Wine Toasting at Gare de Lyon

Some say that even the sweetness of such cake could not erase the bitterness in a memory one once had.

Some could not believe the fact that The Cook who created such feminine cake was a fine, masculine man.

But anyone could not be less agree that the cake should have been made by love.

In his spare times, Prince Brilliant Bedlizst from The Land of Opylus loved to visit the Real World, The Earth.

It might seem to be not much of a coincidence that his feet were landed upon The Land of Paris.

He was always happened to love the Race of Homo Sapiens. Particularly in Paris, where he could see many beautiful faces, both of masculine and feminine genres, hurried here, hurried there amidst the business of The City that Never Sleeps, where a job such as professional waitress could earn ones piles of money.

But what captured his eyes the most was an old, wary, but friendly-looking building around the corner.

It said Rogue Cafe de Paris on the hanging above its front door.

And the Prince saw some most beautiful cakes, gateauxes, mille feuille, profiteroles-layered banana flambe,and numerous cookies he had never tasted before, displayed appealingly at its window.

The Prince, with such a gentle, sharp black eyes, auburn hair, and porcelain skin as such magnificent Roman Gods wearing a long robe it looked as though he just stepped out of Armanni, was of course let go inside even by the Cafe's fiercest guard.

The Prince,of whom by any ordinary Earth men and women would have been thought to be around 20 years old instead of his true age-58 years old-which was relatively young in term of his world-was thought to be some rich young man who came around the cafe's kitchen to observe how they prepare everything. And it was hoped that he might shall be interested in investing in the future,there thought the cafe's manager who always had such thought everytime the cafe was visited by some fine-looking man; signaling the guard to let The Prince entered the Cafe's kitchen.

Who made those cakes?The Prince pointed at the display window.

The Chef is him, Sir, the Guard answered, referring to a black-haired tall, slender guy behind the pantries.

The guy turned over.

The Prince stared back at him.

Ordinary Earth men and women couldn't tell their similarity.

But for each two young men now eye to eye, they saw themselves looking at their own shadows as if they looked inside the mirror.