~Dante Experiment~

Prologue

"Those who do not believe in magic, will never find it..."-Unknown.

Jack Dante.

-A nineteen year old genius and child at heart. An amazingly talented man, indeed. A reader, a writer and a dreamer. A writer for a local newspaper for Lebanon. A small town in Kansas.
Our story, begins with him. Specifically, at the moment when he entered a small caffè in Rome. He paid for his own trip to Rome.
Yet his mother, still paid for his tuition. That is, until she died of Malaria on the day after his birthday.
He was trying to fulfill a dream. Specifically, a dream that he shared with his mom. Rome. Beautiful Rome.

A nice place, for dreamers. Most of his daily fantasies, were centered around that trip. A trip that he unfortunately, couldn't share with his mother anymore. He was a very polite and decent hardworking man. With only two and a half months to spare, before his twentieth birthday. He was tall, about 6'2, moderately thin, with green/grey eyes. With fair skin, and black hair with a hint of midnight blue. He never went out without his black squared glasses, and he only went out to do research. The boy was very introverted and barely went out of the house. Instead, he preferred to read books. And especially, poetry, science fiction and historical biographies. It was his favorite hobby. He always wore the same old clothing. A black trench coat, a red colored tie, black pants and brown colored leather shoes.

Something that he'd be known for, later on.

Something rather... "iconic".

Once he got to the caffè, he started reading his favorite book. "The Merchant of Venice" by William Shakespeare. He'd read it every single day. His favorite quote was this one.

"Love is blind, and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit".

Nobody had ever loved him as much as his mother did before her death. His eyes seemed to be glued to the pages of the book. He only concentrated on the words that they seemed to express.
As the minutes and the hours passed by, he decided to look at his wrist watch. It was eight o'clock at night. The caffè was supposed to close at eleven, but he was very discreet about his time. He decided to read some more, and gave himself a nine p.m curfew. People, have assumed before, that Jack had curfews for "every occasion".

But the truth... is that he never had one, anyway.

"Not really"... "Not at all".

As he got to the last chapter of the book after five hours of reading, he decided to order a glass of water. And so he did with a great sense of respect.
A few more minutes passed and he surpassed his curfew. As he walked out of the caffè, he decided to look at the moon, right there near the local bridge. So he sat down for a while and he did so for a very long time. He noticed a young woman who was sitting next to him. Well, only just a few feet away. There were no chairs or benches. But he decided to sit on the cold and humid pavement.
The smell of the forest near by, attracted him. For some reason. He loved the smell of leaves. The trees were the most amazing thing to him... And the best smell that he could ever get.
The weather, "mildly cold"; "somewhat humid".
As he'd like to describe it.
As he indulged in the smell of the forest... He could sense that someone was looking at him.

"Was it a person?"

Yes. It was. It was the same young woman, sitting just a few feet away from him and under a tree.
He; was just sitting next to a silly old stump. That he used as a table, to place his book while he was staring into the moonlight. And gently, reaching for the stars.
In his head, he'd analyze the constellations. He'd connect all the dots; but... That was not how it was supposed to be.
"Is that loser daydreaming, again?"
A sentence that he would hear every day. He was already used to the names.
"Freak", "Nerd", "Moron"... among other adjectives that people would use to describe him.