Trevor followed directions from the hotel desk clerk to find a view of the city from Montjuic. He guided Chelsea along the road from the funicular station in the direction of the Mediterranean as instructed. When they finally stopped to take in the view, she stood and gazed in wonder. Trevor remained silent for a moment as he looked at the cityscape. Eventually his eyes moved towards to the girl to his right.

"A bunch of the Olympic venues are up here somewhere," Trevor said after he had watched Chelsea for a minute.

"The city is huge!" she said. "Look at that! That building there looks like a... what, sort of an egg, a black egg, maybe a..."

Trevor noted the dark cigar shaped building and added his own description, "More like an alien mother ship."

Chelsea laughed then lifted her camera to snap a photo. Through the view finder she scanned the city for other things of interest. The W Hotel on the coast with its sail shaped architecture was captured in a photo as was the statue of Columbus she hadn't photographed a day earlier.

"Look at this! I got a picture of a seagull sitting on Columbus' arm," she said as she showed the photo to Trevor. "Pirates have parrots, Columbus has a sea gull."

"Where do you think he's pointing?" Trevor asked.

"Well, towards America, I guess?"

"Yeah, you would think, but he's actually pointing toward Africa. I don't know why, probably just a mistake. Something I read says they plan to turn it, so he would point west."

"Maybe he's pointing that way like he's saying, 'Next time, we go that way,'" Chelsea said as she giggled.

She lifted the camera again and zoomed in on something to the left of the cigar shaped building. Several tall spires and construction cranes reached into the sky. She snapped a photo, then showed it to Trevor and asked if he know what it was.

"That's Segrada Familia. That's the place I said we should go this afternoon," he said.

"Really? Wow! Are you sure we can go there? It looks like its still under construction."

"Yeah! Construction started on it, like, over a hundred years ago. They still have another ten years or so before its finished."

Chelsea's jaw dropped open. She was sure Trevor was making up stuff. There was no way he could be right about a building taking that long to complete. She wanted to call his bluff, but only twisted her face into a sour look.

"Let's just have a bit more of a look around here then head back that way. The desk clerk said the walk through the park around here is really nice and we should go here,"—Trevor's finger moved along a map he pulled from his pocket—"it's a museum or something and there's a fountain here. There's some sort of castle somewhere up here too."

"Sounds good," she replied as she turned her eyes back towards the city.

He watched as she stood with her camera held at chest height, her eyes darted left and right to take in the view. She seemed poised to record it all in photos but didn't. No photo could capture how the view made her feel inside. Everything she saw excited her. The approach of a cable car coming up the hill filled her with wonder that set her face aglow. For Trevor, watching her take in the sights was more enjoyable than the view itself.

"What?" she asked when she noticed Trevor watching her.

"Nothing, just... you look different," he said.

"Different?" she said feeling self-conscious.

"It's good. A good kind of different," he stammered. "Nobody back home would recognize you. This is how everyone at Well Stone should see you."

Chelsea blushed and let her eyes drop to the ground at her feet for a moment. A giddy feeling swept in and suddenly she felt... different.

"Come on! There's so much to see!" Chelsea said as she took his hand and headed back along the tree lined road.

After a few minutes of walking Trevor asked, "Are you sure this is the right way?"

"Who cares?" she replied as she began swinging her arms in carefree fashion.

The walk through the park that meandered along garden pathways was broken up by several stops for photographs. Strangers took control of Chelsea's camera and Trevor's phone to capture photos of them, looking like a couple, with picturesque views as a backdrop. Time trickled by unnoticed and with the Montjuic and Segrada Familiar sightseeing and a little bit of shopping behind them, they walked back towards the Gothic Quarter late in the afternoon.

They stopped at the Arc de Triomf and, as they stood in the plaza gazing at the red brick structure, Trevor said, "Hard to believe, but this is where the Eiffel Tower was supposed to be."

"No way. You're making that up. Right?" Chelsea said, now thoroughly convinced he had been creating his own version of history.

"Honest, it was. It was supposed to go right here," Trevor insisted. "They didn't want it, so Eiffel said, screw you, the people in Paris will like it! They didn't want it either, but that's another story."

Trevor looked at her and noticed she still wasn't convinced, "I'm not making that up. I read it somewhere on the internet, so if it isn't true, then somebody else made it up."

"Well, if it was on the internet..." she said with a sarcastic tone. "You were right about that Segrada place taking a hundred years, or whatever, to build, but I'm not convinced about this—"

After snapping a few more photos, they were back on their way into the Gothic Quarter. Trevor stopped suddenly and didn't speak for a moment. He studied the grey stone façade of a building, accented with ornate pillars, brown wood and the golden letters of the sign.

"Subira Cereria, casa fundada el 1761 Pauli Subira," Chelsea read the words on the store front. "Is that a candle shop?"

"Yeah... It's actually the oldest store in Barcelona. Over two hundred and fifty years old, and they sell candles. That just blows my mind."

"Wow, that is old."

"It's not just that it's that old, it's what they sell. Okay, last summer, I was up in Toronto, they have a company there that runs departments stores all over Canada, it's like three hundred and fifty years old or something. It started in the fur trade kind of time, but you can understand how a company like that can survive. They sell clothing and housewares and stuff like that, you know, stuff people have needed for hundreds of years. Sure, beaver pelts might not be a big seller now, but it's basically the same kind of stuff. And, up there, they have the oldest Brewery in North America, like over two hundred years old. Canada—Beer, makes sense, right? But, with electricity and light bulbs and big stores selling anything and everything cheaper, how could a place like this, a small shop that only sells candles, survive this long? It just amazes me."

Chelsea pondered for a moment before responding softly, "Maybe you're looking at it all wrong. Maybe, they sell exactly what people want... and need. Maybe a big store selling cheaper stuff can't compete with something this place has to offer. Maybe you aren't just buying a candle. You know what I mean?"

The downward gaze of Chelsea's eyes and the trailing off of her words made Trevor realize there was more to her response than just a commentary on how a candle shop could stay in business over the years. She appeared to be internalizing and her words seemed to be saying something about herself; something he couldn't quite understand just yet.

Chelsea lifted her eyes and met his. She sensed there was more to this place than just the wonder of the oldest business in Barcelona. Trevor's expression from the time they had stepped in front of the shop had been distant. Before she could bring together the words to ask, Trevor offered up an explanation as to why this place had cast a shadow over his mood.

"This is where my dad got the call," Trevor started. "We were standing right here when my stepmother's dad called him and said she was in labor. Like, a month early. Next thing I knew we were back in Boston. My dad put me in a company car back to New Hampshire."

"Why New Hampshire?" she asked softly.

"School. I was in Concord back then. He didn't even think I might want to stay in Boston. To be there..." he replied.

Chelsea took Trevor's hand and led him down the street into the Gothic Quarter. They remained silent for a moment as they walked.

"Chelsea Bales... Very profound, that bit about want and need. I'm still trying to figure it out, but I'm sure it was about more than just candles and department stores."

A/N - Heading photo - Statue of Columbus taken from Montjuic near Hotel Miramar (221mm focal length, zoomed in a bunch!)