Chapter 1 - The Date.

Once more, Vincent dipped his hands into his pockets as though by chance or by some magical luck he would be able to grace some cash in it. Cash that he knew for sure he did not have. But again. Again and again. He shoved his skinny fingers returning back up with nothing but air and dust. A cry almost escaped from his lips as he looked right up to the ceiling.

His eyes flickered down, casting a gaze on the mirror that stood before him. His reflection looked at him accusingly.

"What on earth are you looking for?" He asked, speaking to himself. His hand slid up covering his face in a face palm. "This is stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

"No it's not," he said once again to himself with a mouth full of conviction, clearing his palm off his face to stare at it with much scrutiny. "You look good. Remember you're going on a date. A date with the most beautiful girl in school. You're dating a total baddie for god'sakes. Be proud. Stand tall. Don't disappoint her. She is, after all, Rory McIlroy. The Rory McIlroy, man!

"But you just sunk in all your life savings on a date to impress her. What on earth are you going to do? Nobody is coming to save you this time. Think Vincent! Why do you think Rory doesn't want the relationship to go public?

"Nope. I look good. I got some nice wears for myself. Who knows if I might even get lucky today with her?"

He slapped himself immediately, waking him up to the reality that he was indeed talking to himself. He felt a totally raw feeling of fear shroud him up like a blanket. Talking to one's self is indeed a sort of thing that landed people in mental hospitals. Was he by any chance going mad?

He looked around to see if there was anybody listening to him rant to himself. But he was alone in his room, as he had always been. Somehow the situation made him wish for a second that there were actually people with him listening and waiting to make a joke out of his every move. But no.

He looked at his wrist watch. It was about time. A few minutes before four thirty. A feeling he found to be quite similar to electricity zapped over his body and suddenly he felt energetic once more.

He put his hands once again in his pocket, and pranced himself out of the door to the corridor. While there, his head danced over his shoulders, glaring with suspicion at every shadow that passed by. He wanted by all means to not be seen by Monsieur Dubois.

When it felt as though the coast was clear he walked as fast as his legs could take outside of the hall way, down the stairs to a hall that led straight outside.

There was still no sign of Monsieur Dubois. His lips stretched in a grin. He was lucky today to be able to escape the old man's icy glare, he judged within him before making his way across the hall.

"Do you know you're way too young to be talking to yourself, Mon Cheri,” an old frail voice spoke. It brought up a sigh from the bowels of Vincent, who at this point did not want to bother looking at who exactly the words were coming from. He knew it was none other than Monsieur Dubois.

"Thank you, I'll stop, Monsieur." Vincent replied, unsure of the words to use.

"Sure," Monsieur Dubois hissed. "All that time you take to talk to yourself in your room, I believe if you put in as much of an effort in working, surely you would have paid up your rent by now. Remember, your rent is due in two days time."

"I remember Monsieur Dubois." Vincent sighed, trying his best to move out of Monsieur Dubois' line of sight so he wouldn't see that he was wearing new clothes.

"Good boy. And have a nice date," the old man finally said, with eyes that seemed to pierce just right through the young boy's soul.

 As soon as Vincent heard those words, he ran off, wishing that the heavens would open up and swallow him whole. Immediately he picked off his bicycle and began riding away towards his date, his face as red as red could be, embarrassed that the old man, Monsieur Dubois, who was the land lord of the apartment he was living in, had overheard him.

He rode to the location of the date, one of the most beautiful areas of Paris, housing some of the most prestigious restaurants. This was where Rory had wanted the date to be. A bit fat from school. Beyond the reach of students.

He kept looking at his watch, biting his lips and silently hoping she had not left sake of his lateness. Once there, he stormed in the restaurant, his eyes open, darting the entire place to see her face.

Just a little bit more, and he spotted her seated on a chair looking directly at him, her lips pursed with angry eyes dotting her pretty face. He immediately walked towards her.

"I'm here," he managed to say despite feeling the cold hands of disappointment choking him. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"You better be," she spat, flashing a glare at him. "You made me wait all this while for you. What the fuck do you take me for, Vincent?"

With his head lowered to his chest, he did not say a word. Rory liked people intimidated by her, and what could make her more happy than a tall handsome fellow like Vincent cowering to her voice.

"You're lucky you're cute," she said finally, with a smile drawn over her face, an elbow on the chair, with a finger on her lip which she bit seductively. "You may sit." 

He sat down with a smile. His mind worried, frantically looking for words to say. "Uhm, what do you intend ordering?" He finally asked.

"I would like some Spaghetti Bolognese with some Jamaican sauce to go with it, for starters," she began. Vincent sighed. He knew that alone had taken half of the money he had saved away. Perhaps she would be the only one eating. If he ordered food too that would become too much for his savings to take.

"Waiter!" he called, raising his hands lazily.

Just before him a group of boys were passing by. His words seemed to call out to them as they turned seeking to see where the familiar voice was coming from.

This was Henri Matisse and his friends. A handsome devilish looking boy that had mischief written in his eyes. Once his eyes caught on to Vincent, he bursted into laughter. The ridiculous kind that would have anyone who heard it questioning the reasons behind it.

Once Vincent heard the laughter and saw where it was emanating from, he began looking to the floor, knowing that he was the one being laughed at.

"Well well well, if it isn't Vincent the degenerate." Henri sang out loud, moving to Vincent's direction while Vincent kept caving in, wondering what it was that Henri was doing in the restaurant.

Rory felt herself ashamed to be seen with Vincent and complained as well of his presence although Vincent thought it was because she did not like Henri as well.

He reached the table not so long after. "Is he bothering you, my beautiful?" Henri asked, his hands clenching the table with his friends behind him laughing mockingly, referring his question to Rory.

"Leave us alone," Vincent declared angrily.

Henri's friends rushed at him but got stopped halfway by Henri who brought out some wads of cash from his pockets.

"I'll tell you what," Henri turned towards Rory, ignoring Vincent like he was bereft of existence, dropping the wad of cash violently on the table, "I'll give you all of this, plus a 200,000 dollar car if you leave this piece of garbage you're dating right now."

Without a second thought, Rory with the speed of flight, left the seat she was in, without a second look at Vincent who then carried a face of surprise and shock.

"Thank you, thank you." Rory giggled, hugging Henri who smiled nastily at Vincent.

A sudden rage filled Vincent up immediately and the next thing he knew was that he had punched Henri, knocking him backwards. His gang seeing what had happened, immediately pounced on Vincent, bringing him to the floor, but he was so enraged that both boys couldn't stop him, he pushed them aside and got right back on Henri, punching him multiple times again.

"Security!" Rory called out. They got there in no time to pick up the maddened boy that Vincent had become. 

"You will pay for this, you cunt!" Henri stood up, cleaning his mouth off the blood. He wanted to attack once more but he found himself held back by the security. He could do nothing but curse.

Vincent felt all that he could feel; pain, betrayal, anger, hurt, but still, in his heart, he was glad he gave Henri something to remember. But now he had to face the Vice Chancellor, Henri's father.