Epilogue

Notre Dame was on fire.

No one was sure where the vicious flames had originated, but they were climbing rapidly up the spiracle, devouring the wooden ceiling, hungry to consume the entire cathedral.

The beautiful rose window glass had bursted because of the heat, and the metal was beginning to melt down.

The firefighters were rushing in from all over the city, the sound of their firetrucks sirens filled the ears of anyone walking through the streets.

That is, of course, for anyone who wasn't wearing headphones. Which was the case of the doctor, walking in the opposite direction, looking at the store names in search for the one his son had told him to go to.

He had left his consult ten minutes earlier to run this errand, so by the time his receptionist heard the news of the fire, the doctor was already gone.

There it was, the sports shop his son had told him about. He took of one of his earphones.

- Good evening. - he greeted the store assistant.

- Good evening, how can I help you? - the young man replied, leaving his phone on the counter at the same moment the first text about the fire arrived.

The doctor raised the plastic bag he was holding, and he took out a couple of old sneakers.

- My son bought this here a few months ago.

- A few months? - the assistant repeated with disbelief. The sneakers were visibly worn, and the soles were so thin they looked like they were about to tear.

- Yes, he does this… parkour thing, you know.

- Oh, yes! I think I remember him. - the assistant face lighted up with delight. - He was here earlier this year, wasn't he?

- I think so… these were a late Christmas present. - the doctor confirmed absently. - Anyway, as you can see he's pretty much used them up, so he was wondering if you still had the same model.

- Actually we do. - the assistant nodded. - Just tell me the size and I'll fetch them for you.

Five minutes later, the doctor left the store with two pairs of sneakers in his bag, and he placed the earphone back on to resume his podcast. He was listening to a very interesting article about the study of consciousness beyond clinical death, what was called near-death experiences. However, as he walked down the street, he noticed a weird music playing, and he took out his phone to pause the podcast and check if it was on his recording or outside.

The music was coming from a young street musician, who was playing some kind of ocarina. Beside him there was a young woman dancing.

He usually paid no attention to street performances like that. He preferred going to the theater, or assisting classical concerts. However, there was something about them that caught his attention, and he slowed down his steps.

The young woman was dancing in a beautiful way, her curly black hair spinning around her head with every movement. At one point, she looked up and their eyes met, and he felt as if an iron fist had just punched all the air out of his lungs. He knew her. But he didn't. Maybe he had seen her on the street before? He pondered, though the intensity of the electric shock he had felt was still lingering on his limbs.

In that moment, a man came out of nowhere and grabbed the camera that the two performers had set on a tripod in front of them, probably to record their act. The camera was screwed to the tripod, and there was also a cloth bag hanging from it, but the man grabbed it all and ran as fast as he could.

- Hey! - the ocarina player yelled, and he ran right after the thief, calling him insults and asking the people to stop him, though no one intervened. The first man turned the corner and the musician disappeared after him.

Everyone was looking at them, shocked by the unexpected crime. It took the dancer a second to realized what had just happened.

- Damn it! - she cursed, hesitating.

The doctor wondered why she wasn't also chasing after the thief, and then he realized she was barefoot.

- Hello. - he greeted her, coming closer.

- Hey… - she responded, without looking at him. She was stretching her neck to raise her eyes, still searching for her companion among the multitude.

- Why are you barefoot? - he asked, trying to sound polite.

- Huh? - she said absently, looking down at her feet. - Oh. I dance better like this. My shoes were on that bag… - she lamented, though the shoes were the least of her worries right now. - Why would anyone do this? - she asked, frustrated.

- Well… that was an expensive camera… Maybe you shouldn't leave it alone like that. - the doctor commented.

She finally looked at him, though her glance was annoyed and she was frowning. However, when their eyes met again, her expression softened.

- I guess you're right... It just bothers me that it is us who get scolded and not him for stealing it! - she explained, shaking her head.

- Are you going to call the police? - the doctor asked.

- Hmm I'd rather not, honestly. I'm not a big fan of cops. - she confessed with a nervous smile.

The man frowned. He couldn't help thinking that whoever disliked cops was probably not very reliable themselves, though to be fair, it was them who had just been robbed and not the other way around.

- Damn it, are you a cop? - she asked, misinterpreting his expression.

- Oh, no, no. - he reassured her. - I'm a doctor.

- Oh, that's a relief. Doctors, I like. - she responded, with a crooked smile and a wink.

- Then maybe you'll take a doctor's advice … - he said tentatively. - You shouldn't walk barefoot on these streets… You could cut yourself again.

- Again? - she repeated, without understanding.

- Isn't that a scar from a cut? - he inquired, pointing towards a fine line of lighter tissue under her ankle.

- Actually, it's not! - she clarified. - It's a funny story, everyone thinks it's a scar… If you look close you can even discern the stitches marks… But it's a birthmark. I've had if since I was born.

- Wow… - he murmured, hesitant- May I…?

- Suit yourself. - she shrugged, inviting him to kneel beside her.

- That's quite remarkable. - he said, getting back on his feet after a careful examination. - It truly looks like a scar.

- I know. - she smiled, proud of her unique trait.

- But anyway, that doesn't change that you could get an actual cut. - he insisted. - I happen to be carrying an extra pair of sneakers.- he remembered them, showing her his bag.

- What were the odds? - she asked, surprised and also a bit suspicious.

- They are my son's- he proceeded to explain quickly - He wanted me to get him a new pair of the same ones, so he made me bring them with me. I don't think he would mind you using them… he was probably going to throw them away anyway.

- What did he do with them? - she asked with a laugh when she saw the terrible state they were in.

- Parkour. - the doctor repeated, slightly embarrassed.

- What now? - she asked, intrigued.

- It's like… he jumps and climbs buildings and stuff. - the doctor explained poorly.

- I see… Isn't that dangerous? - she asked, as she put on the sneakers and tied their laces.

- He's actually really good at it. - he answered honestly.

- Well… thank him on my behalf, please! - she said getting up with a big smile. - I should try calling my brother… I don't know why he isn't coming back. - she wondered, getting worried.

She took her phone out of her pocket, but she cursed when she saw the black screen.

- Damn it, it's dead! Today's really not my day. - she sighed, defeated.

- Here, use mine. - the doctor offered, taking off the earphone cable.

- Are you sure you don't mind? - she asked, embarrassed.

- Not at all. - he encouraged her, handing her the phone.

- Thank you. - she smiled, and dialed her brother's number. She waited a few seconds, and then he picked up. - Hey! Where are you? … Did you get him?…. I see… No, I'm still here…. Okay, I'll be right there.

She hung up the phone and handed it back to the doctor.

- He couldn't get the thief. -she informed him. - He's talking to the cops now. He told me to wait for him at the square, in front of the book store.

- That's where I'm headed. - the doctor said, putting the phone in his pocket.

- Was that your son? - she asked, pointing to the screen before he put it away.

- Oh… yes, that's him.

- I guess the red hair comes from his mother then. - she joked, pointing at the doctors black hair.

- I wouldn't know. - the doctor confessed. - He was abandoned at the hospital I used to work with, right after he was born.

- Oh God, that's awful! - she said, covering her mouth with her hands and scolding herself for bringing it up. - I'm sorry, I didn't know…

- It's alright. It's just been the two of us ever since. That was the best thing that ever happened to me. - he assured her with a calm smile, that she reciprocated.

So they walked together, and this time they did notice the sound of the sirens, though the tall buildings prevented them from seeing the dense column of smoke coming out of the cathedral. However, they did see that many people seemed to be heading the same direction as them, and they all looked altered.

- All this fuzz about a street burglar? - she joked, though as the seconds went by they both realized something bigger was going on.

Just when they were about to stop someone to question them, they turned the corner and the image of the cathedral came in sight.

- Jesus Christ. - the doctor said, while she gasped loudly beside him.

- What happened? - she asked, horrified.

They arrived just in time to see the main, high spiracle collapse, in a scene that would be forever engraved in their memory from that day on.

Everyone was gathering by the riverside, taking pictures and videos, some of them crying, and others staring in absolute, shocked silence.

- Hey! - a voice called, and the dancer's brother came out of nowhere.

- Did you see that? - his sister asked, pointing towards the cathedral.

- Holy shit! - the musician yelled, taking his hands to his head.

Soon, he also took out his phone and began taking pictures of the flaming building, whose whole net of wood beams was starting to crumble down as well.

The doctor couldn't believe his eyes. He knew the building was just that, a building, made of stone… but somehow he felt as if he was witnessing a loved being suffering. He felt a heavy weight in his chest. The dancer noticed his expression, and she felt the need to comfort him somehow.

- I'm sure they will stop it soon. She will be okay.

The doctor looked at her, surprised by her use of the personal pronoun, as if she had read his mind.

- How are you so sure? - he asked, skeptical.

- Because… even fire cannot destroy the purest things in this world. - she stated firmly.

- Where is that from? - he asked, recognizing the words.

- What?

- Your quote.

- Oh, is it a quote? I didn't know! It just came to my mind now. - she shrugged.

He struggled to remember where he had heard it before, but he was unable to recall. Though the words had, for some reason, sent a shiver down his spine.

- Well… I should get going. - he said finally, letting it go. - I hope you get back your stuff.

- Yes! Thank you… ehm…

- Claude.

- Thank you, Claude. I'm Esme. - she said, offering her hand.

- Good luck, Esme. - he shook her hand, and when he touched her skin, he felt it again.

That iron fist in his chest, that electric current across his body. That feeling of recognizing her, of intense familiarity.

- Are you dancing here often? - he asked, out of the blue.

- No, actually… we just arrived at the city a couple days ago. We couldn't have come in a worse time. - she said, pointing towards the fire. - I hope we didn't bring bad luck with us! - she chuckled nervously.

- I see...well… goodbye then. - he said absently, wondering how on earth was he so sure that he had met her before.

When he arrived at his home in the suburbs almost an hour later, his son was already waiting for him at the entrance.

- Hey! Did you hear it? - he asked, as soon as his father stepped out of the car.

- I saw it. - Claude revealed. - I was walking back to the consult from your store… Here you are by the way. They still had the model you wanted.

- Oh, thank you! - his son exclaimed excited, as they both climbed up the steps and walked inside. - I was cooking dinner, watching the news but… - he threw his new sneakers a longing look.

- Go practice. - Claude told him. - I will finish making dinner.

- Awesome! - the happy lad said, and he disappeared into the backyard.

Claude entered the kitchen, where some pasta was boiling in the pot. The TV was on, displaying the terrifying images of the cathedral burning in the night. Apparently, the firefighters still hadn't been able to control the flames, and they were getting dangerously close to the towers. He didn't know why it was affecting him so much. Granted, it was a beautiful building, and a great artistic loss… But he felt as if also part of him was burning with it.

A short vibration on his pocket distracted him from his thoughts, as he decided to turn off the TV.

He had a new text from an unknown number.

"Hey, it's Esme!"

His heart skipped a beat. It took him a moment to realize that she must have saved his number from her brother's phone, from the call she had made earlier. Another text followed.

"I just wanted to thank you again for letting me borrow your son's shoes! It was definitely fate that you happened to be there carrying them! I don't suppose he'll want them back… but if he does, just tell me when and where and I'll drop them by! ;)"

He read the text again, aware of the inexplicable rush of adrenaline he was feeling at the possibility of seeing her again. Was he misinterpreting it? She was probably just trying to be polite. But again, she had already thanked him in person… and he had explained that his son would probably throw the sneakers to the garbage. What if it was an excuse to see him again?

No, no. Why would she want that?

His fingers moved faster than his brain.

"I will be having coffee tomorrow morning at Café Flamcourt, if it's on your way." he typed, though he didn't hit the Send button.

It was too direct. Too obvious. It sounded like an invitation. He deleted it and typed again.

"You're welcome. I usually take a mid-morning break with my colleagues at Café Flamcourt, if it's on your way."

Yes, that was better. Mentioning his colleagues meant he wasn't looking for a private encounter, though leaving the possibility open.

He placed the phone on the counter as he rinsed the pasta, and heated the sauce. He felt stupid for his childlish nervousness, as if he was a hormonal teen waiting for a text from his crush. He was an adult man, for God's sake! However, his heart betrayed him when the phone vibrated again, and his hands flew to grab it instantly.

"Perfect! That will give me a chance to buy you a thank you coffee :)"

An involuntary smile brightened up his face, and suddenly, his appetite was gone. Instead, he was eager to get to bed, so it would be tomorrow already.

He couldn't put his finger on why, but he was feeling a deep joy… As if, instead of a few minutes, he had been waiting for that text for a very, very, long time.

A/N: Soooo... this is it!

Thank you so much if you read up to this point! This story ended up being so much longer than I had anticipated hahaha I just got carried away, I didn't know myself how it would end, but I hope you enjoyed it!

Thank you so much for all your reviews, they were really encouraging to keep going, and even though I'm finished now, they will still be greatly appreciated, whenever you read this story, so keep them coming! ;)

To say goodbye I wanted to share a realization I made just today. I wanted to check how much time it had taken me to write the story ( shotout to whoever commented "speedy update!" in the reviews lol) so I looked at today's date and I realized that the Notre Dame's fire was EXACTLY a year ago, the 15th of April! :O Not only that, but then I saw that I had written and posted the first chapter the 6th of January, and I had a memory/intuition... and sure enough, according to the movie song, the Tupsy Turvy day was the 6th of january! What were the odds!? hahaha
Maybe it's silly but I thought it was an amazing coincidence! :P

Anyway, thank you all and I'll see you around! Be safe! 3