I keep telling myself that I won't introduce anymore new characters, yet I keep doing the opposite. Paris will probably be the last mainstream character in the fic and she does play a significant role in later chapters. Be patient. I hope I do not offend anybody with my portrayal of Paris. This is my first time writing her.
Disclaimer: I never claim to own the Gilmore Girls and its plethora of quirky characters. However, I do lay claims on those few sucky peripheral characters that I made up. So much for creative talents.
Rory walked down the familiar hallway of her Alma Mater, stopping by only to give the familiar display cases fleeting glances. Although the old posters had long been replaced by newer ones, they still proudly distilled the research work of hard working grad students into simple diagrams and short sentences. She quickened her pace as she finally reached her destination. One of the many lecture theatres peppered across the Yale campus.
She slid noiselessly into the back row of seats pausing only momentarily to remember the last time she did this at an entirely different institution. Rory's faded Yale sweatshirt and khakis blended in perfectly with the others. She gave the room a quick glance and categorized the surrounding freshmen into two groups. Those that furiously scribbled down every precious word that came out of the lecturer's mouth and those that barely had the attention span to treat the course material with lazy disregard. The sight reminded her own freshman year when she took the exact same course.
Granted the person that used to sit beside her now stood before three hundred odd students lecturing them on cell division. But other than that, nothing much had changed. The lecture hall itself still had the uncanny power to induce people into sleep as proven by the few bobble heads scattered around the room. The chairs still made that squeaky noise if you shift around it too much. They still taught mitosis and meiosis in introductory cell biology.
By the way, mitosis and meiosis were just as boring as she remembered. Boring as hell.
As Paris blabbed on about chiasmata and metaphase, Rory paid more attention to her right wrist than the lecture. There, wrapped around her wrist, was a new charm bracelet courtesy of her boyfriend. The whimsical silver charms moved along with her hand gestures and she had gotten used to playing with the charms whenever she was bored.
She still remembered that day when Tristan surprised her when she got back from Stars Hollow.
It was a bright sunny afternoon and out of whim, they decided to go picnic in the park. Although it was still a little chilly, the scenery was simply too beautiful to miss. The best part came when they polished off the last almond cookie from the picnic basket and Tristan pulled the little gift box from the bottom of the basket.
"Why? It's not even my birthday!" Rory was surprised when he handed over the little blue box, but it was not at all an unpleasant surprise.
"It's doesn't have to be. Richard Burton used to get Elizabeth Taylor jewelry out of whim." She didn't want to remind him that Burton later divorced Taylor because a decade did nothing to lessen his guilt about leaving his first wife. But hey, why let that ruin the mood.
She tore away the wrapping paper with exuberant energy. She soon came upon the individually wrapped packages within the box. The pink tissue paper elicited a vision of miniature ballerinas nestled primly within the box. Rory simply couldn't contain her excitement. "For me?"
"Here." Tristan handed her the larger package, "Open this one first."
It took less than the blink of an eye before she extracted the silver bracelet from a crumbled mess of pink tissue paper. The bracelet glittered magnificently under the sun. There was a little medallion with their combined initials engraved on it. "It's beautiful!" she exclaimed.
"Wait till you see the rest of it."
The first little package revealed a cute little light bulb charm.
"I know. This is to motivate me when I need to write my next 2000 words."
"No you silly goose. This is for our first encounter." He held her closer and kissed the top of her head. "Well, our second first encounter." The better of the two.
She didn't know whether it was the silly goose comment or memories of that day in the hardware store. But a warm feeling spread through her body, giving her toes that pleasant tingly feeling. She curled up against Tristan. His intoxicating cologne only served to amplify that tingly feeling.
"Open the next one." He urged.
Her next charm was a beautiful antique glass bead. The clear aquamarine glass tangled with the darker lapis lazuli coloured ones. She watched with glee as Tristan fastened the charm onto her bracelet.
"Cute. I love it." She played with the little bead, following the mesmerizing pattern.
"It represents our history. We went way back." The bead also reminded him of her blue eyes.
He actually found it a few months ago when he was rummaging through his old toy chest at his grandparent's attic. It was something that his grandmother gave him when he was a kid. Tristan remembered the tears he shed when he lost the glass bead. He also remembered his ecstasy when he found it. He was still surprised at the emotional value he assigned to this unassuming little bauble.
"Next." Rory interrupted his thought when she excitingly pulled out another one from the box. It was a little wishbone.
"What good is a charm bracelet if it doesn't have a good luck charm." He said as he fastened it downstream from the glass bead.
"This also reminded me of that time we polished off the entire roast chicken in one sitting." The result of an insanely ambitious takeout order.
"If I remembered correctly, I had trouble looking at anything poultry for the next two weeks." Tristan absentmindedly rubbed his tummy as if the memory still haunted him.
Rory giggled with delight. She quickly diverted her attention back to the remaining little package. Although she loved all of her charms, most of her attention was concentrated onto the last little package. Something about its role as the grand finale fuelled her anticipation. It beckoned her to open it. She tore it apart when Tristan gave her the go ahead.
"A crown?" She looked at him quizzically as he fastened the last charm onto the bracelet. "What? No coffee bean charm?"
"Like you need anymore coffee-related paraphernalia." He scoffed.
"Nonsense. There's never too much." She slightly chided him. However, she was relieved that she didn't get anything coffee related. Honestly, her permanent attachment to her coffee mug was good enough testament to her coffee addiction. She didn't need a bracelet to remind her of that.
On a second thought, she didn't like the word "addiction." Perhaps "dependence" would be a better description.
"This is because you are my princess." He then fastened the bracelet on her outstretched wrist. "And this, is to remind you that how much I love you."
There it is. The big "L" word. And for once, she didn't feel the need to run away or puke when she heard the magic word. Everything else faded into a blur as those words repeated itself in her head. Tristan LOVED her. Rory could see the sincerity in his eyes. She remembered saying, "I love you too" before sharing the most passionate kiss with the man she loved.
Rory's daydream came to an abrupt end when a chaotic horde of freshmen tried to get past her seat in order to escape to the aisle. Nothing like the end of a class to give ordinary students Olympian reflexes. Even though there were no bells to remind them, they still instinctively bolted up when the second hand stroke twelve.
She politely stood up and let them walk by her. When they walked by, she couldn't help but tap into bits and pieces of their conversation. Most of them revolved plans for the upcoming weekend or the stress of having a seminar exam in less than a week. In mere minutes, the room was evacuated save for a few inquiring minds surrounding Paris. They were no doubt asking the most inane questions. Even though most of the time these questions had no direct correlation to the course subject.
How did Rory know? Well, Paris used to be the one that asked all the questions and she would drag Rory along with her. This carried on to a point where the professor would frantically pack up and leave whenever he saw Paris approaching. That was three weeks into the first semester.
Rory finally approached Paris when the last student was thoroughly satisfied with all the answers he acquired. "Hey, Bill Nye."
"Please tell me that's not the best you could come up with."
"How about Stephen Jay Gould?"
"Better," Paris said as she unplugged her laptop. "So, what did you think?"
As a grad student and a TA, Paris was all too familiar with doing the grunt work for her professors. She spent countless nights marking mediocre term papers and aggravating over simple mistakes that students made in their midterms. Occasionally, she was assigned to head small study groups. But today, her prof had agreed to let her teach a simple introductory course. He said it could prepare her for the future. Although the cell biology wasn't really her forte, she was nonetheless overjoyed by this extraordinary opportunity. Naturally, she didn't want to botch this.
"Not too bad."
"That's a half-ass answer." Paris protested. She stopped packing and gave Rory a scrutinizing look. "Did you even listen to a single word?"
"I did!" She defended herself. "Hey, I listened enough to see your disturbing little video on mitosis."
"There's nothing wrong with my mitosis video," Paris proclaimed adamantly.
"Umm, hello. Did you realize that they used the soundtrack from 2001: A Space Odyssey during that video? Stanley Kubrick is probably kicking his forehead in his grave because of this."
"Big deal. He's probably kicking his forehead already for making Eyes Wide Shut." She rebutted. "Let me guess. You tuned out in the first five minutes to think about Tristan."
"Whatever." Rory just dug her hands into her pockets and completely ignored Paris's correct claims. "You know I never enjoyed cell biology. Remember? I took it because I needed the science credits and you needed company. Besides, I'm not fervently devoted to the sciences like you."
Rory still remembered that one faithful day in front of the Harvard table when they she found out about Paris's college choice. She also remembered learning her aspirations of being a cancer researcher during Madeline's party. Though neither happened, Paris still continued in the field of sciences and was close to earning her doctorate in biochemistry.
"You're so predictable."
"I'm sure you didn't make me come all the way over here to lecture me on cell division or my wandering attention." She said as Paris finished packing. Rory hope to shed some light as to why she was in New Haven instead of New York.
Paris had called her earlier and insisted Rory to be here in person. She sounded distraught and in desperate need of familiar company. Without any questions, Rory dutifully asked for half a day off and drove all the way to New Haven. That's the least she could do for her friend of ten years.
"There's this little café a few blocks from campus. Let's go." Paris offered no further hint as to the reason why she called Rory. However, her face did show an uncommon lack of expression. An abrupt change from her former pleasant self.
Guess she'd find out later.
Once they had settled down to a little table by the window, Rory thought she would start telling her the reason behind the impromptu field trip. Instead, Paris remained silent even after the waiter brought over their coffees and desserts. While Rory attacked the strawberry shortcake with ferocious enthusiasm, Paris robotically stabbed her chocolate mousse torte with her fork. Her downcast eyes paid no attention to her surroundings. Paris was clearly in no mood for desserts.
After fifteen minutes of unbearable silence, Rory finally decided to speak up, "Still remember the day we met?"
"The day you broke my project."
"Geez. Build a bridge, get over it." Rory rolled her eyes. "I meant earlier than that. When you found out that not only was I interested in journalism, I wanted to be the next Christiane Armanopour."
"Is it me or did Christiane Armanpour looked like the fifth member of the Ramones?" She whimsically interrupted. They both stopped to chuckle at the visual, enjoying the much-welcomed detour from her melancholy mood. "Your point being."
"I remembered you yelling at me after receiving this new knowledge. Let's see if I still remember the words. 'This school is my domain and …'"
"The Franklin is my domain." Paris continued. "And don't you ever forget that."
"There you were yelling at me, a stranger, without any reservations while my biggest concern of the day was not to join the school newspaper, but finding my locker. Ever since that day, I know you're a person that will never hesitate to speak your mind." She took a sip of her coffee. "Don't hold back now. Not when you're with me, a person that had been there for all the ups and downs."
Paris placed the fork on top of the now deformed chocolate torte. "You know how I'm going to defend my thesis in two weeks."
"Of course. That's why I'm so surprised when you called me. I distinctly remember your plan of shutting yourself away from civilization while you prep for the big day."
"My mother called me yesterday, completely ignoring my 'emergency only' rule. While I'm wondering if my father finally got an aneurysm because of her, which is hardly surprising, she called because wanted me to go on a blind date. Correction, she told me that I'm going on a blind date. Her friend's son came back from Europe and I'm expected to smile and nod at whatever boring manifesto he had on the automotive industry."
"Umm, I don't think you have the time to wine and dine some strangers when you have a thesis to defend."
"My point exactly! After I told her about my thesis, rationally, she bitched out on me. She told me that I should be eternally grateful that there's still a single, eligible man of my age available for me to blind date. Then she went on some spiel about me having the audacity to be single while most of her friends' kids are happily married, holding charity soirées in their backyard and attending DAR meetings. Apparently, I'm now the bane of her existence because I'm not married, and therefore I don't have a son and consequently I don't have to look for private schools for my yet unborn kid." Paris could no longer contain her anger and frustration. Fortunately, the café was empty save for the two of them. There were no unwanted audiences to Paris's unscripted rage.
"Is you mom dying to be a grandmother?" Even Rory realized the absurdity of her suggestion when she said it out loud.
"That's bullshit! Nothing spells out old age like grandkids or botox. No, no, no. She wanted a grandkid just so she can have a conversation topic, so she won't be left out when the bimbo brigade prattle on about baby Burberry. Why can't they talk about the weather like poor people?"
This wasn't the first time Paris complained to Rory about her mother's atrocious behavior. Usually, the rage would subside after a few strawberry daiquiris. But now Rory wasn't sure if she could calm Paris down. Though she was usually the one to hold her back, even the mild-natured Rory felt that Mrs. Geller had crossed the line a little bit too far.
"Rory, I'm a PhD student, not some bum living off grandpa's trust fund. I am an intelligent human being and my intelligence is recognized by my peers. I had numerous journal articles under my name and my research on prions does have practical applications. I already have a postdoctoral fellowship secured at the Rockefeller Institute. I have done something that most people can only dream about.
"Yet according to my mother, my achievement was based on the amount of marriages that I could accumulate. I should be a Hartford wife. The kind that doesn't work, cook, clean or raise my own children. The fact that I'm an accomplished individual on my own was overlooked. Am I worth only as much as the man I end up marrying? Am I doomed to live in futility just because I'm a Geller and my family just happens to be stinking rich?" She emphasized her point by madly pounding her fork into the chaotic mess of chocolate mousse.
Rory could offer no words of comfort. Lorelai was never that kind of mother. Even her pushy grandparents never resorted to blind date however anxious they were during her single days. She never understood the pressure that Paris had to go through. And now that she's happily dating Tristan, relationship angst was pretty much non-existent.
Paris knew that too. She didn't expect Rory to solve her lurid life troubles. Nor did she expect her to dispense arcane revelations. Paris just wanted somebody to listen to her rant. Somebody that understood why she stubbornly refused to succumb to her mother's ridiculous requests. A person that could calm her down while he was blinded by her anger toward her mother.
Of course realized that Rory could easily accomplish all of the above on the phone. But rational mentality wasn't an easy thing to come by these days and it wasn't until she finished raging did she recognize this fact.
"Thanks for driving all the way up here to hear me rant." She sheepishly said.
"Don't worry." Rory reached across the table and gave Paris a reassuring pat.
"It's just … I don't know … this thesis thing is stressful enough as it is and above that, I have to deal with my mother." Paris took a swig from her soy cappuccino. "Sometimes, I just want to talk to a familiar face."
Despite of her years in New Haven, Paris didn't have any close friends in the confines of Yale. Perhaps her aggressive attitude was off-putting. Perhaps she spent too much time in her lab. Perhaps she was content with Rory and never tried hard at making new acquaintances. In any case, the only person she felt comfortable baring her soul to was Rory.
"I know you're a little high strung right now and I understand." Rory finished the last of her dessert. "How about this. When you're done defending your thesis, just come over. The two of us can catch an off-Broadway show or something. You know, just chill and relax and forget all about your family obligations. Heck, I'll even supply the margarita mix. Deal?"
"Deal." And for the first time that day, Rory saw Paris smiled.