"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.
"All right then. Get in here. But you stop paying, or you get on my nerves and I'm throwing you out. Got that?"
A lightning bolt of excitement spread through Jules' 19 year old body.
"Oh yes, yes! I mean... yes. I can agree to that.", he responded, trying to not upset his new host.
--
After some negotiation, Poe was finally satisfied with his new guest. Verne was to pay the bills, buy him wine and in general keep up the household while Poe did whatever he wanted so long as Verne could tag along. Verne was to sleep on the cold floor, but he didn't mind. Anything to finally have the mentor of his dreams. Verne's first task was to go get some groceries, which he swiftly knocked out. Ecstatic that he finally met his mentor, he offered to take him out to eat.
They went to a nearby tavern that served soup and sandwiches. Verne felt like it was a good time to finally interview his idol.
"So... mister Poe"
"What is it?"
"What... what's your inspiration for writing?"
"Oh, life experience... history... love, sometimes."
"Love?"
"Well yeah back before..."
Poe trailed off and looked down.
"Mister Poe?"
"WHAT? Nothing. Nothing at all. Eat your damn food and shut up."
The dinner was finished in awkward silence and they quickly left and walked home.
It was a chilly October evening as they made their way back to the Poe residence. Storm clouds appeared to grow in the distance, but they payed it no mind.
When they got inside, Jules lit the fireplace and sat in a creaky wooden chair while Poe sat at his luxurious desk chair and pulled out his half-empty bottle of wine.
"So, uh, mister Poe, are you going to write tonight?"
"Oh yes, I was definitely going to write tonight. Ever see someone write with a corkscrew?"
"No?"
"Me fucking neither", he crossly barked and then promptly emptied the bottle's contents into his mouth. "Go get me some more, boy."
"Yessir"
A harsh rain started falling as the thin, long haired Verne scurried out to get more wine for his mentor. Poe stayed behind, thinking deeply about his recent loss at first, but other thoughts began to come in.