From Paris, with Love

KOV

When I was little, my mother always told me the stories of the princesses. How different all the girls were, with someone evil always wanting to get them. But my most favorite story was, The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I know that he wasn't really a princess, but he was a hero to me. Despite his looks, he saved Esmeralda and the town. He decided that his friend should have the girl and was happy with his decision. It's that kind of selflessness that makes me wonder if people like that really exist in a world of hate and despair.

I sometimes wonder if the red string really does exist.

I've read or seen even books and movies to last me the after life and if possible, resurrection. Typically, in the whole cliché teenage high school romance, you have the protagonist who is either a popular jerk or the nerdy shy kid. The protagonist falls in love with the most unexpected person in the whole movie, well if you've seen a lot of those kinds of movies, you totally call it. Then, the couple either start a secret relationship or tell everyone that they're together and just randomly forget about the entire world.

I honestly don't know how Taylor Swift deals with this all the time. Usually when you turn 18, people tell you that you're practically an adult and that it's you against the world. Ten years ago, I would've totally agreed, but now it totally sucks.

I didn't come to Paris for some cheesy romance or for a new start, I came here for me. I didn't travel 5,000 to experience love in the "City of Love." I came here to train in the most elite performing arts school in the world. I'm not letting some handsome prince charming try to win me over by singing songs or playing jealousy games.

They say that love is like a game of chess, one wrong move and you're mated.

Present Day, Paris, France.

Dear Diary,

I'm here at last! After all of the moving and flying, I'm here in Paris! Who would believe that an average girl from Quebec would get excepted into one of the most famous schools in the world?

Years and years of training in ballet, hours of aching feet, and sore muscles finally pays off. I wonder what Katara, my instructor, would say if she saw me right now. What would mom and dad say? Probably, "I can't believe I'm spending $80,00 a year for sending Korra to a school of dancing. You can't even make decent money off of that." Dad would probably say that and I would tell him over and over again that I'm here on a full time scholarship.

I makes me sad to think of how mom and dad don't really support me and my dreams of becoming a dancer. They always wanted to shape me into little versions of themselves.

Well, like what we like to say in Canada, fuck a moose.

I'm at campus right now, and a bunch of people are staring at me. So, I better find my dorm, before a mime finds me!

Korra.

I shut my diary and put it back into my purse. I feel so socially awkward just standing here like an idiot. I don't even speak fluently in French, well thanks to ballet I speak a little. I readjust my bag on my shoulder and grip the handle of my suitcase and keep walking.

Chin up and straight posture. At last I find my dorm and pray to the heavens that I'm not stuck with some weirdo who collects stamps or maybe plays with herself. How awkward would that be? I knock on the door, no one answers. I sigh and unlock the door with the key I got from the front desk.

I look inside of the room, I notice that there are at least six suitcases on the right side of the room. I raise an eyebrow and leave my stuff outside the room. I instantly see that someone already decorated our room and I'm pretty surprised that this person knows my color scheme and surprised at how impressive the rooms are compared to my expectations.

I look at the right side of the room and see that the names on the suitcases say Asami. What the hell? This Asami person had us get this huge room, which I'm pretty sure is the biggest in the entire campus, had my side painted, decorated, and this is like expert level of creepy.

I look at Asami's side of the room. The walls are painted a pretty purple color. There's a mini sequin chandelier hanging, white nightstands and vanity sitting by the bed, paintings of pink cherry blossoms are hanging over the headboard, and light purple curtains cover the window. (Link in profile!)

I instantly know that her side of the room cost about half of my college tuition. I look away from her side onto mine and gasp. The walls are painted blue, with what looks like fine China hanging on the wall, a queen bed with white and blue (Link in profile!)

"You like?" asks a feminine voice behind me. "Ahh!" I scream and turn around. I look at the girl, who is very pretty and is smiling at me warmly as though we know each other already. I look at the girl, she has long dark curls hanging down her torso, ivory skin, and popping green eyes.

She laughs at me and sticks out her hand. I hesitantly shake it in slowly pull it back to my side. "Sorry about the little scare, I'm Asami Sato," the girl, Asami says apologetically. I smile a little and nod, a bit more comfortably. "It's fine, but wait," I stare at her in shock. "You're Asami Sato, daughter of Hiroshi Sato the-" I'm cut off by Asami.

"One of the most famous inventors of the world?" she asks sarcastically. I nod, still in shock. "What's a girl like you doing in this school?" I ask. Asami shrugs and sits down in one of the seats. She looks at her nails and smiles. "I came to this school because of the fashion classes here."

I raise an eyebrow. "Wait, then why aren't you in New York. Isn't that the fashion industry there?" Again she shrugs and stands up. "I wanted to study it here. So, enough about me, what about you, Korra Armstrong?" This is probably one of the most weirdest things that has happened to me. "How do you know my name?" Asami walks out the door and comes back inside with my suitcase and bags. "I did my research on you, before I came here. So why'd you come here."

"Well, I came here because I'm on a scholarship." I instantly feel embarrassed telling one of the most richest girl in the world why I'm here. I mean all she has to do is snap her pretty little fingers and has everything given to her on a silver platter. Asami perks up. "Really, what for?" I shrug. "Ballet."

"Oh, wow. You must be really good then. This school hardly gives any scholarships to people." I laugh. "Well, I wouldn't say that. I'm just an average person."

Asami laughs with me. "So, Miss Korra, any guys you've spotted lately?" I glare at her. "Seriously, it's not even been one hour and you're asking me about my love life? And I doubt that there are any cute guys in this school. In case you haven't notice, there isn't any sports here." Asami smirks at me and then grabs my forearm.

"Oh, contraire, Korra. There are actually some really hot guys in the singing department." I sigh as Asami drags me out of our room. "Asami, I really didn't come to this school for some romance with a random guy, who's just going to be a distraction from why I'm really here." Asami rolls her eyes as we walk down the hall.

"Well then, Korra. You have really bad judgment in colleges then."

So, you guys like? I'm going to make this humorous and serious at the same time. Don't worry, the Makorra love story won't be that cliché in this story. I realized that my own writing style was kinda boring and the plots for my other stories went absolutely nowhere.

So, I plan to make many more chapters after this.

Please review, it's good for your soul.