Diatomic

- 3

Twenty months ago

Moving day

Genevieve had always liked London. She remembered it through the honeyed gauze of a child's eyes, and, as yet, hadn't brought herself to strip back the shroud. She'd come with her mother here once: she'd left with an itchy pink scarf and a head full of dreams.

Now, as Genevieve sat, huddled into a blue Tube seat, she wondered where her mother was - who she was. And somewhere, trapped in the smallest matryoshka doll of her heart, she wondered if soon she might see her mother, somewhere there within the city of Smoke. Just, she could picture her: a honey blonde head of faint curls, parting the crowds with the prowess of an empress, perambulating to the tune of her red Doc. Martins, eyes dancing to music no man had yet deciphered - invincible.

Genevieve refocused her gaze, and suddenly those cherry boots belonged instead to a young art student, struggling on the platform with an unfathomably large portfolio. The train shuddered, the memory landed on the tracks, and with the faint 'shush' of the carriage doors opening, it was forgotten.

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By noon, Genevieve had navigated her way across London; cutting across pigeon paths, avoiding galvanised street performers and decoding the tube map had brought her to a bus stop, one destined to become very familiar over the course of the next four years. She had arrived at Imperial College - 'university' - and there was no incentive to turn back.

The faint 'shush' of the bus doors opening commanded an awakening in her feet and Gen hopped off lightly, her small suitcase thudding in suit. Plastic wheels thrumming behind her, feet beating a steady staccato on the pavement, and mind focused on her resident halls, Gen didn't notice the student running towards the bus stop - or that was his intended course, his route, however, had been redirected by a stationary pigeon he couldn't bear to injure and he now was headed straight for Genevieve.

"Shit."

A kinetic, volatile mass of tousled hair and a rumpled jacket collided into Genevieve's shoulder, jerked her suitcase out of her grasp and sent the bag to a scraping halt just in line with the antagonist's path. Unkempt laces tangled. Feet stumbled. Arms jostled. Fumbling hands dropped an oyster card down a very un-convenient drain.

"Shit. No- No no no. " The stranger cursed violently, running his hands through his hair repeatedly as Genevieve stumbled backwards, pulling herself up and staring quizzically at her assailant.

"Are you- okay?" She thought it perhaps wrong to ask, since she had been the one knocked off her feet, but she wasn't blind - he was in distress.

"Um, no. That was my oyster card with all my money, and I- I really needed it today and it's just, completely-"

"Gone?" She offered helpfully, along with a hand to pull him up (although upon revision her gesture seemed a feeble one, he seemed far taller than her and Genevieve was hardly one for the gym.)

He scoffed. "Yeah." The stranger took Gen's hand, perhaps just to humour her, and hoisted himself up, dusting off his jeans and staring at the ground. "I'm so sorry I bumped into you, are you okay?"

Gen nodded. "I'm fine. But you're not."

"No. Not at the moment." He grimaced sheepishly - well, smiled really, he didn't strike Genevieve as the type who could do much else but smile.

She crossed her arms, kicking her suitcase back up to stand by her leg."Look, how much d'you need?"

"Um, I dunno, about twenty quid? It's quite a way..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. The stranger's eyes were all but hidden by his dark, curly hair but Genevieve could see worry, a lot of it.

Sighing to herself, she turned to rummage in her pockets, pulling out a few crumpled notes, "Here." She pushed them towards his hand.

As if her offer had only just dawned on him - which it had - he began to shake his head wildly with wide eyes. "No, I mean I can't, that's too much, no, I-"

"You say 'no' far too much stranger: take it. I'm in a rush and you need it, twenty-five should get you there. No buts."

The stranger beamed, a 4000 kilowatt beam. "Thank you."

Genevieve smiled, before-

"Fuck, that's my bus." He bolted, with no more caution than before, shouting another 'thank you' over his shoulder as he went.

He swears too much too.

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"You're finally here, it's so great to finally meet you! You know, I've been here for hours, practically dying of boredom and unpacking and just ugh- Genevieve, right? I'm Anna, Anna Smollett. Horribly tedious last name, I know. Anyway, I think I've pretty much finished unpacking so I can help you if you wan- Oh my god I love your hair! What colour is that? It's like lilac and like a nice mauve, is it mauve? I don't know, 'mauve' doesn't sound very nice does it? I'm thinking maybe like violet...Yes! Violet!! And magenta, but mostly lavender and violet. Wow, that's beautiful, and it's really long too, how'd you grow it so long?" The blonde stood in the doorway, apparently unaware that Genevieve was barred from walking into what she presumed was their shared room. Somewhere she wondered if this was some type of intimidation tactic, talking the opponent to death being the primary act of offence.

"Um, coconut oil?"

Anna nodded vigorously, beaming, "Of course, yeah, I think I heard my cousin say something about that; she's a hairdresser in the city and her cuts are to die for."

Genevieve merely offered a queasy smile in return.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I haven't even let you come in yet!"

Anna shuffled forwards in a pair of burger slippers, grabbing Genevieve's suitcase and dragging it into the room.

"Oh no, it's oka-- Thank you."

"Anytime." Anna beamed, heaving it onto the empty bed.

So far, the city seemed to be full of sunshine, or at least full of people filled with sunshine. Yes, that sounded about right. If pathetic fallacy was congruous, and her English Literature A-level had not yet deserted her, Gen was certain this foreshadowed a golden year.

*Cue David Bowie*

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Do listen to 'Golden Years' by David Bowie, you'll probably know it when you hear it, but if you don't - get to know it. It's wondrous.

Anyway, how do you like our characters so far? I think I'm getting to love Anna already, however brief a glimpse we've seen of her. And who is this mysterious stranger? Tell me your thoughts in the comments and please do hit that lil' star in the corner, it makes me ridiculously happy!

Wishing you prosperity in your literary endeavours,

- a m u n e t t e .