So yeah this may sound really cute and sweet and all angst but this is gonna turn out like Corpse Party near the end. Enjoy!

"Go away- Beauf" The strange woman puffed out a strange coloured smoke, as she looked to the side, eyes probably on the glowing buildings to the south. Paris was such a delight in the late 1970s, and the lights danced to Edith Piaf's famous 'La vie en rose'

Françoise really didn't care. She also didn't care about the broad-shouldered man standing next to her. She didn't even shiver the slightest bit when he went out to touch her shoulder. She simply waved it off. "I don't have time, Ivan-" She scowled at him, but he just smiled.

"How many times do I have to say that my name is Vanya?" He said in a sarcastic tone. Only a faint whiff of his Russian accent could be detected, perhaps he was inheriting the smooth French tone of Paris.

"Je vais se crever le cul." She growled, pushing his face away with her hands, not daring to look him in the eye. How long would it be before he would go away? She knew it was a horrible idea to go to this reunion party- After all, she had business to be attending to.

He stood there for a second, eyebrows arched. "I've lived in Paris long enough to know what your petty insults mean." He said it so sweetly that it was almost as if he was complimenting her appearance instead of insulting her words.

First of all, Françoise was the CEO of a luxury fashion brand. If she ever wanted to hook up with some Russian maniac- Which I remind you she didn't- She wouldn't even dream of seeing the next light of day. Second, she didn't even like him. The only time they were intimate was in high school, and they hadn't even kissed. Not even once.

The list went on and on, but she didn't have time to name all them. Successfully managing to throw the brute of his balance, she stormed off into the dance hall, where she could see all her high school friends dancing to-a-fro, without a single care in the world.

Lucky for her. Now she would have to walk in the middle of hundreds of people dancing. And it was also a slow dance. Amazing.

"Wait-" She heard a male voice call out. Not again.

Françoise lifted part of her skirt up, and made a mad dash through the dancers, muttering a few 'excuse me' and 'very sorry'-s here and there. Why did it have to be here. Why couldn't it have been the Chinese man who always sat in the back- Who everyone thought was dating Ivan and made her break up with him.

Or the uncontrollable American, who seemed to have an eye for deep voices and thick accents. They always got 'along' very well, so there wasn't any reason that they couldn't be together. She has seen them do things many times together- Mostly out of spite.

And why the hell did she even attend a Boy's Boarding School? Specifically an international one?

Je vais se crever le cul - I'm going to kick you in the ass

Beauf - Oaf