Chapter One

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Jean forcefully shoved his bedroom door behind him, causing it to slam and resound throughout the rest of his house.

"Jean, please-" His mother's voice sounded from the other side, but Jean was too angry to stop and listen.

"Shut up!" He bellowed, clenching his fists so tightly, his knuckles began to turn white. His face felt hot with anger, and his shoulders shook.

"I'm only worried about your future," his mother persisted. "You're a wonderful photographer, Jean, but will your photos be enough to pay your bills?"

Jean began to grab things from his room, shoving them into a backpack. He couldn't take another fight with his parents. Especially one about his future. In a way he knew his parents were right when they suggested he change his major, but he didn't know what else he could do. He was hopeless at getting along with people, and hated being confined to a tiny office. Taking photos was the only thing he enjoyed doing. It was the only thing he was good at.

Slinging his backpack over his back, Jean opened the door again, and stormed past his mother. She was a short, plump woman, and didn't look much like Jean at all. He took after his father in many ways.

"Where are you going?" His mother asked, following behind him.

"I don't know. To the University, I guess," he snapped, gliding swiftly down the stairs, the front door now in his sight. Despite his response, he knew exactly where he was going. He didn't want to stay in this house any longer; he would go straight to his university and fill out paperwork to get dorm. Sure, it would be spendy, but he'd get a job, too.

"Do you need any money, dear?"

"I'm fine!"

Jean pushed his key into the ignition, taking a few tries to start the engine. His truck is rather old, but it always does its job of taking him where he needs to go.

He backs his truck out of the driveway and takes one last look at his childhood home before driving off.

It seemed that he fought with his parents at least every week. And it was always something they said to push one of Jean's sensitive buttons. They disapproved of his college, his clothes, the piercings in his ears, and even the way he dyed the top half of his hair. Of course, his parents didn't mean to make Jean so angry; they just did their best to look out for their only son.

Jean was only five minutes from campus when he decided to stop to get a drink somewhere. He needed to calm down before he talked to anyone about getting a dorm room on campus.

The small café before him looked very popular, though he figured it got even busier during lunch hours, and not in the morning when people were usually at work. Jean would usually have classes this early on a Thursday, but his morning class got cancelled. Apparently his professor had a "family emergency".

Dry, colorful leaves crunched under Jean's boots as he stepped up onto the sidewalk, and towards the café door. It was getting chillier everyday, with Autumn just around the corner.

As Jean pushed the door open, it was like walking from winter directly to summer. The café was warm and toasty, and smells of coffee beans and spices wafted past him. The café had two sections- one with a counter and some booths, and another further back with tables. The table area seemed more private, like a place for dinner or dates. But, since Jean only wanted some coffee, the counter seats were the most appealing. He took a seat on one of the red stools, and heard a voice almost immediately say, "I'll be with you in a moment!"

"Fine," Jean answered softly, nodding. He continued to look around the place, a bit surprised he'd never been there before. The lighting inside was bright and warm, and most of the colors were different shades of brown. Behind the counters were large black chalkboards, with various drinks and foods written in neat handwriting, along with the occasional doodle on the sides.

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