Finding Paris

Eyes on Fire

When we arrived at the Vaugirard, I went straight up to the room and flipped open my phone to tell mother of my long day which ended really beautifully. Victor was right behind me greeting Cecile and Pierre goodnight as he closed the door.

What I saw on my phone was a surprise.

I just found upon my dad’s collection your mom’s favorite painting of Sir Sol. I heard you’re here in Paris. Why don’t we meet up? I’d like to give her the painting. I stay near the Musée D’Orsay. Text me if it’s a go. Thomas

How can he contact me like that as if nothing’s happened between us? I was staring into space asking the higher power why that was happening to me right at that very moment. Was that some kind of joke?

“Are you okay,” Victor asked as he started to fix his couch.

“Yeah,” I said nonchalantly. I flopped myself on the bed carelessly and hit my head on the wooden post.

That hurt. Victor looked at me as I went back to staring into space thinking of what I should do. I don’t even want to see Thomas anymore. No, I do. I want to see his face and feel nothing. And besides, father’s Sunflowers on Her Shoes is not only my mother’s favorite painting but also of mine. Thomas’ father bought the painting from our auction when we needed the money for father’s hospital bills.

Victor grabbed the phone from me but I was so dazed that I did not even care. He read the message loudly as if in mockery, which of course was probably just my foolish imagination.

“Will you go?” He asked as he returned my phone. He lay on the couch and stared at the ceiling.

“I want the painting,” I told him. That was not a huge lie because I really did want the painting and if Thomas is going to give it to me without me paying for it then I would oblige. But, yes, it felt so wrong but I really did want to see his face. It’s frustrating now how much I really wanted to see him though he badly hurt me when he said goodbye without much explanation. I figured since not only do I like Victor but I also consider him a good friend that I should tell him what I really felt.

“I want to see him,” I said simply.

“Then go,” he said dropping the words like a heavy metal anchor towards the sea. “And leave me here.”

“What?!”

“I was kidding. We’ve always been together and yet you still fall for those jokes,” he said. He adjusted his pillows and turned his back from me.

What was I supposed to do? I don’t even know if I offended Victor. And Thomas was messing up my head. Screw you Thomas. I am going to see you tomorrow, grab the painting and leave.

Let’s meet at the café near the museum at around ten in the morning. Morgana

Around five minutes later, my phone beeped signaling the arrival of a message. My hands felt sweaty against the screen as I opened the message I was so nervous to read.

Okay then. I’ve got so much to tell you. I missed you. Thomas

“Aaaaaah,” I shouted upon reading that last line. How can he even say that? What was he thinking saying that he missed me? He hadn’t even contacted me long after we parted ways. This felt very wrong. Victor turned to me and stared. We both like to stare, pardon us.

“What now?” He asked clearly irritated.

“Sorry. Go on with your sleep,” I said sheepishly. Why was Victor turning a cold shoulder on me?

“Are you mad?”

“Can I sleep?”

“Yeah, I guess.”