I Told the Stars about You

Epilogue

Rose's POV

New York is freezing.

That's the only bad thing I can come up with about the city. I've been here for three months and I've succumbed to this feeling of safety and home. There's a scent, a smell, a way of moving, a collective breath of silence in the early morning where the busy haven't awaken. Somehow, it never gets old. The honking of the cars, the loud voices of people crossing the streets while answering a work call, the old women walking their small dogs. Every time in the past three years that I've come here to see another's gallery from my University, I've counted the days until I'd be able to come back. 

The past three months have been a break from France, from home, from the exams and stress. It's just been me and my art.

This time, it's my own work in the gallery. After three years at the Institute of Fine Art and Design in Nantes, I've got my art open to display in the eye of the public. Just the thought makes me jump a bit and bump into the young woman brisking past me, out of the airport.

Quickly, I mummble an apology and move towards the side of the exit to avoid bumping into anyone else. I'm here to pick up Ash and walk him to the gallery, as he's so terrible with directions. You really can't trust him to get anywhere, I think, chuckling to myself.  You'd think, him doing a masters in Sustainability and Geography, he'd know his way around a city. But he's just as clueless as the first time he came to see me in New York.

I check my watch for the time.

5.15pm. 

30 minutes until the gallery opens. My hand visibly shakes and I tuck it into my coat pocket, telling myself it's just the cold, that I'm not actually nervous.

I was hoping I'd be able to show Ash the art studio the Institute lets us work at when we're here and the small apartment I've been renting out these past three months when prepping for the opening and finishing the sculptures I had left. I doubt I'll have time for it now, though.

There's a scultpure I can't seem to get right, and I'm hoping I'll get time to ask Ash about it, as he technically saw me breaking the roses in the parking lot, but I guess I'll have to ask him for the next exhibition I put on.

If there even is a next one. 

I let out a loud sigh and take my phone out of my bag, giving Carl a ring to see how the gallery preparation is going.

"Hey, Carl."

Carl was the first person I met at the institute. He happened to also be working with roses and nature as his first project and we swapped many ideas. Since then, many of the collaborative projects the institute has us do, we do them together. Today, at the gallery, his art work will be right next to mine. 

His warm voice comes through almost immediately, giving me a sense of calm. "Hey, Rose, you're on your way right?"

I look around the entrance at arrivals.

"Still waiting on Ash... His flight has been delayed by an hour." 

I hear him mumbling something to someone and then coming back to me.  "Um.... Rose... Proffesor Lavre said that if you don't arrive in the next five minutes he'll feed you to the fish in the Loire and proceed to dump your artwork in after you."

I chuckle.

"He's just being dramatic."

From a distance, I hear a familiar voice. "Essaye moi, Rose!"

Not good. 

"I wouldn't try him if I were you, he will genuinely kill you." Carl's voice breaks up the sting of curse words coming out of Lavre's mouth, "I'm still trying to figure out if its a leaflet for the exhibition at the gallery in his back pocket or a murder weapon."