Author's Note: This is the last chapter. Ending kinda sucks, but I'm living with it. Thank you for all of your kind reviews for this story. It has really helped, and I have wrote another chapter for the Just Roommates story, except it's not that great, but I'll type it up and post it, just so you can say that I actually updated once this year. Anyhow, thank you to Chelle5, Alicia Jo, ally, tvgeek401, kisses, smile1, Technicolor-girl, and readergurl87 for all of your positiveness.
Oh yeah, major note thingy here: I am not a journalist, I don't even think I'm that great at writing, so the "article" that she writes is mine, and I know that newspapers probably wouldn't really have articles written like that, but it was an attempt. So, yeah. Please read on.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
The next morning instead of waking up the peace and quiet of Stars Hollow and the birds chirping in the April morning, Rory Gilmore woke up to an interrogation. "So, what did you do last night? What time did you get in? Did you have fun? Was he a gentleman? Cause if he wasn't I'll go wring his neck. And most importantly, was he a good kisser?" Lorelai spoke faster than the speed of light, sipping her ninth cup of joe that morning.
"What?" Rory woke up slowly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She hadn't gotten much sleep that night, because she had gotten in around midnight, and didn't fall asleep until two because she was on a high from the mind-blowing kiss.
"I said, details. Everything." Her mother responded.
Rory rolled over, facing the older woman. "Well, we saw 'Freaky Friday,' and then we went out to dinner." She shrugged. "That's about it."
"And the kiss?"
"What makes you so sure there was a kiss?"
"You're avoiding the topic." Lorelai nodded confidently. "Major tip off."
Rory had a dreamy look on her face; with only one kiss she was sixteen again. "The kiss was," she paused, trying to find the words. "Everything I'd ever want."
"Hmm, so the kiss was good." Lorelai saw her daughter had a look in her eyes that she hadn't seen in a while.
The look stayed there until the day before she had to leave Stars Hollow. Tristan was at the diner with Rory having lunch while Lorelai sat at the counter talking to Luke. "So, what are we going to do about us? Cause you go back to your life in New York and I go back to my life in North Carolina." Tristan had stayed here and went to UNC after he got out of military school and started a business there.
"Well, we go back to our lives, don't we?" Rory wasn't as sure as she sounded. Inside, she hoped that the week of her R and R wouldn't end so they could be together. But life isn't always a fairytale. "I mean, we can still see each other and stuff."
Tristan's heart was now into tiny little pieces. With two sentences all of the emotions that he had gathered in the past week were now leaking out. "Rory, our lives are now too intertwined to go back to our old lives." Over the week they had poured out their souls to each other, and had started to date. The next three words were something that he had felt ever since he was a teenager. Only now, the feelings were more prominent. "I love you."
"What?" Rory's eyes went wide from the stare she had been sharing with Tristan. She hadn't expected the words. Not quite yet.
Lorelai was sitting at the counter overhearing this conversation "unintentionally." She could almost hear Tristan's heart breaking even more. She could also hear the fear in Rory's voice. It was almost as if Rory was expecting a replay of Dean even though that had happened a long time ago.
"I said I love you." Tristan leaned back in his chair, letting go of Rory's hands. He was beginning to realize that Rory hadn't asked for a clarification. She wasn't feeling the same way he felt about her. "But that's okay. I think I have a plane to catch." He announced after what felt like five minutes of staring at each other. Rory didn't even notice him leave, but Lorelai did.
She had followed him out of the diner. "Tristan, don't go. Rory's just confused." Lorelai thought of a reason. Rory was in love with Tristan, she knew it, but couldn't say it. It was the 'three little words phobia' she had gotten from Lorelai.
"No, she's not confused." Tristan looked on sadly. "I think it would be best if I left."
And so the both went their separate ways. Tristan went back to his business filled life in North Carolina and Rory went back to her deadline filled life in New York. They were both missing each other terribly. They also both wished that their last conversation had gone a different direction than it had.
"So, how did the article come along?" Mr. Beck asked when he first saw Rory at the Times again. She was different in a way. Preoccupied with something, he thought. If only he knew what. He looked at Liz, who was standing next to her desk and she only shrugged.
When he left, Liz started to slowly ask questions. "So, did you see your mom?"
"Yeah." Rory replied, sounding a little absentminded. "It was nice."
The rest of the day went on like that, Rory always being to preoccupied to worry about her work. She just sat and looked out the window at the park across the street. She looked at the little kids and saw how free they were, they had no responsibilities, only to clean up their toys. They didn't have the burden of knowing someone loved them and not being able to voice their opinion back. She really did have a phobia, it seemed.
Back in North Carolina, Tristan was acting the same way Rory was. He was preoccupied. Only, it wasn't the same thoughts he was preoccupied with. His mind was on overdrive thinking about Rory and the times they had spent together. He even thought about Chilton and the crappy way he treated her. But, he tried to go about his business as usual. And as usual, he failed due to the fact that Rory was on his mind.
It was three am in New York City and Rory Gilmore was sitting at her desk, staring at her computer screen. Her article was due tomorrow and her thoughts had changed on how to get a rich guy. All you had to do was be yourself.
"Excuse me, but shouldn't you be at home?" A voice startled Rory. She looked up and saw Mr. Beck looking down at her. "Didn't I warn you that you would end up like me if you pulled too many all-nighters?" He questioned.
"Yes sir, but it's just that I wrote my article before I put any thought into it, and now if I submit it like it is, all of my writing would be a lie." She thought back to her first day of work. "Didn't you tell me on my first day that I needed to be truthful to myself when I wrote, otherwise it would be a lie?"
"Yes, I did." He sat down in the chair next to Rory's desk. "Why would your writing be a lie if you submit it right now?"
Rory thought back to the previous week. "Because I wrote down all these tips on how to get a rich guy when the only one you need is be yourself. I know that firsthand."
Mr. Beck seemed to think it over for a moment. "You do, do you?" She nodded. "Well then, get writing. I'm going to expect it on my desk first thing tomorrow morning." He then got up and walked down to his office where he too, was working.
It took Rory two hours to re-write the article. When she was finished, she printed it out and knocked on Mr. Beck's door where he was still working on the next day's paper. "Come in," he responded.
Opening the door, she handed him her article confidently. "There is my article. And it is the first thing I've done this morning." She smiled, and sat down after Beck motioned to.
After reading the first two sentences, Beck was hooked. He kept reading the article that one of his best writers just submitted. It was unlike anything Rory had ever written before. What Rory usually wrote were facts. This time, her writing was from the heart. "Front page," was all he said when he finished reading her piece of work. He looked up and had a proud smile on his face. "You know, maybe you should end up like me because I think you'll make a great editor after I retire." He smiled slightly.
When Rory was dismissed from the office, she went back to her desk and laid her head down, there was no use in going home now, her shift would start in about a half hour. When she closed her eyes all she could picture was Tristan living his daily life in North Carolina. But when she tried to fight images, she couldn't. For some reason, she had to see him.
Liz was startled by what she saw at her friend's desk a half hour later, at six am. Rory was sleeping soundly at her desk with a copy of the New York Times next to it. However, that image isn't what startled her. It was the headline on the paper. It read: 'The Secret Is Out: Be Yourself.' She quickly glanced at the article and saw that Rory wrote it.
Another man was reading the article on a bench in the park across the street from the Times building. He was especially intrigued because of the topic and how it was written. He hadn't quite worked up the courage to walk into the building yet, so he decided to read. Every so often he would run a hand through his blond hair that had always been unruly.
Many people want a rich guy to love them. They think that there are many secrets, but there aren't. In fact, there's only one. The only tip on how to get a rich guy to fall on love with you, or any guy for that matter, is to be yourself. I experienced this firsthand last week.
I know what you're thinking. "How can she fall in love in a week?" The truth is, I fell in love again with the same man I was in love with when I was sixteen. However, he didn't know it at the time, and I had no idea that he liked me. Yes, he's rich. But you would never know if you ran into him walking down the street.
I ran into him at the country club in Hartford, Connecticut last week and he gave me a bunch of tips on how to get a rich guy. One of the last tips he gave me was "be a Mary." In high school, he always called me Mary. Maybe because of the fact that I was so innocent, but it was his name for me. Not just because of my qualities, but because I was from a small town, wasn't very rich and because I always saw the best in people, whether or not they deserved it.
The only person I didn't see the best in was him. He was always giving me a hard time and calling me Mary, which was something I despised, only on the surface. Inside, it was a different story. But when I ran into him at the country club, he wasn't a rich kid who called me Mary. I found out that he only called me that because he liked me. A rich guy had liked me.
I went to high school being known as the small town girl who was very innocent. Tristan fell in love with the fact that I was myself. I didn't try to get his attention, if anything; I tried to get away from it. I didn't try to become a popular girl just because he was the most popular guy in school. I didn't try anything, and he fell in love with the fact that I didn't want to be a socialite.
So in answer to Marge's column on how to get a rich guy, all you need to do is be yourself. If you lie to a guy just for love, then you're lying to yourself. If I could turn back the hands of time, just so I could tell Tristan that I loved him, I would. But I can't, so I would like to dedicate this article to people who have found their love, people who are still looking, and people who have love, but can't express it.
Rory woke up to murmurs of conversations, and Liz laughing, and crying, at least that's what it sounded like. She looked up and saw most of the staff crowding around her desk. They had all read the article and saw the potential this woman had. They also were applauding for the fact that she wrote from the heart and not from a textbook. "Thanks," she looked down, blushing a bit.
Once the crowd had gone away, Liz saw a blond man looking around looking for something. "Can I help you?" She asked, walking towards him.
He looked as if he was just snapped out of a daydream. His blond hair looked as if it hadn't been combed that morning and he was dressed in jeans and a blue button down shirt. "Do you know where Rory is?" Liz pointed to Rory's desk, which was currently supporting her head. "Thanks," He smiled genuinely.
He approached Rory's desk and sat down in the chair that was right next to her. Liz had only been occupying that spot moments before. "Do you always sleep in?" He asked quietly, getting ready to read the paper again.
Just when he had opened it up to the sports section, a tiny voice asked, "Is that the only section of the paper guys read? Sports?"
Tristan tilted the paper down so he could see Rory. "No. I also read the front page. It was a highly interesting article."
"Sorry, but I didn't use any of the tips you gave me." Rory apologized. It seemed like Tristan had never said those three words, and they hadn't parted ways a couple days ago.
He shrugged. "It's okay. You used one, and it was the most important." The man leaned forward and whispered in Rory's ear. "I'm sorry."
"Nope, I'm the one that couldn't say I love you." Rory explained. She felt the need to explain. "I've got a phobia of the 'love' word."
Tristan chuckled lightly. "Okay, you can work on that, because I've got to live in NYC for a while." He smiled. "My business is opening a new branch, and I volunteered to head the project."
Rory nodded. "Okay then. If you're here for a while, you are the one who is going to take me out for breakfast." She got her stuff.
Just as they were about to walk out, Mr. Beck stopped them. "Good article, kid. Now, since Joe is on vacation, you are the one who will be writing about the economic status of Iraq." Rory grinned widely, thanking heaven that it wasn't Marge's column again.
As they headed out the front door of the Times, Rory said, ever so casually, "By the way Tristan, I love you." She smiled and walked ahead of him a couple feet. Behind her, Tristan grinning for a different reason, he had finally gotten his Mary. The girl he had bantered with for most of his time at Chilton. And, he felt different about her caving in than he did years ago. Hmm, maybe he was meant to break into that safe.
Okay, the end. Thanks for reading if you got this far. So yeah, review if you want. Peace.
