AN: Finally finished this chapter. It might seem rushed at parts, but I did my best. Those of you who love cute, romantic stories will most likely enjoy this chapter. I also hope I made things as historically accurate as possible. Once again, I did my best.

New York: 1959

"Nana, where's my beret?"

Upon hearing the inquiry, the fifty-two year old Nana Chang looked over at a young woman with extremely frizzy mousy-brown hair and violet eyes, dressed in a black beatnik dress.

"Natalie, don't you think that old beret's past its retirement?" Nana smiled at her young friend.

"But that beret is my lucky beret!" Natalie insisted with a laugh as she continued to look around the room. "I always wear it at poetry readings. Oh, wait! Here it is!" Natalie held up an old black beret, which she placed on her head. "There! Now I'm ready! How do I look?"

"Honestly? Like a French spy!"

"Nana, come on!" Natalie laughed in good-nature, before heading for the door, giving the older woman a quick kiss on the forehead. "You gonna' come and see me tonight at Gaslight, right?"

"I never miss it, Natalie. Ever."

A young man with medium brown hair and hazel eyes paused to examine his reflection in a shop window on Bleeker Street. He was dressed in a faded suede vest, and corduroy pants, at, at first glance, fit right in with the other people walking by.

"Looking good, Zeke!" he complemented himself. "Not even your old man would know it's you, unless he really looked, and there's no chance of that happening. He'd never look at anyone he'd deem as 'low-class'. Tonight, you're no lucky little brat born into money. You're just a normal boy, out for a normal wind-down in the city that never sleeps."

Zeke grinned to himself as he entered a small establishment called Gaslight Café, pleased at his luck. From what he had heard, finding an empty seat in this place was rare. But there was one left, which provided a good view of the stage.

"Herbal tea, please," Zeke asked the counter clerk, claiming the empty chair as he spoke.

As Zeke sat back and enjoyed his drink, a young woman in a black beatnik dress and matching beret, with her frizzy hair tied back into a ponytail, moved up onto stage, where a spotlight shone down on her. The girl took a seat on a stool that had been placed on the stage, and began to recite a poem

If someone were to ask you,

"What is the Strongest Thing on Earth today",

What would be your response?

Would you answer Steel,

Which makes buildings grow tall,

Or creates machines of yellow-gold,

To create or destroy?

Would you respond Stone,

That can cleave a skull,

Break a bone,

Or build mighty walls?

Or would you claim that Concrete,

Which covers the ground

To make way for transports

Earns the title of 'Strongest'?

All good answers,

Yes, It's true.

But what brings Steel towers to the ground,

When they grow old and brittle?

What can pound against Stone endlessly,

Until it comes reformed as Sand?

What breaks apart the Concrete,

And creates a hole for the Sun?

Wind,

Water,

And Earth.

Forces of Nature

That brings Man's work to fall to Dust.

Truly, it is Nature's might,

That earns the title of Strongest.

As the young poet moved off the stage, accompanied by the snapping of fingers, Zeke realized that he had been so entranced by the girl's performance; he had been holding his cup halfway to his lips for the entire time. Quickly he placed the drink back on the table and continued to watch as Natalie went around the room, collecting money in a wicker basket. Never taking his eyes off her, he dug into his wallet.

Natalie always made a mental note to thank anyone who was willing to cast money her way after her poetry recitals with a large smile, even if it was only a cent. Every little bit helped, after all. And tonight was just like all the others. However, as she passed by the tables, a hand dropped a bill into the basket. When Natalie glanced down at it, she froze in shock at the sight of a $50 bill.

That had to be a mistake. Someone must have taken out the wrong bill. She turned around to see a boy about her age, watching her intently with a wide smile on his face. Hesitantly, she moved back over to him.

"Excuse me, sir. But I think you made a mistake."

"Have I?"

"Yes. This is a $50 bill you gave me."

"Oh. Yes, I believe it is. Is there a problem with that?"

"Okay, what do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

"No one gives anyone this much without wanting something in return, mister."

The boy continued to look at her in silence for a moment. Feeling a little self-conscious, Natalie started to walk off. But as she started to leave, the young man spoke again."

"Okay. You caught me. There is something I'd like."

"And what is that?"

"Your name, for starters." Natalie gave him an incredulous look.

"Hold that thought, Mr. Suave," she finally replied, before moving on to finish collecting tips.

Natalie rejoined the young man a few minutes later, seeing that he now had two cups of herbal tea in front of him.

"I hope I ordered a flavor you like," he smiled, gesturing to the second cup.

"Okay then, first you willingly over tip, now you buy me tea," Natalie mused. "What's your catch? You can't possibly be just a nice guy. You gotta have an angle."

"No angle. I just want your name, for starters, remember." Natalie eyed him appraisingly.

"It's Natalie."

"Good. Now I can say this: You're very talented, Natalie. You have one beautiful mind."

"So I take it you enjoy poetry?"

"I liked yours."

"Now that does it," Natalie fought back a laugh as she felt a warm blush rise up to her cheeks. "You could charm the whiskers of a cat; you buy tea for strange girls you just met at poetry recitals…."

"What makes you think every guy has an angle?"

"Most men do."

"I'm not most men."

The discourse continued on for a good fifteen minutes. Natalie continued to test the young man with every trick and trap she knew. Anything to make him slip-up. But every time, his answer pleasantly surprised her.

"Forgive the interruption, Natalie," the counter clerk suddenly stepped in. "But I really need to ask you and your friend to leave- it's well past closing time."

"Oh!" Natalie looked at the wall clock in surprise. "I'm so sorry!"

"Not at all," the counter clerk smiled, assuring her that he wasn't mad.

Natalie and the young man left Gaslight Café and stopped just outside the door, where the boy turned to Natalie.

"So, are you going to be here again tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Good. Maybe I'll see you." With that, he started to walk off.

"Hold up!" Natalie called, causing him to stop and look back immediately. "You never gave me your name, remember?" The boy smiled broadly.

"It's Zeke," he replied, before continuing on his way.

In a grandly furbished apartment suite, a young man was pacing, looking very unnerved about something. He immediately stopped when the door opened, and Zeke walked in.

"Oh, good grief!" the boy groaned, taking in the fact that Zeke was still dressed in his 'street garb'.

"Hello, Melrone," Zeke greeted his brother.

"Why? Why the disguise again, Zeke?" Melrone scolded in exasperation.

"I had a wonderful time tonight, Melrone," Zeke announced, paying no heed to the question. "No one treated me like I was some rich boy."

"Will you listen to me?" Melrone begged. "Zeke, if Father knew what you were always up to, he'd hit the ceiling."

"And I know you'll never tell him, so we don't have a problem, do we?" Zeke laughed.

"Will you please be serious? What can you possibly find out in the city streets that can top what we were born to? Help me out here. We're heirs to a rich father; we can easily go on holidays to places other people spend their whole lives trying to afford to visit, what am I not getting?"

"Melrone, I have no life of my own here. I need the freedom to do things I want. Why do I have to give up those freedoms because I was born with a prestigious family name?"

"Zeke, please. This disappearing thing has got to stop. It's too dangerous."

"Oh, calm down, Melrone. I was perfectly safe."

"I'm not worried about you, I'm worried about me! You can't keep running off to mix with the lower classes. Father notices every time you do, and I'm running out of excuses." Zeke shook his head, and went off to his bedroom, leaving Melrone seriously distressed. "If he wants to kill me, why doesn't he just push me out the window and get it over with?"

The next morning Zeke walked the streets of New York. This time, he was with Melrone. The brothers were accompanying their father, Max, who was meeting some important financial backers. Zeke barely paid attention to Max's ramblings on how his sons needed to see how business was done, since they would one day be dealing with the same sort of affairs. There were more important things to think about, like how he was going to find a way to return to Gaslight that night, and hear more of Natalie's poetry.

At that moment, his father's angry shouts brought him out of his daydreaming. A pair of small children, clearly belonging to a lower east side family, had been playing with a ball, but one child had miss-thrown and it had nearly hit Max's leg, prompting the grown man to start shouting, complaining about how disgraceful it was that street waifs weren't confined to a place where they couldn't be seen. Zeke was just about to try to calm his father down, but someone else beat him to the punch.

"Hey, stuffed shirt!" a young woman exclaimed, marching up to Max. "How about taking your millions and use them to purchase some common decency, instead of rare champagnes and silkworms?"

"Out of my sight, woman! Learn your place!" Max boomed.

"I know my place, and it's right here- defending those who can't protect themselves! Especially from self-absorbed, dried-up snobs like you."

"You dare speak to me like that again, woman, and I'll have the police down here…!"

"Dad, calm down!" Zeke interrupted, stepping forward to break up the fight. "You'll get a heart attack if you…."

Zeke immediately stopped talking when he recognized the girl who had been fighting with his father. It was Natalie. And from the look on her face, she clearly recognized him, too. Natalie stared straight at him in shock, but the surprise quickly shifted into fury and accusation. Before Zeke could say anything to correct her obvious assumptions that he had deliberately deceived her into thinking he was a nice guy last night, Natalie had stormed off.

As night fell, Zeke sat in his room alone, trying in vain to erase the betrayed look Natalie had given him when the truth had came out. He had to make her realize that he wasn't like his father; that he wasn't leading her astray the other night as Gaslight.

After making sure no one was outside his room, Zeke quickly changed back into his 'street garb', which he kept hidden in the back of his closet.

Inside the Gaslight Café, Natalie took a seat at a lone table, taking a long sip of herbal tea. She had just completed another set of poetry recitals and was currently taking a moment to rest.

"I enjoyed your poetry tonight," a familiar voice spoke into her ear.

"Ah. I remember you," Natalie commented, glancing coldly over at Zeke, who had joined her at the table without her noticing. "So, Rich Boy, what compelled you to return to the rough, riff-raff side of this concrete jungle?" Zeke quickly cleared his throat.

"Oh, the searing pain, when those living in poverty assume that all those born to money look down upon the so-called dregs of society, for it is in doing so, they become guilty of the very crime they scorn so deeply. The crime of stereotyping" When Zeke looked back at Natalie, in order to see her reaction, he was pleased to see her entire face lit up with astonishment.

"Oooh, I must say, boy. You are simply overflowing with the right stuff," she grinned broadly. "Is smooth talking one of the classes at those high-end finishing schools? Because you are obviously top of the class."

"Honestly? I zoned out throughout all of finishing school. Couldn't wait to get out. Spending all my free time in a cramped, stuffy dorm room? I felt like veal. In fact, sometimes I wonder about the possibility that there was a mix-up at the hospital."

"How so?"

"Natalie, have you ever had one of those moments where you step back, and look at everything around you, and think 'this is not my life?' I feel like that every day."

When Zeke noticed Natalie looked confused by this statement, he started to explain.

"I'm supposed to be this spoiled little rich kid. I've been expected to behave and act a certain way. 'Walk with your head held proud, Zeke.' 'You're the heir to one the most respected names in America, Zeke.' 'Don't spare a glance to those on the street, Zeke' 'Everyone else is beneath you; don't disgrace yourself by consorting with them, Zeke.' It's all brainwashing! I should have been destroyed by all that after being exposed to it from birth. My brother certainly was. But not me. I still find myself on the inside, looking out, wanting and wishing to be a part of the real world."

"So that's why you made yourself up to look like…," Natalie surmised.

"One of you," Zeke finished. "Like a normal person. I know this probably sounds crazy, but I'd give anything to have what you have and escape my glided cage. To think what I want, say what I want, go anywhere I please, without worrying about meeting with… Mr. and Mrs. Pippinpopple of the Pippinpopple Popcorn Fortune for afternoon luncheon, followed by an excruciatingly long stroll through their spacious grounds, admiring every stinking monotonous rosebush we come to." Natalie instantly started laughing, which caused Zeke to turn beet red. "Oh, great. Now you're laughing at me."

"No," Natalie insisted. "I'm laughing with you. You have to be the most profound person I've ever met."

"So, do I take that as a complement?" Zeke asked hopefully.

"Perhaps," Natalie smiled, lightly running her index finger across the side of Zeke's hand, an act which made his heart rate skyrocket. Zeke returned Natalie's smile, and, emboldened by her small gesture, reached out to cover her hand with his.

"Meet me tomorrow, at the Bronx Zoo?" Zeke invited. "Around ten?"

"What about your luncheon with the Pippinpopples?" Natalie teased.

"Well… guess I'll just have to rain check."

The next day brought clear blue skies, ideal weather for a zoo trip. Zeke and Natalie met one another as scheduled, laughing over the phony story Zeke had told his father about meeting some boys from finishing school. Zeke was personally surprised by the fact Natalie wasn't bothered by seeing the creatures in the reptile house, or some of the other non-cute creatures that were on exhibit.

After what seemed like hours, they made a final visit to Butterfly Garden. It was shortly after arriving in this section that Zeke noticed Natalie was beginning to look downcast.

"Hey, is something wrong?"

"No. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Well, butterflies. Many people only see a beautiful insect. But they sometimes overlook one of the simple facts of nature. Butterflies pay the price for their beauty, for they only live for a short time, just long enough to leave behind their eggs. It's the same for cherry blossoms, the first blossoms to appear in the spring, but also the first to fall."

"Now I'm depressed," Zeke sighed.

"Don't be. You just have to remember where one thing falls, another grows. When butterflies die, they leave eggs that will eventually become caterpillars. And when the cherry blossoms fall, then soon there will be cherries."

"And you said I'm profound."

"Sorry. It's the curse of being a poet. Your mind's always in overdrive." The two began to laugh as they continued on. As they walked however, Natalie's foot brushed against an uneven stone and she started to stumble. She scrunched her eyes closed, waiting for the fall, but it never came. Instead, she felt a pair of hands clamp onto her arms. When Natalie opened her eyes, she saw that Zeke had moved into her path to catch her before she fell, and was now looking down at her.

"Thanks, Zeke," Natalie smiled softly.

"Of course," Zeke grinned in return.

It was in that moment that a mutual understanding passed between them. The kiss only lasted for a second before they pulled away, but their lips remained a centimeter apart, as if deciding what to do next. A moment later, they reached a decision. This time, the kiss shared by Zeke and Natalie was long, passionate and perfect.

Present Day

"They fell in love, didn't they?" Mimi guessed with a smile.

"Yes. They did," Nana confirmed. "Zeke made it a religious habit to sneak out almost every night to see Natalie's poetry recitals, after which they would spend hours on end, talking over tea, or walking in the park."

As Nana spoke, she moved to an old picture frame that was hanging on a nearby wall and handed it over to the Bohemians to look at.

"That was taken six months after their one year anniversary. A week later, Zeke decided to make it official with Natalie. He proposed, and she accepted."

"Emily," Maureen gaped at the picture of Zeke and Natalie. "These are your parents, aren't they? Oh, you look just like your mother."

"Yeah," Emily smiled slightly. "But I inherited my dad's hazel eyes."

"Zeke married Natalie in the early spring," Nana continued. "Only a few people attended. Zeke never told his family, of course. He wisely knew that his father would never tolerate the fact that his son and heir was marrying a woman who was 'beneath him.' And, for a time, Zeke's marriage to Natalie was successfully kept a secret from Max. However," Nana let out a heavy sigh. "Like many things, the secret couldn't remain forever."

AN: FYI, that poem Natalie recites is actually an original work by me! It was written as an assignment for my Intro to Literature class, during the poetry unit. Hope you enjoyed it. Also, don't you agree Zeke's dad, Max, is a royal jerk? If not, just wait until next chapter. Until next time...