Several decades ago, when the area around the university began to collapse, Gedrik moved from home to home and business to business as one by one the families moved and the businesses closed their doors.  Seedy businesses wormed their way in, only to collapse months later.  Family homes, once owned for generations, were converted into student apartments and left to rot into slums.  He’d see this before, and Gedrik had about given up hope when Jessye appeared to inspect the brownstone that was to become the Scarlet Letter.  Something about her—maybe her aura—gave him hope, and he in turn went about instilling the same in the young woman as she mulled over the potential of the dilapidated real estate around her. 

          Since Jessye fixed it up, and he’s gotten a chance to know her, he’s fallen a bit in love with his charge.  He keeps the place clean, working feverishly late at night while Jessye is unconscious in her room, and Philippe has taken to leaving him a plate of whatever creation he’s developed for the day on the counter before he leaves for the evening.  Jessye has never acknowledged that she knows he’s there, but she can tell by the way she laughs when rumors of his presence are brought to her attention that he’s both acknowledged and appreciated.  


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