A Night in Paris

Chapter Five: Pieces

16 Hours Left

This was it. Paris's mind lurched into overdrive. This was it. This was the bench in the journal. This was the bench where her mother met Alton. This was the bench her mother wanted the guitar pick to be buried under. This is where all the memories lay.

The bench was really nothing special. A simple wooden structure; five planks lining the bottom and four lining the back, the entire structure weathered by years of rain and snow and storm. But even so, it was there. Small and faint as ever, blue ink looped around in perfect circles, spelling out the name, Paris Alton. The diamond-glass eyes of Paris stuck to the bench, unmoving, like the rest of Paris Waters.

She hasn't moved. She's been standing there, as still as the Tour de Eiffel. Neither man could understand, at least not until later.

The words wouldn't come. Thousands of lost fragments were scrambling in her mind trying to find their way to one another. Instead of piecing them together, Paris did the opposite. With her sight blinded with a new light, Paris trusted her voice. She turned to the hazel-haired, honey-eyed boy standing next to her and accepted the guitar he had been holding.

Understanding her meaning, Nathan turned to the man in the black suit. "Would you like us to play now?" His voice, Paris noted, was considerably softer. Although Nathan may not have understood the exact situation, he did recognize the sobriety of it, and she thanked him quietly for that.

The man in the black suit turned to face Nathan and Paris and nodded. He muttered the stream of words in a quick prayer, a quick goodbye to a woman he had once loved – still loved, with none other than the wind and spirits to hear the man and his rehearsed words.

Paris watched on in absolute numbness as the man in the black suit pulled the final puzzle piece to this tangled mystery out of his own coat pocket. A half-wilted rose. My favorite, her mother had written, because they remind me of the journey of love; how fast it can bloom and how fast it can wilt. And just like that, Paris found the last connection that held her to the city of Paris and the young love it had once harvested between a journalist and guitarist.

They all shifted. Nathan and Paris as they prepared their song and the man in the black suit as he readied himself to say goodbye to a love he had hung onto longer than he should have.

Paris moved the guitar, stirring the birds to begin knocking. Except it wasn't birds. Paris held the guitar upright. Clattered sounds fell down the wood like a solid waterfall. It was in the guitar. Paris tilted the instrument over just enough to have a yellowed piece of paper fall next to the sunset-colored guitar pick.

The realization came quick enough for it to have been registered, but not yet present in all their minds. Paris held up the note, words already forming in her mind to match what might have been written on the neatly folded cover. She was right. The blue ink swirled on the page, corresponding to the loops and dips as the blue inked onto the bench. Wordlessly, like everything else had gone since this trip begun, Paris handed the piece of paper to the man in the black suit.

Guitar pick in hand, Paris strummed a tuning note and started the four passing notes to a melody they had all realized were beating along to the same rhythm of their heartbeats.

It was certainly an oddity, the three of them sitting next to a bench on a clouded day in the city of Paris, protected by the watchful eye of the Tour de Eiffel and the sharp hands of fate. An ordinary citizen passed upon the sight and couldn't help but wonder what it was that made the oldest man carry tears in his eyes. Was it the beautiful singing of the two children beside him, or another force that pushed beyond their eyes?

While the onlooker passed, his eyes trailed past the rose that lay on top of the tattered bench to a piece of paper that fluttered in response to the song of the wind. It was folded into a perfect square with one word written on the top: Alton.

∞

A/N: I'm back baby! You have the combination of being awake at 1AM and the insane soundtracks of some incredible artists to thank. Once again, I have written a short chapter. This was really one of the hardest ones to write, but I pushed and here we are now! Now that the whole gang's together, what do you think is going to happen next?

Inspiration restored and creative juices flowing once again, you can be sure to keep reading for a double update! Thanks for reading, I love you all!