A cappella

Chapter 6: Royalty

At the café Big Waves of Biarritz, Max was waiting for his friends. 

Sitting in the sunny terrace of the morning, he felt good at the heart of the old aristocratic city, in which he loved...everything!

The former palace of the empress Eugenie at the old port, the Rock of the Virgin in the new museum of the sea, he had surveyed the city at dawn, talking to people he met, learning that these large flowers ,blue or pink, that grew so readily in the region were called Hydrangeas, and the red fruits that were drying in garlands spread on all the windows were of Espelette pepper, a specialty of the region, which are used in Piperade or the Basque chicken recipe... he was already beginning to feel at home, finding landmarks, and friends...

"Hey, Max! You good?"

It was Stéphane leaving the passers-stream on the beachfront promenade to join him at the table.

He was holding the hand of Flora, who leaned over to give Max the four ritualistic basque hello kisses.

Then they talked, and it was Max who led the conversation, asking questions, telling stories, making them laugh, making a few revelations too.

This is how Stéphane learned that Marion's neighbour actually lived in Austria, nearly 2000km from the Biarritz beach.

A few hours later, Max was at the Bayonne University of Economics. Invited to participate in promotion of his Austrian university, he waited for his turn.

He was used to speaking to a large audience and he loved the electricity in the air before the start of the event. 

He always wore dark conservative clothes for this kind of occasion, nice jeans, a black or navy blue sweater without inscriptions, and kept his long hair stuck in a cap that he would remove at the very last moment before stepping on stage, just as one would take the plunge.

He had not prepared what to say, it was just a matter of sharing some information and he knew he was better when he improvised.

But what he had planned, were those few seconds of silence, which would precede his speech.

Standing in front of a hundred gathered students, he simply listened, smiled, watched and remained silent. This forced them to pay attention...

"I don't know about you, but I'm a little nervous!", he finally snapped in English.

Talking about oneself, sharing personal things, it always made people laugh and yes, even that night, in the University of Bayonne, all the students laughed.

And then Max introduced himself, and began talking a little about his background, his university in Austria, with the ultra modern building built on top of a mountain, the splendid views of the city seen through the cafeteria windows, the internationally renowned teachers, the exchange opportunities that could enhance the professional career of any student of economics or management.

As he spoke, he turned his gaze to everyone and gave them his full concentration.

Deep down, however, still stirred memories of a time when, in his university of Vienna, while welcoming new first year students, he had noticed among the faces before him that of a young student who looked so pure that his eyes couldn't help but be fixed on her and only her.

Yes, it was right at that moment, as he threw himself entirely into his performance, giving it his very best to communicate his enthusiasm, that their eyes crossed for the first time.

She was far away now, and in front of him, others stared at him, other smiles swallowed his words.

But it was in English that he could give it his best. This language was not his, he had learned it at school, but it stuck perfectly with the brilliant and funny character he embodied when he had an audience.

Finally, he thanked the students of Bayonne, wishing them success in their future studies, and walked down the few steps from the platform to find Stéphane who had invited him to speak to his class.

Stéphane was pleased with himself and it showed. There was also the whole group who came to assist them, including Marion, who looked a little upset to discover along with the others the many facets of her new friend Max.

" We'll have a drink together, Max, come with us!", suggested Flora.

" I would love that! But where? Here in Bayonne?"

" You know, they are three neighbouring towns that form a whole, we do our studies in Bayonne, we swim in Biarritz and we run in the forests of Anglet."

At The Café des Ramparts, Max celebrated his success. He was drinking coke, surrounded by his new friends, when a tall young black man approached their table.

"Good evening", he said with a smile, shaking hands.

- This is my buddy from med school, Babakar, who comes from Senegal, Marion explained.

"Max", said Max, rising and slamming his hand hard against the lifted palm of the newcomer.

They began to chat, standing, and it was as if they had played basketball together a hundred times on the fenced courts of Manhattan or the ultra conditioned gyms in Dubai!

Immediately, between them, the conversation flow was so much smoother than with Marion and her friends.

With the latter, Max always felt like he was making more of an effort in order to look and sound like them.

With this Senegalese student, exiled like him, inevitably multilingual, rubbed with different cultures, even opposite ones, the two understood each other without even having to speak.

Babakar, what a funny name, not easily worn here in France! ... But, Babakar, wore it so well, calm, confident, smiling eyes behind his thin doctor apprentice glasses...with him in his group of friends, Max had finally found his fulcrum.

"Max, are you leaving?", Marion asked, rising halfway, forgetting the others.

"No, I'm good here," Max said, sitting back and inviting the African to join their table...

.....

Mannn writing isnt easy! Are you enjoying the story so far? Let me know :) and thank youuu for readiiingg!