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Chapter 3: The Phantom of Luke's Diner

« Si je suis le fantôme, c'est parce que la haine de l'homme m'a rendu tel. Si je veux être sauvé, c'est que ton amour me rachète » - Le fantôme de l'opéra, Gaston Leroux

Rory should've considered that sweater as a lost cause the moment Jess needed it as a disguise. It's not like she had time to think about the consequences of the plan that miraculously worked. If she wasn't so flustered or concerned about getting expelled from Chilton, she would've told Jess to hide somewhere in the archives or under the table, maybe even jump out the window to make a run for it.

Dean would've never ordered her to take off her sweater so he could use it as a disguise. In the severely and unlikely case that he pulled a Jess stunt and snuck into Chilton just to chat and deliver coffee, Dean would've owned up to his actions and profusely apologized — even throwing in a classic promise of it never happening again before heading on out.

And now she's here at Luke's diner after hours to collect her stupid sweater. Earlier, she hoped to run into Jess not only to catch up after their conversation was cut short but so she could've avoided that flustered conversation with Luke where she pretended she was cold when it's been so warm that Taylor was yelling at people to layer up on the SPF.

Besides, now that she's alone at night, nobody saw her talking to Jess. No Dean, no Mom, no Luke, nobody else who could tell any or all those aforementioned three. No worry of the town or Chilton faculty.

Just them.

Rory walks up to the diner after hours when all the stores are closed and people went home after the town meeting (where Taylor, again, went on a spiel about SPF and Kirk was trying to advertise his homemade sunscreen. Somehow, it gave sunburns upon application. Taylor also brought up a potential shortage of aloe vera gel and sunburn ointment because of Kirk's creation.) Luke told her that Jess should be in the diner or that he, at least, left Rory's sweater on the counter and she could welcome herself inside.

The diner is closed; obviously, only the overnight lights are dimly lit. She spots her sweater nearly folded beside the donut display.

There's no Jess in sight and she sighs. She didn't think Jess would be there because he's only at the diner for work (and even then, he's fickle). She imagined him waiting at the counter for her, reading whatever new book he started and wanted to chat about. They could've continued from where they were interrupted at Chilton.

It's fine. She'll just grab her sweater and head home.

Rory stands on her tiptoes and reaches for the spare key hidden above the door. She lets herself in and closes the door behind her slowly so the bell doesn't ring.

She walks behind the counter and stops when she notices that aside from her sweater, the pencil he took from her is sharpened and sitting beside the zipper. Rory puts her pencil in her pocket before picking up her sweater. She feels something hard inside.

Rory peeks between the folds and sees two books peeking out. She pushes down the fabric and the titles catch her eye. Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris and Gaston Leroux's Le fantôme de l'opéra. They're obviously his copies, the former as his earlier read. Classic paperback covers, gothic images with the titles and Hugo's name in matching script. The spines are wrinkled, the covers slightly folded since Jess holds a book like a rolled newspaper. She flickers through the pages and sees his scribbles and markings in the margins.

Books well read and loved, hearts and thoughts poured out, now wrapped in a sweater in her arms. Her heart warms as she holds the books closer to herself. She might as well have been wearing the sweater.

As she rocks them, she nearly drops them at the sudden sound of screaming coming from upstairs. Rory's heart jumps as she peers upwards towards Luke's apartment. It wasn't a one-time scream for help but an angry and ongoing conversation. It can't be Luke since he was at the meeting and didn't come back here afterwards.

The yelling stops for a moment before Jess continues. If Rory had to guess, he was on an angry phone call. She wonders if she should knock and head up to thank him for the books and the sweater or just head out without leaving a trace.

But it's silent again. A door slams. Footsteps trod down the stairs, getting louder and closer to her.

Rory ducks behind the counter as Jess steps out into the dining area. She watches his shadow travel across the wall as he walks across the diner. She holds her breath when Jess stops at the door — she only knows that because the bell jingled once when he opened the door. She knows he didn't step out since the bell didn't ring a second time and his shadow is still standing there.

Rory's heart races and she hopes Jess doesn't somehow hear. It could've been less weird if she was just standing there and he walked in; at least that would be more normal than this predicament. If anything, Jess is wondering if he locked the doors before closing up the diner. Or he notices that her sweater and his books have been claimed while he was disputing someone.

The bell dings a second time, the door closes, and his shadow disappears.

Rory's heart calms as she slowly peeks over the counter's edge. She sees Jess blending into the night. Streetlights catch on pieces of his leather jacket as he treks through the town heading who knows where like Leroux's lurking Phantom traversing the bones of the theatre.

Like Christine, Rory sets foot to follow him.

She runs to the courtyard, stopping slowly when she realizes that she doesn't know where he went. Rory looks around. All the trees, light posts, and storefronts resemble each other in the dark. She flinches every time light passes her face. Her vision doubles once she sees someone approaching her. Her gut tells her to run, to scream, but she's frozen.

"I was looking for you."

Rory's vision focuses and Jess stands in front of her. She exhales out of relief that it wasn't some creeper stalking the streets for prey or Kirk being lost and asking for some company since he's out past curfew and doesn't want to walk home alone (for the other reason mentioned. Sometimes, people who were stuck bringing Kirk home, they had to back up his story to his mother who would lock the doors since Kirk doesn't have his own key).

Jess' face shifts into concern when Rory doesn't say anything. "Are you okay? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, no…" Rory mutters, brushing him off. "Searching for a phantom, if we're being technical which I didn't say we were but for future reference, I will stop babbling and just say thank you."

"Right," Jess grins when he notices her hugging his books wrapped in her sweater. "You know, if you want to find the Phantom, you'll need a theatre."

Rory frowns. "Do not. You should've drawn directions somewhere in Act II."

"Act II specifically?"

"Yes. Act I has to introduce everything. Act II gets the plot in motion, ergo the hand-drawn map to get us to Act III, the Phantom climax."

"Are you challenging Leroux's classic on how to find phantoms?"

"Precisely."

"Shame…" Jess takes a step closer to her. "You'll see in the margins that Hugo only has honest things to say about me. Leroux backs him up."

Rory smiles over her racing heart. "Don't be so modest. All French authors have honest things to write about you. While criticized during the publication times for the scandal of an overtly undesirable man yearning and pining for an unavailable woman, the theme is conventional. It's seen repeatedly with different authors and their takes, characters, and settings."

"I've read them all. Your point?"

"My point is that while they might not win in the end, they hold more value. Anne's husband doesn't even have a name. Phoebus was bland and…"

Jess raises a brow as Rory's voice trails off with her sentence. Rory avoids his eyes and that stupid grin that mixes her thoughts even more. She knows that if their eyes lock, she's gone. She already blanked on the rest of her argument and she didn't even spare him a glance. Her cheeks burn when she hears a laugh from him as she leafs through Leroux.

"You forgot his name, didn't you?" Jess teases.

"It further proves my point," Rory argues. She skims a page and shows him the name when she finds it. "Viscount Raoul de Chagny. Unmemorable. Even you didn't write anything on the side. It has to be somewhat flattering to the underdog everyone cheers for and the titular character."

"You calling me a masked weirdo or a hunchback?"

"Minus the mask and the hunched back," Rory hunches over for a second to emphasize.

"Amongst other things."

Rory's eyes meet his and her insides freeze. Christine and Esmeralda. Anne too. Potentially unrequited, maybe requited love for the story's hero. She bites her tongue on explaining the meaning behind them because it's better for everyone if it's hidden behind closed covers and scrawls of annotations. Saying it aloud allows for discussion and debate she isn't sure she's prepared to have, but she makes sure not to break eye contact as she straightens again.

"C'est la vie," he mutters in defeat.

Rory nods once. "C'est la vie."

They stand silently except for the night wind passing them. Jess puts his hands in his pockets as Rory readjusts her sweater and the books in her crossed arms. This would be the part in the awkward silence where both parties go their separate ways and leave with even more awkward incomplete sentences that cut each other off.

But neither of them moves until Jess holds an arm out.

"Onto Act III?"

Rory grins, taking his arm. "Let's find a Phantom."


Fun fact, I also forgot Raoul's name while writing this chapter so it worked perfectly.