chris furtively glanced away. "Um, sir?" he said nervously, "there are two matters I wish to discuss. First, I would like to join the Bergeriacs."
"Oh really?" Hayden said slowly, standing to his feet. He then began firing off questions rapidly.
"Which author wrote more poetry, James Joyce or Edgar Allen Poe?"
"Um, Ja—"
"What is Mark Twain's real name?"
"Uh—"
"How many syllables per line in a hexametric poem?"
"Oh! Si—"
"Which of the following works by Shakespeare deals with twins: A Comedy of Errors or Two Gentlemen of Verona?"
"Well, um—"
"If you do not know these basics, then why do you expect to become a part of the Bergeriacs?"
"Sir," Chris began finally, screwing up his courage, "if I may, let me make this point: young men in ancient Greece, when they desired to acquire knowledge, would align themselves as disciples under the best teachers of their day. I have heard that the Bergeriacs' Literary Club is the best group in Ballard, so I wish to become your disciple, even as a junior member, if you will permit me."
Hayden raised his eyebrows as if skeptical. Inwardly he was very pleased at the clarity of Chris' speech, but he still wanted to keep his harsh façade. "That was well put," he gave out as if grudgingly. Completely joking, he continued, "Have you been working on that speech for very long?"
To his utter shock, Chris nodded! "Yeah, I've practiced all week in preparation for this. So, you think my delivery was good? Not too fast? I always feel like I talk too fast, because I'm worried I'll forget a phrase or mix up my words or something."
Hayden's admiration dropped considerably, and he cleared his throat, "Ahem! Yes, fine; now, what was the second matter?"
Chris licked his lips, "Ah, um, may we sit down, sir?"
"Sure," Hayden said, suddenly smiling as he returned to his armchair while Chris took the one next to him. "I'm scaring you, aren't I?" Hayden asked Chris.
The younger student's reaction was rather knee-jerk, "Oh no, not at—well, no offense but—actually … yeah."
Hayden could tell Chris was miserable by the way he looked at him. Hayden laughed kindly. "Well then, let us dispense with the formal language and call each other Chris and Hayden. Now, let's hear about that second matter."
"Um," Chris wet his lips again, "It's about a girl."
"Madison Robbins."
Chris looked up in surprise, "You know her?"
"Of course I do; she's the most popular girl in Ballard, you couldn't meet a student who doesn't know her. That's not the only way I know her, though. Madi and I are close, practically cousins, you could say."
"Really? Well, then maybe you would know: does a guy like me have a chance with a girl like her?"
Hayden considered carefully. So, not only did Madi like him, but he liked her back. Hayden still fought with one question: was Chris worthy of her?
"A guy with a 'chance' as you say with Madison," he told Chris, "ought to be good-looking."
"Oh, well, I wouldn't—"
"Now, you're being modest! Anyway, he cannot be too rich, for she is of the sort who staunchly believe that money cannot buy true love."
"Well, that's good, 'cause I don't—"
"Couple these characteristics with a fine wit and a head for poetry, and you could have her any way you like!"
Chris groaned and let his head flop against the back of the armchair. "As Hamlet would say, 'Aye, there's the rub!'"
Hayden winced. "Please," he moaned, "have the goodness not to quote Hamlet to me, after what happened yesterday."
"Sorry; it's true though. Talking like this, even with you, man-to-man, not a problem for me. But talking to girls…"
"Let me guess, you get all tongue-tied and freeze up and don't know what to say."
"Exactly! I know of your repartee, and I was wondering if you could…y'know…maybe, like, coach me or something?"
Hayden pondered this suggestion. Coach? Chris was asking Hayden Berger to be some sort of banter-coach? To win Madi? To stand by the sidelines and watch someone else use his words to win her? He liked Madi; true, he could talk to her, but that was provided the subject was anything but his love for her. Hayden knew if he wanted to speak for himself he would have a hard time of it. Still, every time he looked at her, all sorts of descriptions, sonnets, and poems drifted through his mind. He longed to tell her those things, but could never bring himself to—Hayden paused in his train of thought to consider Chris' request. He had asked Hayden for help, which meant Hayden would be telling Chris what to say. An idea struck him: Now was his chance to express his feelings to Madi!
With Chris's good looks and Hayden's smart tongue, the two of them could create a champion lover, a "hero of romance" if you will. He looked back at Chris.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, "Are you willing to trust me with your mouth, to say everything I tell you to say?"
Chris answered carefully, "Yes, I am sure."
Hayden smiled as victory welled in his heart. He extended a hand, "Well then, let's work together." The two friends shook, clinching the deal.
Only then did Hayden notice the crowd of Bergeriacs entering the Library. One young student nudged a fellow.
"This is it! We're just in time! The handshake before the fight!"
Hayden frowned and threw a playful punch at the speaker. "Of course not, you bloodthirsty miscreant! Is that any way to treat a fellow Bergeriac?"
"Wait, what?" cried several voices, Chris included.
"That's right," Hayden affirmed, "boys, welcome your new member, Chris Newville."
"Chris!" A familiar voice cried, and Hayden smiled as Madi approached, but frowned when he saw Matt Pucker and his cronies at her heels. Matt tried to grab Madi's hand, but she pulled away from him and pushed her way through the Bergeriacs to get to Chris. She flung her arms around him while he blinked in surprise at her forwardness.
"Now that you're a member," Hayden heard her whisper to Chris, "will you write me a poem?"
Chris looked at Hayden with a face full of alarm, but Hayden nodded, mindful of the unsigned sonnet in his pocket. He would give it to Chris to copy onto the computer and send to Madi.
"Yes," Chris whispered back, and Madi flitted back to the front of the Library, her face glowing with happiness.
Matt stopped her at the edge of the crowd. "Who's that?" he demanded of her.
Madi shrugged, indifferent toward Matt. "That's Chris Newville. He's involved in the theater. I wonder that you do not know him."
"Oh, yeah," Matt feigned acquaintance, "I knew he was here, I just thought a guy like him would be below your interest."
"How little you truly know me, then; why would he be below me?"
"Well… can he write?"
"He would not be a Bergeriac if he couldn't!"
Matt frowned, "I'm a Bergeriac."
Madison laughed patronizingly, "Matt, everyone knows you paid your way into the Bergeriacs, though Heaven knows why! You're not being fair to Chris. C'mon," she chided him coyly.
"We still on for dinner next week, honey?" Matt asked suavely, trying to put his arm around her shoulders.
Madi shrugged him off, "I'll let you know if I have time," she said evenly. She took her position behind the counter of the Library.
Matt looked back toward the Bergeriacs, deep in discussion, with Hayden and Chris at the center. He scowled bitterly and shrugged to his gang gathered around him, "Let's go, guys."
On the way out, he spied a brochure advertising the "Battle of the Bards," a poetry and prose competition held every year at the Onecenter in Syracuse. Thoughts of revenge filled his mind as he took one.
So, Matthew Pucker isn't worthy enough for the Bergeriacs? he thought, That's fine! I know just the thing to make the Bergeriacs unworthy of Ballard!
That evening, Madison logged onto Ballard's networking site, . They could barely restrain herself when she saw her inbox contained a message from "cnewville"! It was the sonnet she asked for! It did not disappoint her in the least. Madi printed it out and read it again. What profound metaphors! What tender words!
Madi knew without a doubt that she would never regret picking Chris.
^^^^^