A/N: Bonjour mes copains et mes copines! Je suis bien parce-que je suis alle a Paris! For those of you that don't speak French (or do-sorry my computer doesn't add the circumflexes and accents, plus I haven't spoken French for a few years so I am rusty on the language) I am currently soaking up the Paris atmosphere. Therefore, I have a new story for all of you to try out, hurrah!
If you see something italicized, pretend that it's in French. I'm not good enough to translate everything correctly.
Synopsis: Musa is a Chinese-American tourist in Paris, particularly on a River cruise. She meets a staff member that she likes, guess what? It's Riven, obviously. What happens when she ventures into a foreign country, happiness, silliness, and downright fun ensues.
Sorry for the short chapter, it is somewhat a prologue/introduction to the story.
She lifted her face to the sky to feel the glowing heat that beat down on her, refreshing her features and lifting her spirits a bit higher. It had been a rough few years before she was able to take this getaway trip by herself. A light breeze drifted through the air and she could feel her hair move in the direction of the breeze, brushing her face in the process.
She breathed in deeply, inhaling the freshness that was gathered in the air, it was a far cry from the very city she lived in, although she had traveled to a city.
A fast string of words that she couldn't discern traveled to her ears from the couple standing beside her, from the little vocabulary and small schooling she had had in the language, she could make out something about being late to greet a family.
She walked towards the building the taxi had dropped her off at and tugged at the rolling suitcase behind her. It was nipping at her heels and she walked quickly up to the building, ready to begin anew, and reinvent herself.
"Bonjour Madamemoiselle," the doorman nodded to her.
"Bonjour Monsieur," Musa replied, smiling and taking in the feel of the new country.
She walked up to the podium and checked into the hotel that she was staying at for a few days.
"You are in room one hundred et twenty two," the female concierge said to her, her French accent thick with a richness Musa's ears had been longing for.
"Merci," Musa replied and heading off in the direction the concierge had pointed her in.
She walked out onto the street, taking in the noses of the zooming cars and feeling the breeze their momentum brought along with them. She could feel the excitement rippling through her skin, the hairs on her arm pin straight.
"Bon matin," the doorman tipped his hat to her as she nodded to him, ready to begin her day.
She turned right and took a quick peek at her map, it was the correct way to the Eiffel Tower for sure.
Her feet padded on the street and her eyes roamed around, taking in the many people, tourist buses, and of course the many cafes and boutiques.
She breathed scents of pastries and breads filled her nostrils which sent her brain into euphoria.
She shivered at the affect her senses had on her, languishing in her Parisian surroundings and falling in love with the city second by second.
It had been a long year for her. She had just graduated from college with a BS/MS degree and was currently looking for a job as a Physician Assistant, but it had been much rougher than a simple graduation. Her father had fallen ill and she had had to take care of him and for the cherry on top, her boyfriend, Jared, of four years broke up with her or rather she caught him humping a lithe blonde in her apartment. Suffice to say, his ass was kicked out the next day and his number blocked. He had heard that she was taking a trip to Paris and had begged her, even getting down on one knee, to not meet a Parisian male.
She hadn't promised anything, but after her rough and tough year she was not on any schedule to meet anyone.
After a bit of walking, Musa's eyes fell upon a structure so beautiful her breath was taken away. She continued walking towards the structure, her pace quickening with every moment that she got closer. She couldn't believe the beauty of the Eiffel Tower. She had seen pictures, but in person, the structure was so remarkable. It loomed in the heart of Paris, watching down on its citizens and giving strength to a beautiful country.
She took a few pictures before standing still, feeling the breeze on her face which brought a sense of refreshment through her body.
Musa walked into the dimly lit establishment and was met with the smell of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. She sauntered over to the bar that was to the right of the place and took a seat.
She ordered her drink without too much trouble and looked around the bar. A man sitting in the corner caught her eye. He had magenta hair and was sitting with a group of men. A few of the men had women on their arms, but he didn't have anything. What intrigued Musa about him was that he had an annoyed face, like he didn't want to be there and couldn't believe that his friends had made him even set foot in that bar.
His eyes made their way to the petit figure that was sitting at the bar, he saw that her eyes were on him and he raised his eyebrow in question. She quickly withdrew her eyes and dipped her head down like she was more interested in the drink that was sitting in her hand. She was wearing a black peplum dress and had on blood red high heels, her hair was down and loosely covered her shoulders.
"Who are you looking at?" Brandon asked, glancing in the direction Riven was looking towards.
"Nobody," Riven grumbled and shook his head."Co
"It doesn't sound like it was nobody," Stella giggled from Brandon's left side.
"Shut up, it was nothing. Move out of the way," Riven growled as he pushed through everyone to get out of the booth they were holed up in.
Musa glanced towards the man with magenta hair and felt a thump in her chest as he walked towards the bar and towards her.
She quickly turned around towards the bar, her back to the figure that was closing in.
"Beer, please," Riven asked the bartender. He had strolled up to the bar until he was standing next to the petite girl with black hair that was in front of him.
He looked over at the girl and noticed that her back was straight and her eyes were focused on the bottles of liquor in front of her.
"Salut," he said to her.
She could hear his voice floating to her ear. The deep baritone of it surprised her and the sound was beautiful to her ears.
"Salut," she replied hesitantly. Her travel guidebook hadn't told her how to handle the locals and being raised to always be wary of strangers, she was cautious with the situation she had found herself in.
"Comment t'appelle tu?" he asked, noticing the very heavy American accent in her French, although he was a little bit impressed by the fact that she seemed to be willing to try to speak his native language. He knew English, as it was required for his job, but he wanted to test out how much the girl in front of him knew.
"Je m'appelle Musa, et toi?" she replied, her voice wavering slightly as the foreign language rolled off of her tongue.
"Je m'appelle Riven," he nodded to her, taking the beer the bartender had given him and lifting it to his lips, feeling the cool sensation running down his throat.
"Je regret mais, je ne parle pas francais bien," Musa recited her carefully planned out sentence, the sentence that would explain her knowledge of French, in other words her miniscule knowledge in the language. She would bet anything though that he already knew she was foreign based on her accent.
"Tu es americainne?" Riven asked. He couldn't help but like torturing her a bit in the language.
"Oui, je suis americainne," Musa nodded. She took a sip of her drink, wishing there was a bit more alcohol in the drink. She couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy around this male in particular. He somehow had the air of her cheating ex which rubbed her the wrong way and made her even more wary than usual.
"Pardon, do not worry, I speak English too," Riven said, his accent thick, weaving itself in the English language he spoke.
"You speak English?" Musa asked, her eyes widening and then narrowing in suspicion. She wondered if he had been testing whether she was French or what nationality she was.
"Yes, it is required for my job," he replied simply.
"I see. What do you do?" she asked, her curiosity slightly peaked.
"I am a waiter on a cruise ship."
"That sounds quite interesting."
She was beginning to feel the adventure of the day begin to wear on her and she desperately wanted to curl up into bed and drift off into a long sleep. The bar stop was to relax her and now that she was relaxed she was ready to go to sleep, granted the man in front of her that reminded her of Jared also helped her feel that way.
"Well it was nice meeting you Riven, but I have to go now. Au Revoir," she quickly said before jumping off her seat and walking out of the bar before he could reply to her or catch up to her.