After a long trip from the airport, the taxi finally pulled up to her house. Gwen wearily got out and the driver helped with her many bags. In return she gave him a generous tip, leaving her with a very light wallet. She unlocked the door and walked in to the house, kicking and dragging her bags in to the front hall. There was no one there to greet her which she preferred, as her mother always made a big fuss. Instead there were two messages on the fridge:
Welcome home, sweetie. Don't forget to get the car from TT's! Love Mom.
Did you get me anything cool from New York? :D
She smiled reading the messages, this was her family alright.
Gwen had spent over six years in New York, after winning a full scholarship to an arts college. She loved the city. It was exciting, diverse and full of extremes. Her courses were challenging and she had grown as an artist. But she had always felt like a visitor who didn't really belong there.
The friends she had made were the type who could have long, deep discussions about art but not much else. Part of that was her fault Gwen knew, she tended to keep people at a distance. It was much easier to pour herself in her art then deal with other people.
Nevertheless, if it hadn't been for the fact that she was broke, she'd still be there now. Her tiny closet of an apartment had slowly but surely eaten up all her savings. She had a job waitressing at a diner but with even with all the extra shifts, it was a losing battle. For the last few weeks, she'd been eating nothing but instant soup. Short of a miracle, it had come down to moving back home or being a homeless and starving artist.
Looking at over at her bags, she groaned wondering how had her tiny apartment been able to contain so much stuff. Deciding she didn't have the energy to deal with it now, Gwen trudged wearily upstairs to her room. She gave one quick glance around the room, making sure everything was still the same. Then with a yawn, she flopped down on her bed and within moments, she had fallen fast asleep.
Still feeling groggy when she woke up a few hours later and Gwen didn't bother with makeup or even to take a quick glance at herself in the mirror. Grabbing the first thing out of closet, she changed quickly out of her rumpled clothes in to a grey marled sweater dress.
Gwen decided to walk to TT Auto despite the weather growing grey and cloudy. She couldn't afford another taxi fare, not without taking money out of her mom's emergency cookie tin. As she locked the door, she make sure to triple check it. A habit she had picked up while in the New York.
The neighbourhood was basically the same from afar but looking closer, there were signs that life had moved on. Besides the usual house renovations, her elementary school playground had been completely replaced and there was a now sculpture outside the library, a tree with owls reading books on the branches.
But the biggest shock was the state of the Weatherthy's rose garden. It had always seemed out of place, something magical that was contained within an otherwise normal neighbourhood. Perpetually perfect, even in winter when the brightly coloured roses peeked through the dusting of snow.
But now against the backdrop of dark cloudy skies and the quietness of the street, it was like a scene from horror movie. The garden was lifeless, unnaturally devoid of colour. Dead rose trees cast eerie shadows upon the foreboding grey stone mansion. The estate was surrounded by a wrought iron fence, which seemingly kept the effect from bleeding out into the rest of world. Everything was made all the more striking, by how normal the houses on either side looked.
Gwen stood staring at the place, conflicted. Half of her was regretting not bringing along a sketchbook, to draw the scene before her. But the other part of her, felt an unexpected sense of loss. As a little girl she made countless drawings of garden in its former glory, imagining herself as the Queen of Hearts.
She gave her head a slight shake, trying to clear the thoughts out of her head and continued steadily towards the local garage.
Less than two miles away, Duncan had just sent his work crew off to lunch early. In truth had been more of an excuse to spend some time alone. The exterior of the building had looked the same for over 50 years, old fashioned and traditional and the attitude of TT Auto was much the same.
Most of the mechanics there were dismissive of his age and appearance, even though they had chosen to stay on after Duncan had bought the business. He really didn't care, so long as they followed his orders and did their jobs properly. Things had a habit of working out for him, even if it wasn't in the way he expected.
As soon as the cast had finally got out of their Total Drama contract, his band Der Schnitzel Kickers was given the chance to tour. They started out in dinky little clubs and by the end they were performing in stadiums.
After Der Schnitzel Kickers had played their final concert in London, Duncan turned his attention to acting. He had been flooded with offers since his Total Drama days. Landing a major part in big budget film, he was on top of the world. But it wasn't long before it all came crashing down, following a nasty incident on set, he was blacklisted,
In the following months, he blew through most of his money through gambling, wild parties and buying everything in sight. The realisation of how far he had sunk, only hit him when he ended living out of a cheap motel, scamming food and booze off pretty but gullible girls. So he had pulled himself as best he could, to look for an apartment and ended up buying his first garage.
It wasn't a shock to anyone. During that period of his life, Duncan was generally being drunk, hung over or worse. Naturally if you ask him about it now, he'll swear that's what he meant to do all along.
Things had got off to rocky start. Duncan wasn't the easiest person to deal with, particularly for the guys who had been coerced in to working there. But slowly he got to know everyone, he had eased up. To his surprise, Duncan found that he enjoyed running the garage. After having people telling him what to do for most of his life, it was satisfying to finally be the boss. Especially when it meant his employees took care of anything that he didn't want to do himself.
It didn't hurt that most of the customers were young women who were Total Drama or Der Schnitzel Kickers fans. Even if Duncan overcharged the particularly zealous ones or talked them in to getting services that they really didn't need.
With the business becoming quite profitable, a fancy apartment just outside of Toronto and basically his pick of women, Duncan had a life many people would have envied. But despite everything he found himself getting restless, on an impulse he decided to open a second garage. The fact he was expanding in to Gwen's hometown didn't mean anything. The old owners had retired right when he had been looking to buy and the commute wasn't too bad. He didn't ever expect Gwen to return from New York anyway.
As he finished double checking the last car, he slid out from underneath its chassis and gave a small sigh of boredom. Duncan peeled off his oil stained coveralls and hung them on one of the hooks, next to door that separated the workshop from office and reception area.
After washing his hands, he strode in to the office and sunk in to an executive leather chair. The chair was the only thing in the room he actually liked and that included the room. Small, cramped and surrounded with clutter, it uncomfortably reminded him of all the time he spent in the principal's office.
But most of his hate was for the amount of paperwork piled on the desk. Unlike the rest of the world, TT Auto had not moved to an electronic system and it was going to take a lot of time and money to update the everything. Not wanting to think about it, he swivelled the chair around, turning his back on the paperwork. In the process, he knocked down a pile of invoices. Duncan grunted and rolled his eyes in annoyance but didn't bother to pick them up. He'd have someone else do that and go through it all.
If he had just bothered to look at the very top of pile, he might have noticed a sticky note attached to one of the invoices. With a scribble, the note stated the owner's daughter would be picking up the car instead. Maybe that was fate taking a hand, making sure that neither Duncan nor Gwen had any advantage when their world's collided again.
