Chapter Text
Gustave kicked the door shut behind him, his arms full carrying the last box. He leaned back against the door and took in the mess around him. Boxes everywhere, a few pieces of mismatched furniture scattered in disorder (he needed to go shopping for more to fill in the space of his new townhouse…he hated shopping). So much work to be done. With a sigh, he carried the box to a stack along the wall, setting it down. He flopped over the back of the couch and melted into the cushions, staring up at the white wainscoted ceiling. At least the movers had helped him unload what little furniture he had before unattaching the trailer for him to handle the rest; the trailer would be retrieved by the company later in the week.
He still wasn't sure if this was the right decision, moving back to Lumiere. He knew deep down he needed a change though. He was happy for Sophie, he truly was, but it had been so hard to let go of what they had built together in Paris, the pieces of themselves they left in that city. Clearly he hadn't been able to move on as quickly as she had, not after spending the last two years alone in their apartment in Paris, the idea of selling it feeling too much like the last proof of his failure.
Their break up had been amicable though and mutual. They both were moving in different directions through life, and the longer they had stayed together the more obvious that had been. Gustave sometimes thinks they only stayed with one another as long as they had because it was just…easier. It was familiar. A safety net for the both of them. He was honestly grateful for Sophie's bravery the night she sat him down and forced the conversation they had both been avoiding for too long. That they loved each other, but they weren't in love with each other; not anymore. And that was ok.
Sophie announced her plans to accept a job for an up-and-coming fashion blog that would allow her to travel and that the apartment was Gustave's to do with as he pleased. While he was happy for her, he could not bring himself to immediately leave himself. Partly because his contract teaching Engineering History at the university had another year, partly because Gustave suddenly felt adrift. 'He and Sophie' had been the plan for as long he as could remember, since they started dating so many years ago now. Without that anchor, that consistency, what was he to do now?
The answer came recently in the form of his sister Emma. She had remained in their hometown of Lumiere, now campaigning to be mayor. The small town's infrastructure could do with some updating. While the history of Lumiere is the crux of its appeal and the center of its tourism, much of it was outdated, the electric grid especially. The heritage infrastructure must be preserved though, and who better to ensure its integrity during the renovations and upgrades than one of Lumiere's own?
Seeing this as the opportunity it was, the change he needed, he sold the apartment at last, packed up, and moved back home.
Gustave thought there was a poetic beauty in that he was going back in order to move forward with his life.
He exhaled and looked around the room again, trying to decide where to begin with bringing this chaos to order. Rolling off the couch and back to his feet, he decided first thing was first. Food.
Searching reviews for the best Greek restaurant in the area, he placed his order on the delivery app then began catching up on the various text messages he missed while unloading the trailer.
Emma: Did you finish unpacking yet? Don't wait or you'll still have boxes laying around 3 months from now…
Reply: Yes, I finished unpacking…the trailer at least. I'm starving, ordering food then I'll begin.
Sciel: MON AMI!!!!!! Hope you had safe travels 💖 I'll drop by in a couple days after you've settled in. We can go looking for furniture for your new place!!!!! It'll be fun, we can drag Lune with us 😄
Reply: Thanks, Sciel, I made it here fine. Better plan…you go shopping and I can just give you my card?
Sciel's response came instantly, clearly already having her phone in hand.
Sciel: Not a chance, Gustave! This is your new start! New place, new job, new life…new aesthetic 😎
Reply: If you insist…
Lune: I don't care what Sciel says, I'm not going fucking shopping with you two. I'd rather spend the next month in the bowels of the Library Archives converting everything to digital one page at a time.
Lune: Nice to have you back, Gustave.
Reply: Thanks, Lune, glad to be back. And you will absolutely be going on this hellventure with us. You owe me after you know what in our third year at university. Yeah, I'm calling it in.
Lune: 🖕 Fuck you. And fine.
Reply: 😏
The doorbell rang, signalling the arrival of his dinner. Gustave opened the door, accepting the bag (thank goodness for modern technology allowing him to have already paid and avoid further interaction). Before he closed the door, he noticed the mailbox attached to the railing of the small front porch had an envelope sticking out. He must have overlooked it as he was moving. Squinting into the glaring rays of the setting sun, he pulled out the envelope, closing the mailbox and heading inside.
Gustave sat on the floor with his back against the couch and set aside the food for now, curious about the envelope. Surely this couldn't be for him, he'd only just moved in - it must have been meant for the previous owner.
Unfortunately the envelope must have been dropped in a puddle or something because the return and mailing address were fairly smudged, most illegible. He couldn't make out much of the return address other than somewhere in Italy. The mailing address was clearly his own, but the name was completely blotted out by water.
Unsure if he should open it, he decided to go ahead with the hope the contents would provide some clue as to where and who it came from or at least who was meant to have received it. He didn't feel too guilty, it was his address after all. Technically it could possibly have been for him. That's what he tells himself anyway, as he opens the envelope.
Inside was a post card and a letter. The post card, a vintage style stating "Greetings from Venice, Italy!" and showing one of the many canals of the city, didn't have any writing with the exception of a sketch on the back. The artist was clearly talented, the detail and shading of the elderly woman making the drawing seem almost a photograph. The old woman appeared to be rolling out dough, strings of cut pasta set to the side.
Gustave smiled and set the postcard on the couch behind him. Unfolding the letter, Gustave read:
My dear Lili,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am sure you are upset at me for leaving as I did, without saying goodbye, but I also hope that you better than anyone can understand why I had to do so. I couldn't stay. Not any longer, not after what happened. I couldn't take their disappointment anymore.
I only left when I did because I knew you were in a better place. You are so strong, Lili, and you don't need me around acting as a shadow. As a reminder. I promise I'll come back to Lumiere, just…I need time.
You will do so well in Paris. I'm so proud of you for continuing your schooling and pursuing your passion for writing. You have inspired me to finally do the same. I am going to travel for a while, play where I can, wherever will hire me, an amateur pianist. I know, I know. "Not amateur" you would say, but tell that to those who want credentials of past performances.
My first stop was Venice, Italy. It's lovely here; you would enjoy it. I'll bring you some day.
I've included a post card. There was a wonderful woman demonstrating how to make pasta. She hardly even watched what she was doing as she chatted with the tourists around her, so used to it from what I presume are years' worth of experience. She seemed happy and so content doing what she loved. I want that for you, Lili. For both of us hopefully.
I've left my phone behind. I suppose I just wanted a clean start. Or maybe I'm just a coward.
I am traveling mostly by train (shocked, aren't you?). There is something incredibly nostalgic about traveling to all of these new places using a mode of transportation I treated as just a toy as a child. Seeing the world pass by the window as I approach a new beginning in a new place, as if I am suspended in a moment of transition while time carries on outside…there is something freeing in it.
I am including the address of the hotel I'll be staying at next, in Austria this time, under the pseudonym Esquie Monoco. I've contracted for a gig the next few weeks at an upscale bar there. If you would like, please write to me. Yell at me. Chastise me.
I'll understand if you don't though.
All my love,
V.
Gustave stared at the letter in his hands, his eyes a bit damp. The letter was filled with so much emotion from the writer. Clearly "V" loved this "Lili" greatly and left a lot unsaid that they decided to write instead. He was burning with curiosity at the vague mentions of what was seemingly a traumatic event for the both of them, something that affected others they knew (who was it V felt they disappointed?).
There was no indication about who Lili or V are though, and Gustave had no (legal) method of finding the previous owner of the house. It had been a private sale, completed via proxy. The previous owner wished to remain anonymous and have a quick sale; the price was too good to pass up and Gustave had signed the paperwork.
He stared at the address of the hotel in Austria, deciding he would have to write to V himself. Maybe V would be able to confirm Lili's new address? Gustave could then mail it to Lili himself. Lili should have this, without a doubt.
The bag of food forgotten on the floor, Gustave got up and began rummaging through a few boxes labeled "workshop" for pen and paper. Finding it, he settled once again on the floor and began to write.
Dear V,
I am afraid your letter and postcard sent to this address did not find "Lili" but myself, Gustave, new resident as of 2 days ago.
I apologize for having read such a personal letter, but the envelope it came in had an unfortunate encounter with water somewhere in transition and most of the return address and the name of the mailing address were illegible. I opened it in the hopes I could figure out who to send it to myself, since the post would be unable to discern either from the envelope.
I am writing to you at the address you provided to your hotel in Austria, to a Mr. Esquie Monoco as instructed, to see if you would like me to forward your correspondence to your "Lili."
Forgive my saying so, but it does seem important. I would hate for Lili not have the chance to read your words.
I wish you the best and, once again, ask your forgiveness for having read your letter. (Your sketch on the postcard was extraordinary, if you will allow the compliment).
Yours truly,
Gustave
P.S.
I highly recommend you visit the Festungsbahn, a very old funicular railway which provides public access to Hohensalzburg Fortress, during your stay in Austria seeing as you like trains (I am an enthusiast myself!). I believe you would enjoy it.
Satisfied, Gustave sealed the letter in an envelope, prepared it for post, then set it aside to put in the mailbox for tomorrow.
He had now-cold souvlaki to devour and a room full of boxes to sort through.
The next day, Gustave woke to the sound of someone knocking, rather loudly, at his front door. He checked his phone for the time, unsurprised to see it was late morning already. After emptying most of the boxes at their designated rooms, Gustave went to sleep late into the night and had looked forward to sleeping most of his exhaustion away today.
Clearly someone else had other ideas for his day.
With a groan, he forced himself to climb out of bed, put on his glasses, and slowly ambled his way to the front door. He rubbed his eyes with his flesh hand and opened the door with his metal one (Lights, was he so out of it last night that he'd forgotten to remove his prosthetic? He'd be feeling that today.)
"Gustave! Mon ami, it's so good to see you!" Sciel immediately threw her arms around him the moment the door opened. "You're still in your pajamas? Daylight is burning! We have a big day ahead of us."
Smiling widely, she pushed a paperbag smelling of butter and sugar as well as a to-go cup of coffee in his hands, stepping around him to walk inside.
"I bring sustenance! I figured you wouldn't have had time to go to the grocery store yet. We'll be doing that too today, by the way."
"You're a saint, Sciel, thank you."
She flashed him a smile over her shoulder as she proceeded throughout the house, giving herself a tour. He had missed her dearly while living in Paris. Sciel had always been one of the best friends he had ever had, to him and Sophie both.
"Ahem," came a cough in the doorway. Flinching, Gustave turned to see Lune standing there, arms crossed, glaring at him.
"Good morning to you too, Lune. Decided to join us then?" Gustave asked with a crooked grin.
"Fuck you. And yes, but we are to never bring up that time again. Understood? My debt is paid. In full."
"Understood." He placed his coffee on the kitchen peninsula nearby and offered his hand to her. They solemnly shook hands before letting go right as Sciel re-entered the room.
"Lovely space, Gustave! I already have so many ideas!" She grinned wickedly and rubbed her hands together in glee.
"Right, yes, of course you do. May I please shower first before we go?"
"Oh please do, you currently have that…"freshly moved" fragrance. I don't fancy the thought of being stuck in a car with it all day."
Gustave laughed, shaking his head. He drank a large gulp of his coffee, sputtered after burning his tongue, then took one of the palmiers from the bag as he made his way to his bedroom en suite to clean up.
A quick shower and change of clothes later, Gustave met with Sciel and Lune back in the open living space. Sciel had already rearranged his couch and the one side table he had. Dishes had been taken out of the box he moved to the kitchen and placed in the cabinets.
"Ready! Onward!" Like a hurricane, she swept back out of the townhouse and hurried to her little two-door, cheery yellow, vintage Volkswagen beetle.
Lune trailed behind her, telling Gustave as he gathered his wallet, phone, and keys, "You're sitting in the back. I sure as hell am not spending the day climbing back there."
Gustave waved in acquiescence, about to lock up when he remembered the letter to V. Grabbing the letter, he walked out and locked the front door. He stared at the letter in his hands a moment before taking a breath and putting it in the mailbox, lifting the little flag.
As he joined Lune and Sciel and climbed into the cramped backseat, he couldn't help the twinge of anxiety that he had massively overstepped. He could only hope V wouldn't be too upset with him for reading the letter.