Gary Barkovitch

Emmeline sat on a park bench in her city, practicing Pilates while jotting down ideas in her notebook. She had invented a game: to see how long she could hold a complicated pose without falling… all while plotting her mental “mini-mafia” to survive the march.

Suddenly, someone tripped while running, almost colliding with her. She looked up and saw Gary Barkovitch, sweating and with an expression of annoyance mixed with surprise.

"Watch out!" said Emmeline, grabbing onto one side to keep from falling. "Can't you watch where you're running?"

Gary frowned, but didn't respond angrily. There was something about her that puzzled him: she wasn't scared, or nervous, or interested in fighting. She was simply… strange, funny, and completely self-assured.

"I guess... I didn't expect someone... to laugh at me," he said, with a thread of a smile that quickly disappeared.

Emmeline raised an eyebrow and replied in her strange, direct tone:

—Laugh at you? No, just at how ridiculous it is to trip right in front of someone trying to maintain an impossible balance.

Gary looked at her, unable to suppress a small laugh. For the first time in a long time, someone was looking at him without fear or judgment.

"You're... different," he murmured.

"Yes," Emmeline replied, "and you'll probably regret bumping into me."

From that day on, they began to cross paths every day: in the park, on the town's streets, finding small excuses to talk, challenge each other to strange games, or share stories no one else would want to hear. That strange connection, a mixture of clash and curiosity, became something neither of them fully understood… but which, from the beginning, felt like something intense.

Crazy, romantic love