The rain began to drift down to the streets, floating on the gentle wind, each drop falling ever so slowly until it came to rest upon stone or earth. Umbrellas bloomed everywhere as people looked up, grumbling, to the grey sky. The rain was falling harder, now; the tiny flecks of mist becoming large drops. It slapped against the windshields of cars and the glass windows of the countless dull grey buildings.

In the midst of all the hopeless, over-educated fools hiding behind their business suits and cell phones, a young man meandered through the maze of streets. He walked with his hands in the deep pockets of his jeans; his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him and a grimace on his face, hidden by the hood of the big black sweatshirt he wore. It wasn't the rain that dampened his spirits. No, not that at all. If nothing else, the rain had helped soothe him. Helped quench the burning wrath that raged inside him.

(A/N: This part should be in italics)He stepped inside the small shop, the warm aroma of coffee beans welcoming him. He scanned the crowded room, searching for the woman he had spent the last eight months with. His eyes came to rest on her, and a sick feeling welled up inside him. A slow intake of breath forced itself into his lungs. She stood in the corner, her back facing him. Her arms were wrapped around a tall, handsome-looking man. Their lips were locked together in a deep, passionate kiss. The woman he had spent eight months with. He didn't bother walking over to them. He just turned around and walked through the door to the grey city.(End italics)

The rain was beating harder still, beginning to soak the heavy sweatshirt he wore. But he didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore. All he cared about was Sara. A wave of grief washed over him, quickly replaced with hot ire. He had loved her, but now he knew what it was to be betrayed. Now he knew what it was to have a part of him torn away and rent into pieces like an old newspaper. He began to run, shoving aside anyone who dared walk in his path. Faster, faster. Turning down this street and that. He didn't care where he was going, he just wanted to get away. So far away. He stopped running when he realized he didn't recognize where he was. He had never been here before.

Shoot, he thought, I didn't mean to get lost. Of course, one doesn't think rationally when he's just witnessed the woman he loved kissing a stranger. He hadn't recognized the man. But it didn't matter. She was lost.