"We loved with a love that was more than love."
-Edgar Allan Poe
*****
A thin, lanky boy with a thick head of shoulder-length black hair hurriedly walked off the campus of the University by twilight with only a bag of possessions in one hand, and in the other, a letter he intended to drop off at the post office on his way out. The hurriedly-penned letter was Jules' last loose end to tie up before he left for his new adventure. He didn't write much:
July 15th, 1847
Dearest Father,
I am writing this to you to inform you that I have plans to leave Paris for a while during my Summer break from classes at law school. I realise that you do not wish for me to make my money pursuing the literary arts, but I feel it is my true calling. Please do not look for me, as I am looking for my mentor to teach me how to be the best author I can be. I hope someday I may make you proud.
Sincerely,
Jules Gabriel Verne
Jules knew where he had to go to meet this mentor. He had read all about him and knew just where he would be and at 9pm, he hopped on the ship to the Americas. Boston, to be exact. The trip was long and brutal, and many of his crewmates did not survive. At night the only thing that kept his spirits up was a picture of a sullen mustachioed man. A mister Edgar Allen Poe. Some nights he would look at his picture by the flickering candlelight, imagining himself under his... tutelage.
--
Poe sat on his bedside weeping. It had only been a few months since the death of his wife and cousin, Virginia. He didn't know what to do but to drink cheap wine and soak in his misery. Yes, many people died from Tuberculosis these days, but that didn't make the pain of losing the love of his life any less painful.
A pile of letters accumulated at his door, most from the landlord, some from the local newspaper he owed money to, and more than a couple hastily and fanatically written letters penned by a mister Jules Verne.
Poe didn't know what any of the letters said. He did not have the time nor the energy to read silly little fan letters, even if the latest one announced an admittedly obtrusive visit.
---
Poe awoke from his drunken slumber to a pounding on his door.
"What do you want?", he slurred as he held his hungover head.
"Terribly sorry to wake you, sir but it's me."
"Me who?", Poe barked.
"Jules Verne, sir", Jules replied, in admittedly a more discouraged tone.
"Never knew a Jules Verne. Fuck off."
"B-but, I sent you those letters."
"Letters?"
"Well of course sir. I was hoping you could take me in for a while as a... mentor?"
"Hang on a second..."
Poe sat up. This annoying kid wasn't going to leave, he could tell. He had to think. Fuck his head hurt. His eyes scanned the room. He noticed the pile of letters first, but then more importantly, he noticed that his wine bottle was empty. He devised a plan to get him away for a bit.
He stood up and shuffled over to the door, picking up the wine bottle as he went. Using his feet he shook the papers around.
"OH! Yes, Jules Verne! Well if you're to be staying here could you uhh... do me a favour?"
"Oh anything sir!"
He unlatched the heavy oak door and shoved only his arm out holding the bottle.
"Fetch me another one of these then."
Jules was ecstatic! He got to help out Edgar Allen Poe! He snatched the bottle and ran off to the tavern he saw on his way to Poe's home.
Meanwhile, Poe picked up the papers and quickly organised them, making it seem like he had read them. His headache pounded, but at least that annoying kid was gone... for now. Slowly he nodded off.
--
Poe awoke with a start. Knocking again! Surely that kid hadn't gotten his wine that fast.
"Hold your horses...ehh...John!"
"It... it's Jules. And I have your wine"
Poe ripped the door open and snatched the wine out of his hands in one quick motion.
"Brilliant.", he responded, not bothering to cover up the fact that he didn't care for his feelings. He went to shut the door but was stopped by Verne's foot.
"The fuck do you want?"
"Sir, I explained in the letter... I came from Paris-"
"So?"
"So... I was... well hoping I could stay with you and learn from you."
"Learn from me? Learn what?"
"Well see I'm a huge fan of your work and I wanted you to teach me how to write."
"What's in it for me?"
"We-...well uh, I have money... I could pay you."
Poe eyed the stack of bills on his table.