Categories > Movies > Breakfast Club > Of Big Shots and Bohemians

Prologue I: Black and White

by Sweet_Sadie 0 reviews

Andy Clark lives in a cookie-cutter world with an empty feeling in his heart...

Category: Breakfast Club - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama, Romance - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2007-01-07 - Updated: 2007-01-07 - 1240 words

"Of Big Shots and Bohemians"
Author's Note: I originally posted this on, but a little birdie told me that this site needed some TBC fic...and here I am! This is (in my humble opinion) one of my better rate and review me!

General Summary: It's 1994, and the members of The Breakfast Club have gone their separate ways, but by a stroke of fate, two end up settling down in NYC, one is a well-to-do physical therapist, the other an impoverished bohemian artist struggling just to pay the rent. What will happen when these two extremely different worlds collide again?

Rating: PG-14, for sexuality, cursing, thematic elements and lots of angst.
His stride was rhythmic and bold as he walked briskly in the crisp morning air of mid-March. The day was overcast, yet no rain was expected as it had all passed last night. The city smelled of smog, piss, and exhaust, yet he'd been in the city for coming on 5 years now, he was used to the rancid air of New York City. He wore a black sport jacket and a casual tie and pants. He didn't carry a briefcase, more of a messenger bag. He wasn't a businessman, although he did have his own physical therapy practice. His manner was alert, but somewhat bored. Life was static. Nothing popped out at him. It was just another usual day in a usual world full of usual people. He had ten patients today, then he'd go back to his nice apartment on the Upper East Side and watch some TV, maybe order some take-out, and go to bed. Routine. Ugh, he needed an unusual twist to his life. The lacking of spontaneity in his life had turned his life 180 degrees around since leaving his wild college days. He was the 90's version of a yuppie. A perfectionist workaholic.

He finally reached his destination: 457 West 57th Street. A medical building with white stone walls and carved angels of mercy below some of the windows. Inside was a psychologist's office, a few separate pediatrician's offices, and in the basement was a workout center/physical therapy office where Andy ran things. A small clock above the door read five-to-eight. He was 10 minutes late as it was. His first appointment was in five minutes!

The casual physical therapist ran inside and down the steps to the basement. His secretary, Kitty, hollered, "You're late, Dr. Clark!" she warned.

"I didn't know that, thanks Kitty!" Dr. Clark rolled his eyes. He was only 27, he was in year 2 of his practice and in many ways, still a child. He ran to his private little office and quickly changed into a sweat suit. He had his pants on and his shirt off when he heard the door open from behind him. He didn't bother to look. He wasn't naked or anything. He just wanted to make sure he was ready for when his first patient, a man recovering from a hip-replacement, walked in the door. His practice was on of the most efficient ones in Manhattan.

Two soft, lily-white hands suddenly covered his eyes. He gasped by knew in another instant who it was.

"Guess who?" The light, wispy voice came from behind. Dr. Clark smiled.

"Vanessa! You were asleep when I left!" he said as he turned around to face his fiancée. Vanessa worked as a model for various women's magazines in the area. She was a blonde with straight long hair about shoulder length. She figure was delicate-she was a natural size 2. Her lips were thin as pencil marks, but so red it popped out against her white skin. Her eyes were gray and intense. Today, she wore a small long-sleeved t-shirt with a pink hue and slim flared jeans. Her silver stilettos (believe it or not, her CASUAL ones!) shone like Cinderella's glass slippers from underneath her hemmed pants. She was a gorgeous blonde beauty, another piece of Dr. Andrew Clark's cookie-cutter plain black-and-white world. Yet he loved her.

"I don't have a shoot until 10, so I figured I could stop in on my way uptown and see you! I miss you all the time, you workaholic you!" Vanessa was a good 5 inches above her fiancée, so when she leaned in to kiss him, she leaned down. Andy was never a tall man. He only reached about 5 foot 6.

"What's on the agenda this weekend, baby?" he asked. Andy and Vanessa had yet to set a wedding date (he'd only proposed on Christmas last winter), but they were always talking about prenuptial matters.

"Marietta and I are picking out bridesmaids dresses on Saturday with the girls, and Sunday we need to pick a place. I'm not religious, so I was thinking maybe Atlantic City on a beach at sunset? The sun will look so pretty at sunset, sparkling over the water as it goes down!"

Andy shook his head to himself. Vanessa was beautiful, but she wasn't exactly the brightest crayon in the box. In Atlantic City, the sun set opposite the beach. He was obviously the more intelligent of the two, but he didn't flaunt it. He let Vanessa say what she pleased.

"We'll have this weekend to figure it out. Are you free tonight?" asked Andy. Fridays he liked to let loose for a little while, maybe go to a club and enjoy some night life before he become a husband and potentially a father.

"Andy, I'm sorry, but Marietta, Louise, Jeanne and I are planning a girl's night out tonight, do you mind?" Truth be told, Vanessa had nothing planned. She just didn't like those loud, annoying night clubs Andy dragged her to every Friday night. Andy nodded.

"Alright. It's been a heavy week. Some alone time won't hurt me," he replied.

"Thanks, baby doll!" Vanessa leaned down and kissed Andy again. Andy's watch beeped 8 AM.

"I'm expecting a patient soon," said Andy.

"SO quick to be rid of me, eh? Well, you're not getting off so easy!" Vanessa and Andy kissed one more time before Vanessa shuffled out the door and out of the building.

Andy sighed. She was nothing like his taste of girls in high school. Andy sat down at his desk to wait for Kitty to tell him his patient had arrived. He looked around, reached into his desk, and pulled out a small Polaroid instant photo taken nine years and ten months prior. Andy as a high school student sat on the hood of his dad's car in his driveway in a night scene back in his old town of Shermer, Illinois. A girl dressed in deep black, her hair dangling over her eyes sat beside him, her hand on his stomach as her head was nested in the crook of his arm. She smiled vaguely at the camera and had her foot entwined with Andy's. Andy smiled woefully. It'd been nearly ten years since Andy went off to college and left her alone. He'd vowed to keep in touch, but he began getting so busy at college, and then he met Vanessa and all. By the end of freshman year at Ohio State, she'd all but died in his mind. The picture made her seem less attractive over the years. He'd forgotten her touch and her unique mix of art and humor. He'd moved on, and hopefully, so had she.

After all, all good things must come to an end, right?
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