A/N: I'm sorry. Sorry fort he delay. I sent this nearly two weeks ago to
Madz, but she doesn't answer my emails. Anyway, all this to explain that
this chapter hasn't been beta-read, deal with the fact that I'm French and
that my writing must be apocalyptical. The part between *~** is a
flashback, I just don't know how write it in bold or something.
Oh... I guess nobody received my cookies, right? I sent my owl (sorry,
Harry Potter fan here...) but I guess it ate them all before reaching
you.... Like owl, like master, lol.
Fire'N'Ice: Hey you! It's been a time, I miss you *pout*. No my dear, sorry, you're not supposed to eat dog biscuits, but you can give them to lil Jess if you want, lol. Ahem... *innocent smirk*
Pearls 24: Of course you want cookies duh! Everybody wants them, he he he. Thanks, I like to reply to reviews, even if some people begin to find the length of my A/N annoying in my HP fic... to be honest, I don't know where it comes from. I think there's a lot more to Tristan than what is shown in the show and this idea just popped out of nowhere or nearly. I'm writing a HP fic about abuse too, so maybe I just stuck to it, I don't know. I'll try to keep up the good work, keep up the good reviews!
Lindsay: thanks! I don't know if it's an amazing piece of literature (though your compliment makes me smile madly) but for fanfic, I guess it's not so bad.
GOOFYGIRL: Lol, you say that for nearly every chapter! Does it mean you love my story more each time I post something? *pout* No? Et plus de Français non plus... so disappointing, he he he.
Jalna: I have to point out that this is AU. Of course, being totally upset that French channels never aired the first season till the end, I checked things on the Internet to know a bit more about the show, but I don't want to use things lightly. I try to keep people in character and do something out of it. The Tristan you see in this story is just another part of his personality, just like Paris, for example.
Piper-h-99: I update, I update... When I can, when I have a chapter written, when my dad doesn't sleep in front of the computer... Updating is really a tough work, lol.
Moi: Do you love dog biscuits too? They're really not as yummi as cookies. No, I haven't tried, but even my granny's dog prefers cookies to dog biscuits so I assume they're much better. I'm rambling, don't bother, lol.
Deeta: I sent you the cookie, but as stated somewhere up there, it certainly was eaten by that moronic owl of mine... *innocent smirk*. Lol, yes, you mentioned amazing. Four times *twirl* thanks for the compliment. Honestly, would someone like Tristan let Rory pry?
Cblotnicky: I never told you, but your name makes me laugh. Sorry, don't take it wrong, I move on now... *sheepish smile* this was the biggest compliment that one could make to this fic! All tough guys should have a Ria, he he he.
Kellene: yep, you missed the last update, I'm angry at you. No, don't beg, I won't reply to your review *pout* *looks at the screen and realises that she's indeed replying* Okaaaay... But it's only coz it's you! Well, wait wait and wait. That's all I can say... No, I'm not implying that she won't find out!
Miarae: you...were...crying? Great compliment to an angst writer, our aim is to make people cry after all. I wanted Paris to be touching and human, I guess the goal is reached. I try to update every week, but as you see, I totally failed this time...
Smile1: Hey faithful reviewer who writes long long reviews, lol. Okaaay... so if I follow correctly, you thought chapter 5 was extremely good, chapter 6 even better but they're not your fav. So your fav is even better, huh? Lol, I can be such an annoying bitch. Dark is good *nods manically* Yep, she'll confront him about it. Next chapter. Ria will have her glorious blowing-up time, don't worry, he he he. Paris' pov is my fav in this chapter, you're not so weird. Or we're both weird, but who cares in the end?
Ally: Rory will help him, but how can she for now? things seem rather screwed, aren't they? Continue to read, I hope I don't disappoint.
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Chapter 7:
It was three am and a cold breeze was whistling around the hangar of the Nowhere Kids, blowing in the cracked iron sheets that were blocking the entrances and the broken windows. Ria was sleeping rather peacefully, wrapped in a dirty blanket, but warm and at least not hungry anymore. Knowing that she was safe for now, Tristan left his place next to her and started to wander around. A few other teenagers were up but the younger ones were currently deep inside the realm of dreams.
Tristan climbed the old metallic ladder that was leading to narrow footbridges hanging high in the air. He sat on the edge of one and let his feet dandle over the side. From this spot, he could see the whole hangar and the sky through a broken window near the roof. He sat there for two hours, just trying to shape up everything that had happened in only one day.
"You're wondering why you should go back instead of staying here," stated a voice coming from the shadows below him.
He craned his neck over the footbridge and saw Liam's green eyes staring up right at him. The boy climbed with agility and soon sat next to Tristan.
"I am. Things would be a lot easier for me." He was still fixing the moon through the broken glass.
"Who said things were easier here? Problems are different, that's all. Your life's maybe shit, but ours aren't much better. And your sister deserves better."
Tristan laughed bitterly. "I'm aware of that, she deserves more than I can give her." He shook his head "I just don't want to go back and face that again, I'm tired of it all."
"You know, the only real difference between you and us is that you're alone. You don't have friends that you can trust?"
Tristan's fingers turned in a fist and he clenched his teeth. He very well knew that he had no friend, that it was all superficial and that his schoolmates didn't really matter. People were crawling in front of him to gain a spotlight, girls were doing everything they could to put him in their beds just because of his looks and for their reputations. Yes, he loved playing and manipulating them like this, he loved the power he had on them, the fact that he could crush them if he wanted, but that wasn't friendship. If you're a king, you can't show weakness at any time. You have no heart and you surf on life and its problems with no conscience.
"No," he finally answered in an aggressive tone.
"You're screwed, man." Tristan chuckled without any conviction at Liam's attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
"Hey, why don't you give that girl a chance? The one you talked about yesterday. She wants to help you, right?"
"She can't understand."
Liam sighed and directed his gaze to the ground where people were slowly getting up and lighting the extinguished fires again. "You can stay till lunch time. Then I don't want to see you around here again till you've tried another solution or we won't be as nice as yesterday night, you hear me?" He got up and nearly jumped from the top of the ladder to go and supervise some food distribution.
Tristan watched Ria who was looked after by Alex. The two girls were laughing and running around the place to keep warm. Other kids joined them and soon, the whole hangar echoed with their laughter and cries. Tristan knew that Liam was right. He wasn't allowed to give up and drag his sister down to a life of hunger and cold. He mentally slapped himself for having been so weak and vulnerable these days, for having let Rory Gilmore spot something she shouldn't have and for having even thought of letting go.
He got up and climbed down the ladder. He was ready to go back, ready to face them all again and to hurt them if necessary. Hurt. An image of Paris quickly flashed in his mind but he pushed it aside forcefully. Nobody mattered but Ria. He would save her and he wouldn't need help. The dreadful day was behind for a year, he had come out of it stronger, with sharper iron walls. Yesterday, he was weak and miserable; today, he was burying his heart deeper under the ice. The war was starting again and he would win.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*Paris' pov*
What am I doing here? Why am I standing in this street and why am I looking at the light at this window?
Tears are streaming down my face and freeze half way through my cheeks. The pavement is cold and windy and I'm clutching my favourite photo album in my arms. It would be so simple just to get up this alley and knock on the door. There I would be warm and someone would be there.
*~**
"Paris, wait, we have to talk!"
Paris spun around. "No, we haven't. I told you to leave him alone and you were stubborn. He's not here today and I don't know where he is, ok? I don't know because he's not my friend and I don't know because I don't care. Now, if you don't mind, I've got other things to do, some people actually work in this school."
Rory stopped dead in her tracks at this discourse, but grabbed Paris arm before the girl was too far. "You're a liar, Paris Gellar. Maybe you don't know where he is, but you do care and I know it. I saw it when I dragged you out for some drink and when I phoned yesterday evening. I'm leaving you alone, but if you want to talk, you know where I live, right? I'll be there tonight." And with that, she let go of her and turned on her heel.
Paris looked at her receding back for a few seconds before shaking herself awake. She was surprised that Rory told her that and she didn't know what to think of it. What she knew was that she wouldn't go to her house this evening, she didn't want to speak.
**~*
I know that someone would be there for me because Rory said she would be waiting. And I'm here, in front of her house, but my feet don't want to move anymore. My brain tells me to go on and my heart wants me to run away back home.
Suddenly, their front door open and a plump red-haired woman comes out. She's giggling and talks very fast. Another woman comes out behind her. She's got black hair and is tall and elegant. It's Rory's mom, she looks at lot like her. As they start to stroll down the alley, my brain command to my feet to move. They don't. And now it's too late, the two figures come in my direction. The plump woman talks first.
"Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?" her tone is sweet and caring she doesn't giggle that much anymore. I don't answer and look stubbornly at the pavement. I know it's only a matter of seconds that Rory's mother spots my Chilton uniform. I was such in a hurry that I didn't even take time to change. I was so blinded with anger that I totally forgot about it.
"You're at school with Rory? Are you here to see her?" finally asks her mother.
I'm still fixing the pavement but I find myself nodding. Why did my body suddenly decided to be active again? A hand gently grabs my shoulder and leads me to the front door, I'm petrified, I don't know how I walked there, my heart screams at me to run and take the first bus back to Hartford, back to my little hole where I could either bury myself under work, either torture myself with the past.
"Paris? You ok? Come in." Another hand grabs my arm and pulls me inside the house. Rory makes me sit on the couch and I hear her say goodbye to her mother. I soon find myself with a cup of strong black tea in front of me and a Rory Gilmore sitting next to me, silent and waiting that I speak. I hate that situation, I hate that they found me in a trance, crying stupidly in front of the house, I hate that I'm not in control of myself and of the situation.
"My parents decided that I need psychotherapy." The words are strangled as they come out of my throat, the ball in there hurts so much that I can hardly breathe.
"Why?" Rory asks in a surprised voice.
"Because they say I'm obsessed." I look up to meet her eyes. "They say I can't get over the death of Tristan's mother and over the fact that we grew apart and drifted away from each other." I trail off, remembering last night's party. My voice becomes a whisper, a hopeless murmur. "They decided to have a party yesterday night. How could they? They knew it was an important day and they had a Christmas dinner and dance with people who don't mean anything to them. I got so mad..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*Rory's pov*
I feel disgusted when I hear what Paris' parents have done. Can't they take their daughter's feelings into consideration? What would it have cost them just to postpone the party to the Saturday or Sunday? Would it have changed anything? I let my eyes wander around, I don't really know what to say or what to do so I just stay silent and silence doesn't exactly help. My eyes fall on the album she brought with her.
"You can have a look at it, I brought it for you."
I mumble a thanks and take the album in my hands. It's cornered and it looks old. It seems to be very used, as if the pages were turned all the time. I open it slowly, I'm not sure if I can really look at the pictures in it, if I can look at Paris' life from such a personal point of view. There's a title on the first page, written in green ink in a childish writing, unsure and not very well formed: Paris and Tristan. I already feel like an intruder and I hardly dare turn to the next page.
Finally, I go through the whole book. Pictures from early childhood to pre- teenage years. Paris and Tristan always together. Both of them look different, innocent and oblivious. Happy. I only recognize Tristan because of his appearance. On these obviously treasured pictures, he's not the cocky arrogant bastard that I met from day one in medieval torture chamber; He's a kid that would make the saddest person smile with his big innocent blue eyes. Pacific blue eyes, would say Mom and I smile as I think about how right she was. Not knowing him at all and just judging him from what she saw that day in the mall, she immediately got a clearer impression than me and I see him everyday.
As my trembling fingers turn the pages, I see both their lives unfold in front of me. I wouldn't understand how they became what they are now if I didn't know what happened later on. Even through the oldest pictures I can feel how much their friendship was intense, like brother and sister. Some pages are warped, someone cried on them. Someone who hurt a lot, the same person that is now sitting in my living room. I close the book and stare at Paris. She calmed down a bit and I smile at her.
"I know I'm impolite, but can I stay here tonight?" she asks shyly.
My spirits lift a bit as the words come out of her mouth. I didn't even expect her to show up tonight and now she asks to stay? This is my chance to learn something more about Tristan, the chance to make a friend in Chilton, the chance to change things...
"Of course! But only if you know how to make coffee. We do not accept non- initiates."
"Gilmore, you know I beat you at everything, even coffee-making." She smirks and old Paris is back. I laugh out loud and head for the kitchen; time to check her knowledge in the sacred subject.
.................
It's late now and Paris is sleeping on the mattress next to my bed. I hear her breathing steadily and softly. As for myself, sleep has disappeared to Wonderland. All I can do is think about What Paris confessed about her feelings. How she missed Tristan, how she hated the jerk he had become, how she wished for things to change. How he closed up so much...
He wasn't at school today and I'm still wondering where he was, I didn't have the courage to phone him and have his father hung up on me. I see him and his sister in front of the graveyard again. Ria. It was her birthday, said Paris tonight. I now understand how their mother died and I'm even more impressed with the little girl. How can she bear that? How can't she think that she's guilty? It must be so tough for her.
As those thoughts twirl in my head, sleep comes back unnoticed and starts its work.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*Alex's pov*
Ria and Tristan have left around midday. I was a bit sad because of their leaving, it was nice to have somebody coming from somewhere talk with me. Now, Liam and I, with some others are strolling down the deserted streets. It's midnight and we're looking for food. We come across a small grocery and I can see Liam smirk in the dark: we've found our target. He seizes the brick he had tucked in his bag before leaving our City and throws it with all his strength in the shop window. A flying shard of glass cuts my cheek but I don't care, tomorrow, we'll have food.
The scattered pieces of window crutch under our feet and we hear someone yell to call the cops. I smile evilly, we're quicker than them, and even if they catch us, we stay silent and as we're underage, they're obliged to let us out after 24 hours. Inside the grocery, we run everywhere to gather what we need. I pile powder milk in my dirty backpack and Liam suddenly shouts the leaving signal.
We start to run, dispersing in the neighbouring streets. Liam and I take a small dead end street but we know that we can jump over the wall and go through some wire nettings to arrive to the City. As we flee, I clutch my knife in my pocket, fearing an encounter with some other street people. My old shoes clack on the pavement and I can hear Liam's shallow breathing ahead of me.
When we finally reach the street where the hangar lays, we spot the cops not far from us. We duck behind a pile of trash and settle down, we know they'll be there for a while. I take this opportunity to talk with Liam a bit, since we're on the streets, we're not as close as before and he's rather busy.
"What did you say to Tristan?" I whisper, trying to catch my breath again.
"Something I hope made him understand that his battle is not lost." He replies while pulling out some stolen cigarettes. I sigh and light a cig. Ria told me what Tristan was doing for her, she told me about how he was protecting her, how she knew he was lying because he didn't want to worry her. I look at Liam who's sprawled on the ground, his backpack under his head. I find myself in Ria, and I hate myself for being such a charge for my brother. He's got his eyes closed but tiredness is written all over him.
I look above the pile of litters and see that the cops are leaving. I shake Liam awake and we finally arrive home. Finally.
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Ok... since my stupid owl ate all the cookies last time, I guess I won't give you some again, but would you be so kind as to review? I need something to cheer me up, my inbox is desperately empty...
Fire'N'Ice: Hey you! It's been a time, I miss you *pout*. No my dear, sorry, you're not supposed to eat dog biscuits, but you can give them to lil Jess if you want, lol. Ahem... *innocent smirk*
Pearls 24: Of course you want cookies duh! Everybody wants them, he he he. Thanks, I like to reply to reviews, even if some people begin to find the length of my A/N annoying in my HP fic... to be honest, I don't know where it comes from. I think there's a lot more to Tristan than what is shown in the show and this idea just popped out of nowhere or nearly. I'm writing a HP fic about abuse too, so maybe I just stuck to it, I don't know. I'll try to keep up the good work, keep up the good reviews!
Lindsay: thanks! I don't know if it's an amazing piece of literature (though your compliment makes me smile madly) but for fanfic, I guess it's not so bad.
GOOFYGIRL: Lol, you say that for nearly every chapter! Does it mean you love my story more each time I post something? *pout* No? Et plus de Français non plus... so disappointing, he he he.
Jalna: I have to point out that this is AU. Of course, being totally upset that French channels never aired the first season till the end, I checked things on the Internet to know a bit more about the show, but I don't want to use things lightly. I try to keep people in character and do something out of it. The Tristan you see in this story is just another part of his personality, just like Paris, for example.
Piper-h-99: I update, I update... When I can, when I have a chapter written, when my dad doesn't sleep in front of the computer... Updating is really a tough work, lol.
Moi: Do you love dog biscuits too? They're really not as yummi as cookies. No, I haven't tried, but even my granny's dog prefers cookies to dog biscuits so I assume they're much better. I'm rambling, don't bother, lol.
Deeta: I sent you the cookie, but as stated somewhere up there, it certainly was eaten by that moronic owl of mine... *innocent smirk*. Lol, yes, you mentioned amazing. Four times *twirl* thanks for the compliment. Honestly, would someone like Tristan let Rory pry?
Cblotnicky: I never told you, but your name makes me laugh. Sorry, don't take it wrong, I move on now... *sheepish smile* this was the biggest compliment that one could make to this fic! All tough guys should have a Ria, he he he.
Kellene: yep, you missed the last update, I'm angry at you. No, don't beg, I won't reply to your review *pout* *looks at the screen and realises that she's indeed replying* Okaaaay... But it's only coz it's you! Well, wait wait and wait. That's all I can say... No, I'm not implying that she won't find out!
Miarae: you...were...crying? Great compliment to an angst writer, our aim is to make people cry after all. I wanted Paris to be touching and human, I guess the goal is reached. I try to update every week, but as you see, I totally failed this time...
Smile1: Hey faithful reviewer who writes long long reviews, lol. Okaaay... so if I follow correctly, you thought chapter 5 was extremely good, chapter 6 even better but they're not your fav. So your fav is even better, huh? Lol, I can be such an annoying bitch. Dark is good *nods manically* Yep, she'll confront him about it. Next chapter. Ria will have her glorious blowing-up time, don't worry, he he he. Paris' pov is my fav in this chapter, you're not so weird. Or we're both weird, but who cares in the end?
Ally: Rory will help him, but how can she for now? things seem rather screwed, aren't they? Continue to read, I hope I don't disappoint.
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Chapter 7:
It was three am and a cold breeze was whistling around the hangar of the Nowhere Kids, blowing in the cracked iron sheets that were blocking the entrances and the broken windows. Ria was sleeping rather peacefully, wrapped in a dirty blanket, but warm and at least not hungry anymore. Knowing that she was safe for now, Tristan left his place next to her and started to wander around. A few other teenagers were up but the younger ones were currently deep inside the realm of dreams.
Tristan climbed the old metallic ladder that was leading to narrow footbridges hanging high in the air. He sat on the edge of one and let his feet dandle over the side. From this spot, he could see the whole hangar and the sky through a broken window near the roof. He sat there for two hours, just trying to shape up everything that had happened in only one day.
"You're wondering why you should go back instead of staying here," stated a voice coming from the shadows below him.
He craned his neck over the footbridge and saw Liam's green eyes staring up right at him. The boy climbed with agility and soon sat next to Tristan.
"I am. Things would be a lot easier for me." He was still fixing the moon through the broken glass.
"Who said things were easier here? Problems are different, that's all. Your life's maybe shit, but ours aren't much better. And your sister deserves better."
Tristan laughed bitterly. "I'm aware of that, she deserves more than I can give her." He shook his head "I just don't want to go back and face that again, I'm tired of it all."
"You know, the only real difference between you and us is that you're alone. You don't have friends that you can trust?"
Tristan's fingers turned in a fist and he clenched his teeth. He very well knew that he had no friend, that it was all superficial and that his schoolmates didn't really matter. People were crawling in front of him to gain a spotlight, girls were doing everything they could to put him in their beds just because of his looks and for their reputations. Yes, he loved playing and manipulating them like this, he loved the power he had on them, the fact that he could crush them if he wanted, but that wasn't friendship. If you're a king, you can't show weakness at any time. You have no heart and you surf on life and its problems with no conscience.
"No," he finally answered in an aggressive tone.
"You're screwed, man." Tristan chuckled without any conviction at Liam's attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
"Hey, why don't you give that girl a chance? The one you talked about yesterday. She wants to help you, right?"
"She can't understand."
Liam sighed and directed his gaze to the ground where people were slowly getting up and lighting the extinguished fires again. "You can stay till lunch time. Then I don't want to see you around here again till you've tried another solution or we won't be as nice as yesterday night, you hear me?" He got up and nearly jumped from the top of the ladder to go and supervise some food distribution.
Tristan watched Ria who was looked after by Alex. The two girls were laughing and running around the place to keep warm. Other kids joined them and soon, the whole hangar echoed with their laughter and cries. Tristan knew that Liam was right. He wasn't allowed to give up and drag his sister down to a life of hunger and cold. He mentally slapped himself for having been so weak and vulnerable these days, for having let Rory Gilmore spot something she shouldn't have and for having even thought of letting go.
He got up and climbed down the ladder. He was ready to go back, ready to face them all again and to hurt them if necessary. Hurt. An image of Paris quickly flashed in his mind but he pushed it aside forcefully. Nobody mattered but Ria. He would save her and he wouldn't need help. The dreadful day was behind for a year, he had come out of it stronger, with sharper iron walls. Yesterday, he was weak and miserable; today, he was burying his heart deeper under the ice. The war was starting again and he would win.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*Paris' pov*
What am I doing here? Why am I standing in this street and why am I looking at the light at this window?
Tears are streaming down my face and freeze half way through my cheeks. The pavement is cold and windy and I'm clutching my favourite photo album in my arms. It would be so simple just to get up this alley and knock on the door. There I would be warm and someone would be there.
*~**
"Paris, wait, we have to talk!"
Paris spun around. "No, we haven't. I told you to leave him alone and you were stubborn. He's not here today and I don't know where he is, ok? I don't know because he's not my friend and I don't know because I don't care. Now, if you don't mind, I've got other things to do, some people actually work in this school."
Rory stopped dead in her tracks at this discourse, but grabbed Paris arm before the girl was too far. "You're a liar, Paris Gellar. Maybe you don't know where he is, but you do care and I know it. I saw it when I dragged you out for some drink and when I phoned yesterday evening. I'm leaving you alone, but if you want to talk, you know where I live, right? I'll be there tonight." And with that, she let go of her and turned on her heel.
Paris looked at her receding back for a few seconds before shaking herself awake. She was surprised that Rory told her that and she didn't know what to think of it. What she knew was that she wouldn't go to her house this evening, she didn't want to speak.
**~*
I know that someone would be there for me because Rory said she would be waiting. And I'm here, in front of her house, but my feet don't want to move anymore. My brain tells me to go on and my heart wants me to run away back home.
Suddenly, their front door open and a plump red-haired woman comes out. She's giggling and talks very fast. Another woman comes out behind her. She's got black hair and is tall and elegant. It's Rory's mom, she looks at lot like her. As they start to stroll down the alley, my brain command to my feet to move. They don't. And now it's too late, the two figures come in my direction. The plump woman talks first.
"Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?" her tone is sweet and caring she doesn't giggle that much anymore. I don't answer and look stubbornly at the pavement. I know it's only a matter of seconds that Rory's mother spots my Chilton uniform. I was such in a hurry that I didn't even take time to change. I was so blinded with anger that I totally forgot about it.
"You're at school with Rory? Are you here to see her?" finally asks her mother.
I'm still fixing the pavement but I find myself nodding. Why did my body suddenly decided to be active again? A hand gently grabs my shoulder and leads me to the front door, I'm petrified, I don't know how I walked there, my heart screams at me to run and take the first bus back to Hartford, back to my little hole where I could either bury myself under work, either torture myself with the past.
"Paris? You ok? Come in." Another hand grabs my arm and pulls me inside the house. Rory makes me sit on the couch and I hear her say goodbye to her mother. I soon find myself with a cup of strong black tea in front of me and a Rory Gilmore sitting next to me, silent and waiting that I speak. I hate that situation, I hate that they found me in a trance, crying stupidly in front of the house, I hate that I'm not in control of myself and of the situation.
"My parents decided that I need psychotherapy." The words are strangled as they come out of my throat, the ball in there hurts so much that I can hardly breathe.
"Why?" Rory asks in a surprised voice.
"Because they say I'm obsessed." I look up to meet her eyes. "They say I can't get over the death of Tristan's mother and over the fact that we grew apart and drifted away from each other." I trail off, remembering last night's party. My voice becomes a whisper, a hopeless murmur. "They decided to have a party yesterday night. How could they? They knew it was an important day and they had a Christmas dinner and dance with people who don't mean anything to them. I got so mad..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*Rory's pov*
I feel disgusted when I hear what Paris' parents have done. Can't they take their daughter's feelings into consideration? What would it have cost them just to postpone the party to the Saturday or Sunday? Would it have changed anything? I let my eyes wander around, I don't really know what to say or what to do so I just stay silent and silence doesn't exactly help. My eyes fall on the album she brought with her.
"You can have a look at it, I brought it for you."
I mumble a thanks and take the album in my hands. It's cornered and it looks old. It seems to be very used, as if the pages were turned all the time. I open it slowly, I'm not sure if I can really look at the pictures in it, if I can look at Paris' life from such a personal point of view. There's a title on the first page, written in green ink in a childish writing, unsure and not very well formed: Paris and Tristan. I already feel like an intruder and I hardly dare turn to the next page.
Finally, I go through the whole book. Pictures from early childhood to pre- teenage years. Paris and Tristan always together. Both of them look different, innocent and oblivious. Happy. I only recognize Tristan because of his appearance. On these obviously treasured pictures, he's not the cocky arrogant bastard that I met from day one in medieval torture chamber; He's a kid that would make the saddest person smile with his big innocent blue eyes. Pacific blue eyes, would say Mom and I smile as I think about how right she was. Not knowing him at all and just judging him from what she saw that day in the mall, she immediately got a clearer impression than me and I see him everyday.
As my trembling fingers turn the pages, I see both their lives unfold in front of me. I wouldn't understand how they became what they are now if I didn't know what happened later on. Even through the oldest pictures I can feel how much their friendship was intense, like brother and sister. Some pages are warped, someone cried on them. Someone who hurt a lot, the same person that is now sitting in my living room. I close the book and stare at Paris. She calmed down a bit and I smile at her.
"I know I'm impolite, but can I stay here tonight?" she asks shyly.
My spirits lift a bit as the words come out of her mouth. I didn't even expect her to show up tonight and now she asks to stay? This is my chance to learn something more about Tristan, the chance to make a friend in Chilton, the chance to change things...
"Of course! But only if you know how to make coffee. We do not accept non- initiates."
"Gilmore, you know I beat you at everything, even coffee-making." She smirks and old Paris is back. I laugh out loud and head for the kitchen; time to check her knowledge in the sacred subject.
.................
It's late now and Paris is sleeping on the mattress next to my bed. I hear her breathing steadily and softly. As for myself, sleep has disappeared to Wonderland. All I can do is think about What Paris confessed about her feelings. How she missed Tristan, how she hated the jerk he had become, how she wished for things to change. How he closed up so much...
He wasn't at school today and I'm still wondering where he was, I didn't have the courage to phone him and have his father hung up on me. I see him and his sister in front of the graveyard again. Ria. It was her birthday, said Paris tonight. I now understand how their mother died and I'm even more impressed with the little girl. How can she bear that? How can't she think that she's guilty? It must be so tough for her.
As those thoughts twirl in my head, sleep comes back unnoticed and starts its work.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*Alex's pov*
Ria and Tristan have left around midday. I was a bit sad because of their leaving, it was nice to have somebody coming from somewhere talk with me. Now, Liam and I, with some others are strolling down the deserted streets. It's midnight and we're looking for food. We come across a small grocery and I can see Liam smirk in the dark: we've found our target. He seizes the brick he had tucked in his bag before leaving our City and throws it with all his strength in the shop window. A flying shard of glass cuts my cheek but I don't care, tomorrow, we'll have food.
The scattered pieces of window crutch under our feet and we hear someone yell to call the cops. I smile evilly, we're quicker than them, and even if they catch us, we stay silent and as we're underage, they're obliged to let us out after 24 hours. Inside the grocery, we run everywhere to gather what we need. I pile powder milk in my dirty backpack and Liam suddenly shouts the leaving signal.
We start to run, dispersing in the neighbouring streets. Liam and I take a small dead end street but we know that we can jump over the wall and go through some wire nettings to arrive to the City. As we flee, I clutch my knife in my pocket, fearing an encounter with some other street people. My old shoes clack on the pavement and I can hear Liam's shallow breathing ahead of me.
When we finally reach the street where the hangar lays, we spot the cops not far from us. We duck behind a pile of trash and settle down, we know they'll be there for a while. I take this opportunity to talk with Liam a bit, since we're on the streets, we're not as close as before and he's rather busy.
"What did you say to Tristan?" I whisper, trying to catch my breath again.
"Something I hope made him understand that his battle is not lost." He replies while pulling out some stolen cigarettes. I sigh and light a cig. Ria told me what Tristan was doing for her, she told me about how he was protecting her, how she knew he was lying because he didn't want to worry her. I look at Liam who's sprawled on the ground, his backpack under his head. I find myself in Ria, and I hate myself for being such a charge for my brother. He's got his eyes closed but tiredness is written all over him.
I look above the pile of litters and see that the cops are leaving. I shake Liam awake and we finally arrive home. Finally.
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Ok... since my stupid owl ate all the cookies last time, I guess I won't give you some again, but would you be so kind as to review? I need something to cheer me up, my inbox is desperately empty...