Jammed (Louis Tomlinson au)

Prologue

The sun was just barely hanging in the sky and the air was still a brisk sort of cool. Unlike New York, this city seemed to always be asleep. Maybe that was due to the fact that tourist season had just ended, but the quiet was enjoyed by the locals every early morning.

The café in the corner of the Piazza San Marco was always open, and there always seemed to be someone there. Many thought they served the best cappuccino in all of Italy, perhaps even the whole world, but they may have just been awestruck at the scenery around them.

Never had there been a more serene scene for Jancer Ryan.

Miss Ryan sat outside, as she rarely ever did get cold. It was a rare moment in which she actually got to drink her coffee and savor it. She'd even managed to pick up a newspaper, only attempting to read it because it was all in Italian and that was one language she wasn't strong in. But still, the thought of drinking a morning coffee and reading the paper amused her; she felt like a retired old man. When in fact, her years of work, although small, had put just the amount of strain and stress on her frail body that one might normally experience in a lifetime.

But Miss Ryan knew what she did was not considered normal. She had known from the day she left home, the day she started, and the day it all came crashing down. It was silly to think so at first; she was just a young girl with silly dreams to most. But they surely weren't dreams to her: she was much more haunted than most would know or prefer.

Jancer Ryan noticed the incoming crowds to the square. It wasn't Sunday, but people were always flocking into the basilica. She didn't blame them though: the ancient architecture was flawless and it was hard to believe that the building was a building at all. It could put any human to shame, and everyone knew it. The entire square was alike in that everyone that walked through it felt a little bit smaller, a little bit less important, and a little less noticed. It was a privilege to be here, Jancer thought.

It was her first time in Venice, surprisingly. At least, it was the first she could let herself remember with ease. It was one of his favorite places; she knew that and that was what brought her here. He was always telling her things like that, and although he thought she was never listening, she always was.

He never explained to here why he liked Venice, or other things like the shoes he wore or the shampoo he used. He never got a chance to. But, Jancer didn't need to know. Frankly, she didn't want to know. Becoming too involved in someone complicates things. Even now, she was satisfied not knowing. It was one of the few times the rule ignorance is bliss actually made sense to her.

But of all the rules Jancer knew, whether she followed all of those or not, she had found that specific one, she knew it as Rule #7, had become her most recent challenge. It wouldn't have been if he hadn't been so annoying at the time, she always argued. But in the end, she knew it was her that broke the rule. In fact, she ended up breaking all the rules.

The square was now as popular as it got on a work day. People were bustling through it left and right, some heading to work and other off in such of other things. The café was filling up as well, and with all of the commotion Miss Ryan felt much more secure.

She would never let her guard down. But without any source of defense, security was doubtful in her mind. She scanned the premises for him, as she had been doing for two days already. Yesterday she felt as if she hadn't even gotten up from her chair; she was starting to loose hope in seeing him.

Jancer Ryan knew that hope was a false emotion. Although it wasn't a rule of hers, it was outlined in many. She didn't believe in it or fate of any sort; her only plans were always to act. But she was defenseless now, and with every minute that passed on the long clock tower, she became anxious.