Chapter 3

Disclaimer- this chapter is almost completely different than the old version. In a good way. I hope. I don't own any of the things I didn't own in the other disclaimers, I also don't own NYU, they probably own me though. (No joke, the own like half of NYC.)

Christian couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw red hair imprinted on the backs of his eyelids.. By dawn he had given up and got dressed. The sun was just rising and through his window he saw the illuminated silhouettes buildings and pink steam rising of the river. Somewhere commuters where beginning to creep like black bugs through the streets, stores were opening their fronts and Satine was opening her eyes and for a moment forgetting who she was.

It was this time of day when Christian felt the most inspired. On mornings like this one hope still existed so thick you could almost taste it. Christian opened his note book, but although he was bursting with new feelings he couldn't think of words, only the pounding of his heart and the soaring in his ears. He hadn't been able to write since he came to the city. For Christian, this was new, since for him writing was like breathing. Not that breathing came easily in the smoggy city either.

Deciding to leave before the sun got too hot; Christian collected his bag from behind the couch, which was the only piece of furniture in the room except his mattress. Outside the streets were less bustling than they had been the previous morning. He was able to buy a coffee from the nearest Starbucks without having to wait twenty minutes. He was still drinking it when he arrived at class, getting lost only once on the way there.

Most of the students hadn't arrived yet, so he was free to sit where ever he liked. He chose a seat in the back where he still had an excellent view of the board. While he waited for class to begin, he buried himself in the pages of a paperback. He was so absorbed he didn't hear anyone enter the room.

"Hey," said a voice from beside him. Christian didn't look up immediately, not registering that someone was talking to him. When he did, he saw a short, pleasant looking boy with dark, unruly curls standing over him.

"Hello," said Christian slowly.

"I was in Art History with you, maybe you don't remember me, I'm Henry Thompson," Henry said. He had a slight lisp but it was the sort that gave him personality rather than making him sound comical.

"Christian James, I think I saw you there,"

"Good book," said Henry, nodding towards Christian's book The Catcher in the Rye. "One of my favorites." The topic of Holden Caulfield carried them until the rest of the class filed in. Some of Henry's friends had come to sit with them. Henry introduced them to him one by one and Christian worked to remember their names.

"This is Nini and Tino," he said.

Nini was the short, pretty girl with the crochet scarf. She had straight dark hair and was wearing very battered looking jeans with a faded dye t-shirt. Tino, a tall, unshaven guy wearing had one arm draped lazily around her waist.

Satie was the next to meet Christian. He smiled coolly when he saw him and sat in his chair like it was a throne. He was cool, Christian though, with his tattoos, shaven head and leather jacket (despite the 90 degree weather). He looked like he's walked out of the 1980s.

Lastly he was introduced to Audrey, who looking at him suspiciously at took a seat at the end of the row. She alone looked like someone he'd have met in public school. She opened her mouth, perhaps to say something rude, but was cut off as the lesson began.

Christian was enthralled by the lecture; writing for the theater had always been something that held his interest. He was finding it hard to concentrate with Henry's friends there. Henry himself kept his head down as he took notes, but Nini and Tino were silently doing something Christian couldn't see that was shaking the seat, Satie was humming and tapping his desk and Audrey snorted and looked at the Professor with disbelief every few sentences as though he was preaching something offensive rather than outlining the course.

When the class ended Christian's head was buzzing with ideas for his thesis. He was tempted to run home to begin it now, skipping lunch entirely, but Henry stopped him on the way out.

"Christian come to lunch with us!" he said.

"Well- alright then," he agreed hesitantly, following the group outside.

"Where are we eating?" asked Nini.

"Not the diner again." Audrey said, wrinkling her nose. "I think I gained weight just breathing the air there."

"Is it the Moulin then?" said Tino.

"Alright, I guess," said Nini.

"The Moulin?" Christian asked.

"The Moulin Au Café," Nini said tiredly.

"Best café around," Tino added. "They've got great live music."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you had to work there every night," said Nini with a sigh.

"The Moulin Au Café," said Christian, trying the word out on his tongue.

"It means the coffee grinder," said Nini. "Come on I'm starving."

They then headed for down the street trying to stay together as a group, Christian in the back, hoping he wouldn't get lost. The café was larger than most places he'd seen in the city and gave off funky vibes with its brightly colored walls and mismatched chairs. The air was heavy with the smell of freshly ground coffee and something like smoke.

"I'll get us some drinks," said Nini with an exasperated grin and an eye roll. "Okay?"

"If you don't mind-" said Henry quickly.

"Why would I mind extra unpaid work?" she said sarcastically. "I love it."

She grabbed an apron and disappeared behind the counter. Henry led the way to the back of the room. Christian took a squishy arm chair and the others plopped down beside him. Nini returned shortly with a tray of coffees and sandwiches. As the hour passed Christian began to warm up to them.

He certainly liked them, they were more open-minded and intelligent than anyone back home. When the topic drifted to thesis's Henry suggested they work together. Since they had different majors, they'd have to do something to combine them. Nini suggested making a film but to Christian's surprise it was Audrey who had the best idea, a musical. Satie and Tino looked skeptical but the idea of live music changed that. Christian was so immersed it the conversation he got a jolt when he realized he was going to be late for his next class. Shouting a hasty good bye, he grabbed his coffee and his bag and walked briskly out of the Moulin Au Café not looking where he was going. He swung the door open and promptly knocked a woman over.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry miss are you alright." He bent to help her up and familiar blue eyes met his grey ones. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh my, it's you!" She said smiling, to Christian's relief. "I work here." Then she frowned. "Fuck," she was covered in cold coffee.

"Oh shoot! I'm so sorry- come on I'll get you a clean shirt."

"What?"

"I spilt coffee on you and I'm offering to get you a clean shirt"

"I don't want to be any trouble-"

"I spilt coffee all over you!"

"You've got a point!" She laughed showing all her teeth. Then her face wrinkled as she stood up fully. "I think I sprained my ankle." she gingerly tested it and winced. "Yeah I did."

"Can you walk?"

"Yes," she took a few stumbling steps and Christian caught her. "No."

"Here" he gave her his arm and helped her limp to the subway. "I feel like such an ass," he admitted. She grinned.

"I know what you mean." She laughed. "I'm the one covered in coffee and limping through the center of New York City."

"And it's my fault." They both laughed and stumbled onto the train. "Christian James," he said, holding out his hand.

"Satine Grey," she said. " and I thought you lived near here." Christian chose not to answer that, for he himself was wondering now why he'd said that. It wasn't far on the subway but it wasn't near enough that he'd be on time for class either.

"Where's your sister?"

"School, I hope." Christian didn't press it.

"Look err… now might not be the best time… I mean… what other time is there though?" Christian stuttered, "do you want to go somewhere with a complete stranger… I mean… me…sometime?" Satine flushed.

"I…well… alright" she looked at her knees.

"Er… tomorrow?"

"Ok then, where?"

"Nine at the Moulin?"

"Alright." She grinned and leaned her coffee stained body against his, not caring that she was a spectacle.