PICTURES | j.p. mangan

five

By the time Marie-Madeleine reached the shop it had just closed, and the sun had gone down.

"Shit, shit, shit." She turned around and rested the back of her head against the wall of the record shop, trying to think of what she was going to do.

Marie's finger's subconsciously reached for the cross that hung around her neck and played with it as she racked her brain for ideas. Letting out a deep breath, she looked up to the sky and admired the stars.

Marie had always liked the starry sky of Saint-Jean-d'Angély, and secretly thought it was quite romantic. In all the pictures, the couple would end up holding hands somewhere that overlooked the city, or a river or a church and the camera would pan up to the starry nights sky and they lived happily ever after, if such thing existed.

Marie was shocked out of her day dream by the sound of a match being lit, and she turned to see who was there.

Despite living in the town her entire life, Marie was ashamed to say she did not know everyone nor know the lay out very well - having spent the past eight years at a boarding school her memory was rusty and forgotten. Even before going away, Marie found that whilst everyone knew her father and brother not many people knew her.

In such a small town, a village really, everyone knew everything that happened. Every scandal, every relationship, every fight, everything. And while Marie would overhear a lot of gossip from her brother's phone calls to his friends, she would not know who they were talking about.

So, when Marie looked to the side she realised she did not know who was stood there or what the shop behind them was. From looking through the window and hearing the music that played when the door would brush open, she assumed it was a café or youth club of some kind, as it all seemed to cater to specifically young men.

The man's face was half illuminated by the light of the moon and his expensive looking suit blended into the darkness of the night. As she stared at him more, Marie recognised him from earlier, the boy she had given her comb to - the one who had defended Michele.

Whilst looking well kept and put together, when Marie properly examined his face she noticed his brown furrowed, jaw tense and preoccupied eyes. She assumed he was upset about getting expelled. That is if he even got expelled, when she thought of it no one had explicitly stated whether or not the boy would be staying at Volitaire but she thought that his expulsion was a given.

He could be an actor, she thought breathlessly, referring to the boy's obvious good looks and painful beauty that he carried himself with. He noticed Marie staring and she promptly whipped her head down to stare at her shoes. A light smile playing on his face as her cheeks flushed slightly.

Marie's eyes fleeted up to look at him and back down to look at her shoes. Going back and forth, and back and forth.

"Did you get expelled?" Marie said without thinking, her eyes immediately widened in shock at what had just left her mouth.

Whilst Marie was chastising herself, the boy just let out a handsome chuckle, smiling to himself and shaking his head before meeting her eyes once more. Marie had pushed herself off the wall and walked slightly closer to the boy whose name she still did not know.

"Not yet, disciplinary hearing tomorrow." He took a deep breath from his cigarette and then threw it on the ground, crushing it beneath the soul of his black leather dress shoes.

"Ah," Marie said, her mind going completely blank speaking to such an attractive man. Once again, Marie looked to the sky and the stars above. "Shooting star," she pointed out. "Make a wish. For good luck." She took a strand of her blonde hair in her hand and began playing with the end.

"Jean-Pierre." He said.

What a charming name, Marie thought to herself.

"Marie-Madeleine." She replied, her eyes focussing on the space between their feet.

Jean-Pierre moved forward and his arms grasped Marie's shoulder lightly as he kissed her on one cheek.

"Thank you, for the comb."