A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! I am impressed; I've been away from the Fanfiction environment for so long. It seems crazy to get that number of reviews for a chapter, talk about motivating!

In other news, I have a link on my homepage to my fictionpress account, feel free to check that out. It's a new story, just getting off the ground. It is a quirky office place Romance/drama/humor. So check it out if you feel inclined! I love any feedback,

Thanks and I hope it continues!

Songs I listened to while writing this chapter:

"Breathe"- Taylor Swift

"Unsaid"- The Fray

"I Thought I Saw Your Face"- She & Him

Chapter 3: Just a Piece of Time

I somehow see what's beautiful
In things that are ephemeral
I'm my only friend of mine
And love is just a piece of time In the world
In the world
And I couldn't help but fall in love again

"I Thought I Saw Your Face Today"-She & Him

I took the stairs because I was too exasperated to wait for the elevator and I wanted desperately to burn off this rage fueled energy take was over taking. I wondered if this was what rock stars felt like because trashing their hotel rooms. They likely had the help of some wonderful drugs that took away the sting and burn of reality.

Reality was as dismal as New York weather in the fall. I popped my umbrella up once I step into the street and then mingled with the crowd. Busy, and bustling, just what I needed to take my mind and emotions away for a while.

I thought about just handing the gift card to a panhandler but I have the sinking suspicion that the panhandler type wouldn't have a use for such a gift. I was going to the store near Union Park and then I was going to bestow it on whoever looked the most deserving of 50 dollars in free books.

The walk didn't take a long as a thought I was bustled along with the crowd, and my feet felt like they had jets attached, I was so full of animosity and acrimony. I felt like I might rage at anyone who disturbed me. Thankfully crowds in New York aren't exactly strolls down Main Street in Rosewood. Nobody knows you, nobody bothers you. It's fantastic to live in a place where almost no one knows your name, it's quiet despite the noise, it is serene and beautiful, despite the litter and cigarettes butts that clung to the side walk.

Sooner than I expected I was staring at the big doors to Barnes and Nobel. Well this was it, I could go in, make someone's day and go back home to mope.

Closing my umbrella, I step into the store, half welcomed, half perturbed by the mass of people. It was almost six o'clock, didn't these people have families? Didn't they have dinners to be eating? Were all these people as miserable as I am?

I sighed and headed for the children's section. Maybe I would find some lucky kid to give the card to…

Truth be told, it didn't take long and girl that looked about 9 was standing in one of the isles. I offered the card to her and I explained to her that the card was just as good as real money and that it had 50 dollars on it and I wanted her to have it.

She looked skeptical, so I told her to tell her parents what I had said and they could help her use it. She smiled, but still looked a bit concerned, as if she thought I was only pulling her leg.

As I exited the store I felt this pull to walk over toward Central Park. I loved walking by the American Museum of Natural History; it made me feel as if I was in another place entirely. Like somewhere in Europe but not Reykjavik—Iceland wasn't glamorous. No, it felt like Paris or England, somewhere different and enchanted. I enjoyed walking there, staring up at the huge building that wasn't a skyscraper but instead majestic and fascinating. Apparently I like architecture, I never knew that about myself living in Rosewood, but I suppose that made sense.

I had nothing but time on my hands so I exited the bookstore and headed for the comfort that my destination would surly provide.

I was absorbed in my task, time, direction, the chilly night wind, none of it swayed me or had any sort of impact. I felt at moments like a feather on the wind, happily drifting with no concern for time or space, just floating. It was peaceful and appealing; I even made the mental note to do it more often.

It was in this drifting business, thoughts of him so far from my consciousness that I ended up, standing, staring at York preparatory school, from the far side of the street. What caught my attention was the man locking the entrance door, black leather satchel resting on the concrete steps, tall with dark brown hair.

It was that feeling again, like the first time we met where I couldn't pull away. I couldn't walk, couldn't tear my eyes away. Too quickly he had finished his task of locking the building and the satchel was in hand and then he was turning. I felt the air leave my lungs. How had I ended up here? I was off course and I might have known this had I not been so thoroughly absorbed in not thinking or feeling.

I knew the way to the Museum like the back of my hand. Yet, somehow I'd been distracted. Had I wanted to see this place so badly? Was I really such a sadist? Well, now I had really done it, naturally he took notice of the staring statue-like figure. One thing that stood out in New York was stillness, time moved so fast here, no one, while still living, ever stood motionless.

Graciously, at this point my feet were no longer fused with the sidewalk. They responded and surprisingly they responded with precision and speed. I was stepping away and it was his turn to stare.

"Aria?" He called, like he was unsure, maybe he wasn't certain who I was or maybe he wasn't certain I was real. If it were the last option, I was pleased my ghosts haunted him as his haunted me.

I didn't answer; I was going toward Central Park now. The museum would be in my sights in no time at the pace my legs were going.

The voice was louder this time, more steadfast, more sure of itself, it lacked the question when it called my name this time.

I ignored it as readily as I had the first time. What had I done? Why had I ventured here on some sort of sick whim? Was I supposed to hurt like this? It called again, this time in pursuit and my body panicked; was he really chasing me?

The fact that my arm and part of my coat were snagged confirmed it, moments afterward. Yes, he had, and now he had me caught up.

"Aria?" He said albeit breathlessly, it was comforting to know that I could still render him breathless, even if running had to be involved.

"Hi, um— I need to go." I whispered, finding myself breathless as well.

"I just ran two blocks, I think that means I deserve to know what you are doing here!" He exclaimed, the crease in his forehead showing an inkling of irritation and I wasn't sure why, nobody forced him to chase me down. Nobody forced him to be standing here.

"I was headed to the Museum of Natural History, but I got waylaid slightly when I saw you and I'm sorry, I need to go." I whispered, no longer breathless but not trusting my voice to have any of the strength required to speak in a louder tone.

"Aria, it is almost 7, the museum is closed and you really shouldn't be out alone at this time of night, it'll be dark soon." He told me, as if I was a tourist. As if I was a child.

"Please let go of my arm Ezra. I am aware that the museum is closed, I like it better at night because the people aren't around and I can pretend I'm somewhere else or even a different place in time if I want." I stopped myself. He didn't need to know that, he didn't deserve to know me or my reasons. He didn't get that privilege any longer.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, still holding my arm, as if he knew I would dart off at the first opportunity.

I blinked at him, as if I didn't understand the question.

"Here, in New York, I mean?" He offered.

"I'm studying." I replied vaguely and then gave my arm a slight pull.

"Can I walk you to the museum? Or can I walk you to where ever it is that you are staying?" He asked.

"I appreciate the offer, but I have pepper spray, I can manage myself," I told him wiggling the arm of my coat again for emphasis; reminding him that I was still being held and couldn't depart without my arm and coat sleeve.

"Can we talk? I'll walk with you; we can talk." He said, now sounding more determined, more emphatic.

"Why don't I give you my New York number and you can say anything that has been left unsaid in voice mail?" I said, it stocked me how cutting and sharp I was. It spoke volumes to the fact that I wasn't over it. I was still stung by the way things had ended and now I was returning the figurative slap in the face. "If you'll excuse me," I deadpanned

"Well, I guess I'll need your number first, if that's how you want to play this." He said, his body language revealed the hurt that his quick retort disguised. He had taken a step back, but still held my arm.

Everything in me wanted to give him a cheeky false number, 1-800-don't-waste-my-time or 1-888 don't-bother but I couldn't do it. I rattled off my cell number with quick efficiency and this time when I turned to leave I was met with no resistance and I looked back to see him frantically jotting it down on his hand.

I walked away as quickly as I could without breaking into a run. I didn't want him to know how badly our encounter had upset me.

Tears were prevalent, it was impossible to appreciate the structure of the building or imagine myself anywhere else when my eyes were flooded with tears. I couldn't imagine myself in Paris, I could imagine myself happy and worst of all I couldn't shake the heartache and loneliness that cloaked me. I walk a strange route home, purposely to avoid taking the path I had taken; in case I re-encountered Ezra, so he wouldn't have to see what a child I really was. So he wouldn't have to know how ruined I really was, so I could avoid having to admit that I was still as helpless as I had been when he gave up on us. So I wouldn't have to recognize the fact that I hadn't really learned anything, that I hadn't evolved, or that I was still the child he didn't want.

A/N: So I have a hunch that people aren't going to like Aria's reaction. Is this realistic, is she too harsh, too catty, top snarky? Any thoughts on Ezra are welcome as well. Please tell me if you think this is out of character for Aria… Review with any questions, comments or praise is always fantastic!

Thanks, you're all lovely! x3

I know Chapter 4 is up but REVIEW THIS CHAPTER BEFORE SKIPPING TO THE NEXT ONE!