Rick rummaged through his trenchcoat pocket, looking for some loose change. He pulled out a dime and a quarter, and inserted it into the payphone's coin slot. He took a deep breath, the air humid from the pouring rain that hit the ground around him. He adjusted his derby hat, the traditional solid black in color and one inch rim, and picked up the phone off the hook. His hands were wet and limp from the rain, like a fish that had been freshly caught.

"Operator, can I help you?" the operator said. Rick breathed in slowly, as he was trying to show calmness while he remained nervous on the inside.

"Yes, can you please connect me to a local number? It's 1 (310) 357-9532." Rick asked. Her home number.

"Right away sir." the operator answered. Rick leaned up against the payphone, trying to relax. He looked around himself, scanning the area for anyone foolish enough to be in the rain. There was a wind gust, which billowed through his open trenchcoat. It was easily secured by it being tied around the waist, so the wind accessed it below that easily.

On the other end of the line, Emily was on her comfy reading chair, a lamp lit by an incandescent lightbulb behind her, and a radio on her right on the bookshelf. She was reading her favorite novel Worse Than Death.

Suddenly, her phone rang. She lifted her head, her brown hair flowing like water: untamed and unheld, yet inexorably flowing towards a greater goal. She made her way to the ringing phone, which was in the far corner of her living room, letting it ring only once. She picked up, clinging to the phone with both hands. It was as frigid as the relentless rain outside: the more she was with it, the colder it became.

"H-hello?" she asked. She had no idea who would be calling at this late hour of midnight, especially during the late hours of October in London. Emily checked the calendar, it telling her it was the eighteenth in the year 1934.

"Hey, Emily. It's me, Rick. Meet me at the train station. Melford station, platform four, between Lyonhurst and Herschel. I have something very important to tell you." Rick said. Emily froze up, in nervousness and for her secret admiration for the man.

"But, Baron Rick, it's near past midnight. We ought not to go out, especially a man of your nobility, and be seen." Emily responded. She feared the love towards the man would destroy his name, and forever scar his name and their relationship, as she was only a middle-classed commoner.

"Good, you'll be there." Baron Rick said. Rick then hung up from the other side, adjusting his hat and trenchcoat and briskly walking towards the station of Melford. He turned the corner, passing Jack's Pub and the small auto repair shop, the rain continuing to fall, dampening his trousers as he stepped through the many puddles that stood in his way. In the way, of his true love.

On the other side of town, Emily had put on a heavy and thick raincoat, violet in the storm, but truly lavender in the sunlight. She had a hat with a wide brim, protecting her face from the rain trying to dampen her spirits. She was also walking briskly, making her way along Moonview Avenue towards the train station. She turned left on Whitton Street and made her way down the short flight of steps, walking, nearly jogging, to Melford station. She the slowed down, the puddles splashing as her rainboots hit them. She passed platform one, two, three, and arrived at four. She was breathing heavily, as it had taken her a brisk five minutes. She leaned up against the platform's pillar, facing the platform four of Lyonhurst. She tightly clutched her cloak, keeping warm underneath, breathing slowly now, her breath warm enough to condensate. She thought to herself what the Baron wanted to tell her.

As we started, Baron Rick was nearly to Melford station platform four, him quietly walking through and around puddles, down the stairs, and slowing down as he passed platform two. He made his way to platform four, hiding from the rain under the roof at Melford station's platform. He leaned up against the pillar, trying to relax. He checked his watch, seeing the time near one a.m.. He sighed heavily, wondering where Emily must be. He looked forward seeing Herschel station platform four, and buttoned up his trenchcoat. He pulled out his pipe, but returned it to his pocket, seeing the futility of lighting up in the moist night. As the Baron Rick waited, his head filled with many thoughts of Emily. He remembered how beautiful she was, how elegant, intelligent, and how easily she could get embarrassed. He reminisced the younger years, back when they were just teens. How she was foolish and brave, trying to sit with the more popular girls that stayed away from her. How she knew the answer to anything that was asked of her. And, probably most of all, how she staying within the library hours at end, while others played through the corridors. He remembered how great she was.

Emily, who was also thinking, leaned not three feet from the Baron, leaning against the same pillar, her being to able to gaze into the moon, him only being able to see the moonlight. They were secretly in love with each other, each willing to do anything for the other, but fate wouldn't let them. The Baron of the British nobility sat facing north, towards Herschel station, platform four. Emily of the middle-class leaned facing south, towards Lyonhurst station, platform four. Two star-crossed lovers, never to be.

Emily watched her watch tick away as it read two sixteen. She clutched her cloak, and went in the direction she came, from the east. The Baron Rick checked his watch, leaving mutually with his lover, in the direction he came, from the west. It was as if they were made for each other, or never to meet directly at all, like two parallel lines.

They were so alike, their stride the same, their steps taken as well as puddles splashed alike. But one difference, very important, very profound, separated the two. The Baron Rick, one of the British nobility, held a stone in his pocket, within a small elegant lavender box, for only Emily.