Right, so when I checked my reviews I was too much in a bad mood to respond so I am just gonna do that now... deal with it. For one, I had the question is Celeste has a hard time making friends, how did she become friends with Gabriella and Marquel so fast. Well they have been friends since she moved to Paris. Let's count her friends now; Marqul, Gabriella, Gringore, Jehan...only 4. Not too many. Second, if she said her father was the only man she respected, whats the deal with her an Gringore. He is her friend... but he is a bit of a pansy. She loves him, but she was taught to respect her father's authority. End. Anyway, to my Gringore fan, sorry he is not in this part, but I promise to put him in the next! Now I have taken up enough of your reading time. On with the show!

Somewhere along the short walk, Celeste lost herself in her train of thought. It seemed like she just looked up and somehow her legs had taken her to the empty town square. It was only then when she came back to her senses she realized how horrible the weather was. The streets were damp and the air humid making an uncomfortable chill. There was a light fog over the ground. However the sky was a clear with stars and clouds illuminated by the half moon.

It was strange. She thought she had come there to mull over all her troubling thoughts. But for some reason, she just felt nothing. No concern, so sadness or fret. With the quiet of the night her thoughts were quiet too. But she still couldn't bring herself to go home. She continued over to her bridge and just crossed her arms on the wall and rested her head staring blankly at the shinning water.

This sudden feeling of apetheticness wasn't better than her overwhelming thoughts. She tried to bring herself to try and think of a solution, but it was as if something was distracting her and she went back to the dark void she pictured in her mind. Perhaps a side effect to her depression. It was like she couldn't feel anything. No emotion, to stress, no despair, not even the cold damp air on her skin. It seemed she had lost all interest in her concerns, and just for one night she wanted to give in to the nothingness.

"What a pleasant surprise," It was then she finally felt something, startlement. She snapped up straight. "Although, I can't say it is a surprise." It was The King of Beggars himself yet again. He was wearing his feathered purple hat again and purple and blue stockings and shirt, but to shield himself from the cold he had a brown mouth eaten cloak that somehow looked good with his bright outfit.

Celeste was only wide eyed for a moment, but then she lost interest. The last person she wanted to see was him. Why does he always appear at the worst times? She only sighed, "Oh, its you. That beggar..."

"You still don't use my name. Well, yours is much more beautiful than mine. So I hope you don't mind, but I will be using yours, Madam Celeste."

She didn't even have the stamina to glare at him. She resumed her blase stare in the water. "I'm not in the mood gypsy. So...just leave me be." Clopin actually gave a perplexed reaction.

"You're not as snappy as usually." He walked up next to her looking in the same direction as her. "And yet, I sense a coldness much more bitter then usually."

Celeste was quiet. She didn't even look up. This gypsy really wasn't helping. Now she only felt she was as easy to read as a book. If possible, she was feeling more depressed now then ever. For a few moments, the two of them just continued looking into the water, Celeste hiding half her face in her sleeves and Clopin just standing next to her with a sly smile.

"Why," Celeste was able to mumble, "Why must you fallow me everywhere?"

He chuckled. "Fallow? Not at all. I come out here almost every night. And it was pretty unbelievable we met in the square. I'd like to think it's fate." His answer did not help.

"Then why, when so many times I tell you to go away, you just keep talking to me?"

"Because," he smirked, "I hate you just as much as you hate me."

At that sound of his answer, Celeste made a reaction. She straighten herself to look at him. He said he hated her, only he said it pleasantly, and with a smile on his face. Only shortly before her mind had been idle, but now it was racing trying to find answers.

Without even looking at her he knew what her question was. "I despise you higher class people, always looking down on people like me. There isn't a nobleman or commoner that I am fond of. I stick to my own kind."

"But then- why are you always to polite and speak to me like we're equals?" Celeste's voice had more emotion in it than his cheery answer. She did not enjoy this gypsy messing with her.

"Well," he turned to her, still with that smirk, "I wanted to prove you wrong and show you we are equals, whether you know it or not."

The confusion his response left her in resulted in her mind going blank once more. It was as if nothing made sense anymore, and she was suddenly reminded of everything going wrong, and she was reminded of the hate she felt for this gypsy.

"Why that is preposterous!" She became stern. "In no way am I anything like you! You are rude, a stalker and a scheming beggar. How dare you compare us!"

The man didn't even flinch or show any sign of harm. Instead, he only smiled wider and chuckled again. "That's the Celeste I know."

Her anger was replaced with shock and that familiar confusion only he could cause. All became quiet as he only beamed at her while she stared emotionless and blank with only a slight blush on her face to give a hint of what she might be feeling.

The stillness and silence was joined by a chilling breeze. Celeste crossed her arms and shivered. She was, after all, only in her work garments which was a thin earth green dress and had forgotten her cloak.

The gypsy king untied the front of his cloak and slide it off. Celeste felt something wrap around her shoulders. Looking up she saw the handsome gypsy tying it around her neck just smiling. She had not seen him this close, but she admired his every feature from him full narrow face and natural smile. His dark eyes twinkled as he concentrated on tying the string around her neck. His dark hair seemed the glisten just as much, and he smelled of fresh incense. All she could do was stare with her mouth open as if to say something, and that blush still had not faded.

He stepped away still smiling and just looked at her. She look down at the old cloak. Despite its appearance, it was rather warm. She glanced back up at the gypsy. He simply tipped his hat and bowed. "Bonne nuit, mademoiselle Celeste." He turned and began to walk away towards the cathedral.

She reached out an arm, the other hand clutching the cloak, "Monsieur Clopin!" he stopped. "Merci..." was all she could say. He only turned his head, "Hm," he smirked, "you used my name..." She took a step back not realizing what she had done. What spell had this gypsy caste on her to make her act this way.

He turned his head back around and continued walking around the church and out of sight. Seeing him leave, Celeste noticed she felt- normal again and not so empty. As if there was room for emotion again. Was it because of that gypsy?