Can't Buy Me Love. {destined person only}

Luce walked and walked, one thing she's been doing ever since she was born, looking over at the stores for a fresh start of visiting this different city. A new chapter she was happy to have happened. Although mostly, the streets reminded her of Verona. She sighed heavily, picturing herself from afar, selling the fruits and vegetables she and her mother harvested through the season. She can recall the busy tourists going here and there, taking pictures of legendary places that range from the House of Juliet. Where came the inspiration for her first name. Where her mother and father have met each other. But that wasn't clear either. She just knew somehow in the back of her mind that that's the story. In any case, she never heard of stories about her mother's past love life. Or better yet, she won't dare mention her side of the tale at all. Things will surely be crazier. But that wouldn't happen. Never again. She can just dream it to life. To be honest to herself, she'd rather choose to fight it over with her mom to reveal the truth. Compared to being alone nowadays. Deserted. She needed someone. But love is an exception. The kind of crappy love she's seen everywhere. She needs less than that. Not much.

Luce continued to find the place she needed. A place where she can get some supplies for her current undergoing masterpiece. She can get some for school later on. Perhaps when the year's close by so she can grab hold to sales and save money. Another thing for summer? It's bad to waste off money just like that. Reality strikes that she needs more for drawing. Not just the usual doodles on parchments and notebooks during school days.

Taryn aimlessly walked along, her eyes vague and empty, looking for someone that wasn't there. Who knew where Rae was, no one did. Taryn was perfectly fine with that, actually. She sung quietly to herself, a sad little tune about death. It was catchy, soft, pretty, to Taryn's ears. The warm weather did nothing to touch the coldness Taryn felt. It was not loneliness, really, not now, not after so long. Perhaps a better word would be emptiness, numbness for wandering by herself for so long. Perhaps she wouldn't've noticed the girl had it not been for this numbness.

Taryn momentarily couldn't place it, but then it clicked as she looked in the girl's eyes. She held the same emptiness-or so it seemed-that Taryn did. And this small detail stopped her in her tracks, hazel eyes staring.

"What are you looking at, girl?" Luce said in her native tongue once she felt a presence watching her close by and spun around from gazing at the glass window of a shop. Well, the girl was too close for her to be aware. The problem perhaps? Awkward to find someone staring at her in the streets. Why now? When she was too preoccupied with her thoughts?

She waved at the stranger directly inches from the face to catch her attention and away from that dream land, slightly smirking at the way that girl looked. After a second or so of giving up, she sighed and went inside the shop, thinking of way better things to do than to amuse herself with a complete and weird stranger.

Taryn responded without missing a beat, trying her best to understand the girl's native language-it was somewhat familiar, not so that Taryn knew it fluently, but enough that her translations would be close enough. She responded, in accented English, "Well, you, obviously. You look like you're looking for something? Lost, little girl?" Taryn mocked slightly. It was just something she was used to-perhaps she should try being a little kinder, Taryn realized. The mocking was subtle, though-she was cruel, not a bully.

Taryn blinked and swatted the girl's hand away. "You want something?" she accused. Then, just like that, the girl disappeared. Taryn watched as she walked into the store, then, shrugging, decided to follow. Popping in a piece of gum, Taryn pushed open the door and entered an unfamilair store.

Luce peered over to one of the stalls and aimlessly checked the contents of the shelves. Looking for a good and manageable canvass to put another piece of her work once she comes up with a perfect picture, she hummed a tune from one of her favorite muggle songs by a muggle-famous band of the oldies. She walked, hands inside her jeans pocket, and examined the sizes of the boards.

Stopping abruptly at the sight of the little curious girl she had just encountered with a while ago, Luce grunted and spoke with hints of rudeness using her now slightly composed English She did decide it best to speak of it as it seems to be that everyone else already does so,

"So you're a stalker too, eh? What do you want? Really. It's freaking me out."

Taryn shrugged at the girl. "I don't forget faces. You have a name?" Taryn's voice was layered with sarcasm. She started mindlessly picking through sketch pads, noticing what the girl was looking for. "You're an artist?" Taryn asked, unable to keep the curiousity from leaking into her voice. She, herself, fancied herself a bit of a sketcher.

"Luce. You?" She spoke without a specific tone in her voice and began picking up her choice of canvass and some new paintbrushes and pencils. Taking out her money, Luce counted what was left. Just perfect. Right. Still amounts to spare. She shrugged at the girl's expression and crossed her arms.

"Not really. But I've been ever since." Luce answered back casually then placed the money back inside her jeans.

"Luce. That's kinda cool. Taryn," her voice was monotonous. She had learned her lesson with the last stranger she met in the alleys about emotion and how you show it. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a small, pocket-sized notebook, along with an equally small pencil and started to mindlessly sketch-it was a person, she thought, though she didn't know who.

"Ever since what?" Taryn couldn't help asking. She spoke in riddles, too, though, so this wasn't new to her.

"Hogwarts or Durmstrang?" Luce began to question more about the new girl and glanced at the small notebook with another query, "So you too can be an artist? That's why you're here?" She did know perhaps that she's not the only person in the world to draw or anything else. But in her case, it was indeed just a small planet to live in. Even in the wizarding world.

"I don't call myself an artist. I just express myself that's all. Well, all I can remember is when I started at four and that's it." Luce told a bit of her memory and shrugged.

"Durmstrang," Taryn nodded in agreement with herself. "Considering I've never seen you there, Hogwarts or...Beauxbatons, I think is the other school." Taryn looked around and found what she was looking for; charcoal pencils. "I fancy myself a bit of a sketcher," Taryn shrugged. "Nothing extravagant, but it takes your mind off things. I needed new charcoal pencils. They work better than anything else for me," she told, holding up the pencils in her hand. "Do you paint? Or pencil drawings?"

"That's all art is," Taryn agreed. "Expression. Everyone's an artist-whether they're good at the form of art they choose varies," she half-grinned. "Four? That's pretty young. I didn't start until I was eleven or twelve." Right around the time Avon died, she finished in her head.

"You already heard me speak in an alien kind of word. So I must say Beauxbatons. The yet fancy and extravagant school for flirts. But I can't get out." Luce rolled her eyes and grunted at the thought of her fellow schoolmates snogging their way out. It was still disgusting after what she had seen at the party with Julian. Horrible and gay. Such a homo.

"I think painting is sort of a little bit more time-consuming. And it can make up most of my day without even going anywhere other than one place. So I should go to quick sketching and I'm done. Plenty of places to wander around." She replied with a smile and tried to remember how she even started the art thing. Or moreover, expressing herself that young.

"I can relate. I hate people like that. I can't imagine going to a school full of them," Taryn wrinkled her nose. She could sympathize with that. "The student exchange isn't over there, then?" she said quietly, almost to herself. That was curious. She'd once been interested in going to Hogwarts, for a new start. But lately, she'd realized she didn't really need one.

"It is. What I don't like about it is how easy and irreversible it is to mess up. And a lot of shitty paintings are called 'art', while the really good ones go unspoken," Taryn shrugged. She'd once went to an art gallery in the park, and most of the artwork that wasn't in museums or famous was better. "Sketching is much more transportable," she agreed, nodding her head with a smile.

"It's there too. But I really don't want to get out of the country. For me, France is just my home now. But through what I see, the city here isn't so bad so why pay a visit instead and see for myself?" Luce answered back and gazed at the streets outside the window. Taryn was right. Why can't she participate in the exchange program? But she can't. She won't. Even if it means going away with the flirty people of her school. It was labeled as some city of love, isn't it? So maybe that just explains why everything seems to get out of control. Or was that really her only reason? Could it be that she's beginning to get a hold of the nicer people surrounding her there? Like talking them for the first time after four years?

Turning back to Taryn, Luce nodded and agreed before anything else was too late to respond, "You're right. I went to some back in Italy. And the arts in the streets were really just magnificent. I remember marveling at them while the painters enjoy my innocent questions. I pity them somehow. They should be the ones recognized and applauded."

"Oh. Well, I guess that's understandable," Taryn nodded slightly. "It's hard to leave home, even when home has nothing left." Taryn closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, more like blinking than anything. It made her think. Why hadn't she up and left Rae? Avon wasn't there; there was nothing to hold her there, nothing to hold her back now. But now that the ropes that tied her there were broken, would she remember how to fly?

"Italy?" Taryn perked up a bit. She'd always wanted to go to Italy. "I know the Italians are very in touch with art. They love to be recognized," she half-grinned. "If you recognize their magnificence, which many people don't. Some of the best art is considered illegal. They should." Taryn looked around the little art store. "They deserve pity. They are the artists that remain unsung."

"Yes. Home. I guess you're right about that." Luce muttered with a low sigh and forced herself on not to think back. She needed not to. She won't ruin her day just because of one thought that she'd rather forget. But somehow, one will really can't forget. That's the hardest part.

"I wonder if I should paint something like that so I can somewhat show how the artists these days deserve recognition. Well, I can still try perhaps. Wanna help?" She changed the subject with a rather fun question that she hoped Taryn will love. And she will herself love it too.