1 A new beginning

I just arrived in New York and I'm starting my enterprise. I'm an écrivain (writer), designer, artist and film director. I hope people will like my creations. Since I was a kid, I've always wanted to start my career as an author and thanks to my best friend Jean Pierre Polnareff, my dream became a reality.

Oh, I haven't presented myself yet! My name is Maëva. I use Wolf as my surname for business but it's not my family name. And plus, if I used my real one, people would have trouble with the pronunciation. I've a little sister who is still in France for school but I, I didn't stop school, I run my enterprise at the same time in America. Also, I'm French and Chinese. I've other origines but these two are officials.

Well, right now, I'm alone in my company but one day, I know that it will be full of people and fans, helping the staff or buying my new works. That hypes me!

I heard the door open. I came downstairs and saw a man with long white combed hair, a black top and broken hearts shaped earrings. He greeted me with his typical french accent:

"Maëva! It's good to see you again! Comment vas-tu (How are you)?

- Jean! Yeah, I'm doing great. It's a surprise for me too.

- Bien (Good)!

- You haven't improve your accent, I see.

- And, déjà (already), you talk better english than me! Remember four years ago?

- Well, it's like this when you have parents who talk more than one language."

We continued our discussion in french, talking about news. The tall man asked:

"Hey, if you're interested, I can show you around!

- Sounds good!"

I closed the door and he started taking me to places he likes, telling me where to go and not go 'cause it's dangerous. He showed me his favorite stores and eventually, we stopped to a coffee shop nearby. It was a simple place. Not too loud, not too quiet: lively enough. A sweet smell was floating in the air. A brown haired man with freckles was selling pastries and coffee to a girl with a red scarf.

"Here you go, Miss Ackerman! Black coffee with the newest muffins!

- Didn't I tell you to call me by my first name? Anyway..." The girl walked to and sat at the corner near the windows, looking at the traffic outside. My friend smiled and waved at the manager when we arrived.

"Oh! Mr. Pol and... Are you Sherry?" Sherry is Jean's sister. We both have black and brown hair and spend a lot of time with Jean, so people get confused even if she looks alike her brother, except the hair color.

"No, she is a friend of mine. Maëva Ko-..? What was it?

- Dude, can't you stop trying to say my last name? You'll never get it right and I told ya, here, my name's Wolf. Nice to meet you... Hum..." I read his badge. "Marco Bott. Is it? I'm Maëva. I've arrived the day before yesterday and this nice fellow was showing me around.

- Oh! Nice to meet you too Miss Wolf! ...Do you want to order something?

- How about I try some basic coffee? Et toi, Jean?

- Ah euh... Can I have a croissant with it?

- Sure!" Marco started his work. We sat in the background while my friend explained to me the distric. "Here's your coffees! And your croissant, Mr. Pol!

- Merci~!"

When the man walked away, I couldn't help but say:

"I recognize this accent!

- Well, he is Belgian.

- Oh, okay... So, this man, just here, is also French if I'm good." I pointed a man with light brown hair and a messy bowl cut before whispering: "He looks like a dick."

Polnareff almost choked on his drink from laughter. He then told me with a more serious face:

"His name is also Jean." Thinking of it, I've also a cousin named this way. "Jean Kirstein. There's a rumor that he has a crush on the owner, you know, Marco.

- Hmm... Yes, love and drama." I respond ironically.

- Au fait (By the way), where are you going to sleep? If you want, you can sleep in my room tonight.

- Hahaha! No.

- So mean... But if you really don't want...

- I know you won't do anything weird. I trust you. I just already share an apartment.

- Wait, really? With who?

- Someone named Francis Bonnefoy. He's also French.

- Wouah, putain (Wow, damn)! America continues to be invaded by Europeans~." He joked.

"T'as remarqué aussi (You noticed too)? Ironic, don't you think? By the way, earlier, you said something about a man named Stroheim?

- Ah oui (yes)! He is the Boss of a german company which sells things about the robotics.

- And?

- They are interested about your stuffs.

- WHAAAAAAT???" People turned around, looking at me. I coughed. "I mean: Really?? Already?

- Bah... This man catchs the stars easily." I blushed and smiled, hearing him say I'm a star. "Also, he said he would like to meet you soon.

- No...

- You don't want to meet him?

- Ye-Of course, I want to meet him!! I'm just shocked! ...when? Did he said when?

- Umm... Soon.

- Sans déconner! No shit, Sherlock!

- I'm impressed of how you can switch languages so fast even when you're stressed. I have trouble doing that often."

I breathed out, calming myself and finishing the coffee. I just realized it but it's really good. The pastries too seemed delicious since Jean Pierre, who's picky about french gastronomy, ate all of his croissant. After a silence, he stood up and said:

"I pay.

- We can share but I won't complain since it's you.

- Yes, gentille~fille!

- Hey!! Don't treat me like a pet! You know I bite~!"

He looked away as we went outside. I would bet he was blushing. He finally turned to face me with a thoughtful air.

"Well... I have things to do. I'll see you maybe tomorrow.

- Hmhmm... Like fucking your dear Mohammed Avdol? Well, goodbye then! It's pretty late, after all, he surely miss you~.

- But I'm not-!

- À demain (See you tomorrow)~!" I smiled at him. He gave me glare while pouting and walked away.

It was indeed late. I returned to my building and finished unpacking tons and tons of boxes. Until, I heard my phone ringing.