Roaming In France

Chapter 01 - Day 31  “Bullshit.” I slammed my hand on the dirty street wall, covered in graffiti and different sorts of posters while taking a heavy sigh out of anger. My head was starting to hurt more every minute as I tried to process what was going on. I could hear everyone talk—all at once. And it’s torturing me. The moment I stepped foot in this country, everything already went wrong. I imagined walking through the streets of the city of love, inhaling fresh air with every step I take, and not having to worry about anything at all. But that was what I imagined. I cannot believe I’m out here—on the pavement—less than a foot away from the road where cars are dashing, drivers are spitting as they pass, roaches and some other bugs I’ve never seen before are randomly crawling around me, and now I just realized the person I talked to about the condominium I booked online was a scam. Where am I going to stay? I don’t know. Where exactly am I? Paris, France. But not that Paris, France. I’m probably in an area that doesn’t appear on the internet. ...That much. I can see the top of the Eiffel Tower from where I am standing. Not that far if I was gonna walk to get there. But the thing is, I am carrying two big suitcases, both bright rose gold, and a heavy, filled duffle bag. And honestly, it’s not big of a deal as I can see lots of people carrying suitcases around as if it’s a daily thing. Another however—like what I said earlier—the condominium I booked turned out to be a f*****g scam. I do not have anywhere to go. It’s not like I can roam around France carrying these heavy suitcases alone. And that’s not the only unlucky thing that has happened today—if that counts as being unlucky and not idiotic for not digging more about that place. I am here as a tourist and not as a flight attendant I used to be. And if that doesn’t sound convincing enough, I’m actually wearing matching grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Not the suffocating crimson-red cabin crew uniform I had to wear every day. I can spot locals giving me judgemental stares. And I think it’s reasonable. I continued to curse at myself in my mind as I tried to contact the person who had scammed me. My body then forcefully let out another heavy sigh when I felt a short vibrate from my phone, and just like what I thought, the universe despises me enough to have my phone at ten percent battery at the time I desperately need it. Easy solution, I can take out my phone charger and battery pack. I could easily do that if my tote bag was not snatched seconds after I walked out of the airport. That’s what I meant when I said that realizing I was scammed was not the only unlucky thing that has happened to me today. Well, I also dented a local’s bumper when my suitcase accidentally hit his car as I was running after the mugger. The driver immediately got out of his car, dramatically, and it confused me. Not after I saw its damage though. The bumper was dented and it did not even inflict a single scratch on my luggage. The guy approached me smirking after letting out a scoff seeing his dented bumper. And during that time, my mind was shouting at me to continue running. Run after the thief, i***t. Like where the hell are you gonna get money to have this poor man’s bumper repaired? In your wallet? Surprise, the wallet’s in the tote bag. Did I run? No. Was I guilty about the damage my luggage did to a stranger’s car? A little. I can say I didn’t run away because of the small amount of conscience left in me. But I won’t. I didn’t run away because a cop pulled over. I dealt with it for hours, completely losing track of the thief. And of course, it was a big mess. I did not have my wallet to pay for the dent, nor my passport to prove to the cop I was not there illegally. I managed to solve that conflict, but now I’m facing another. I placed my duffle bag on top of one of my suitcases as I slowly ran out of hope. Resting my hands on my waist, my eyes started exploring the sky, thinking I’d get to think of a solution. I started to feel more anxious when I saw how fast the clouds were moving and how dim the sky was. Please, Gods, universe, if it rains I might as well die. I brought my palms together and stood up straight without breaking eye contact with the sky. Please. I know I’m agnostic and all, but— My attempt to pray was disturbed when a woman bumped into me, causing me to almost kiss the dirty ground. One of my luggage fell over as I accidentally kicked it when I fell. Is this your answer? J? f**k. I looked up with my brows almost merging together. The woman who thumped me over was glaring straight into my eyes right as I raised my chin. She was towering over me with such dismaying posture while her right hand was placed on her hips and the other was in a fist, ready to meet my cheeks. “Pute,” she cursed, raising one of her brows. She fixed her poise while talking in an angry manner and started walking away after giving me another mocking stare. I was gonna let her go until I completely lost my temper. “Tangina mo din!” I shouted while I was still on the ground. I heard her shout from a distance, and I’m sure it was another curse word. Just in french. A lot of heads turned back at me, and I was again put in an embarrassing situation. “s**t,” I mouthed. One of the known traits about me is that I never curse. Well, obviously, I do. Just when no one is around. People rarely hear me say any bad words. Or, actually, they rarely hear any of the things I have in mind. And those are people I am somehow close with. How else would I be like to strangers? France has just messed me up completely. This is the first time I put myself in this spot. I pressed my palm onto the ground as support to help me stand up. Still feeling like the passer-by's eyes were on me, I tried acting naturally. Which, hell, I knew I failed to do. Immediately after standing up, I looked back on my own ass, like an i***t, when I felt cold on the back of my thighs. I straight away turned my head to view the ground I was standing on after a glance at my back. It is wet. Not entirely. Does not look like water, but just a little bit of moist brownish dirt. And it did get on my pants, explaining why a part of it turned dark gray when it was originally cloud-shaded. It’s my first day in Paris, France, the known city of love, home of luxurious brands, when I got knocked over onto the ground and now look like I s**t my pants. I shook the dirt off of me even though I am well aware that it has already stained my clothes and I would need to wash them for it to wear off. I bent over to fix my luggage that had fallen over. When I got up after getting tumbled on the ground, I noticed how the sky was slowly darkening even more. And of course, after going through consecutive unlucky incidents, I instantly concluded the worst possible scenario that can happen in addition. I guess I’m wrong. And I’m thankful for that. Thank you, J, even if I had to appear like a moron on the streets, at least you answered one of my prayers. “Oh, no, I didn’t,” Jesus responded. Joking. I was mistaken again, he did not answer any of my prayers. It’s not going to rain, and that’s good for my hopeless self. But I am still hopeless. The sun will soon set. That’s why it’s turning dark. I’m not going to get soaked in the rain together with my precious bags. Instead, I’m gonna have to spend the night with them on the streets. There’s no way I’m allowing myself to live homeless while in Paris, literally here as a tourist. But do I even have a choice? I am the firstborn child in an Asian household. In a traditional Filipino family to be precise. Did that sound worse? It is. It was difficult, forcing myself to be independent, at the same time going on the path everyone else chose for me. And all of the shitty, inconvenient, tiring events that have occurred in my life made me want to isolate myself in my own place daily. I can say that I was tough enough to face all of those. But, come on, I am used to detaching myself from everyone else. I am used to staying inside my apartment all day long. And I love that. How the hell would I survive a night in the streets? In a country I am not familiar with. Alone. Still. It doesn’t look like I have a choice. I finally got a sense of reality when I met someone’s eye during my mental hangup still on the same spot on the pavement. They must’ve thought I’m crazy. I’ve been staring at nothing at all for the past minutes I’ve been thinking. But all those thoughts lead me to nothing. I should just get out of this place, maybe. Find a convenience store—if there are even any—to have my phone charged. I started walking, making my way to the center of the city, where there are a lot of people, of course. The ones who can help me are my fellow tourists. And I am certain I can find a lot of them there. Around the Eiffel Tower. I followed the direction where I could see the top of the tower. And somehow, that was the only thing that went correctly so far today. I could figure out how close I was to reaching my destination by observing how crowded it was. My eyes were scanning through the side of the streets hoping I could spot a charging station in an instant. But the number of people walking by me, and even the ones who were walking in the same direction as me were not letting me. Based on what I’ve seen, locals here seem to move and walk faster than the people from the countries I’ve been to before. The further I walk, the more passer-by appears. Making it harder for me to view each side of the streets. I started walking faster when I knew this was taking up so much time. All I see are clothing shops, restaurants, bars, and stores. The sky was getting darker, and the city lights were starting to brighten the whole place. My neck was getting tired trying to look around with my walking pace, and my arms were getting sore having to pull these heavy suitcases. But, no, I cannot start panicking. That’s the last thing I want to deal with. I turned my head to my side when the light coming from there started to bother me. There, I instantly stopped, as if my body was acting on its own. The shining bright light that bothered me while I was trying to look for a convenience store turned out to be the main park—Champ de Mars—where the Eiffel Tower was standing. I reached the center city without even being aware of it. I’m sure that the lights are greatly reflecting on my eyes, now that I am staring at it directly. I can view the whole tower from where I am standing. My jaw tightens when I again notice how my mind is detaching from reality. I know how crowded it is around me. How packed up this place is with all the people walking around, taking photos, and all. But all of them somehow faded in my sight. All the annoying, loud noises somehow turned into silence. A scenario that happened months before started replaying in my head. “Where do you want the wedding to be?” My boyfriend of 4 years, Rhys, asked. But I wasn’t actually paying attention. I was staring at the ring he gave me. An engagement ring, to be specific. He definitely knew I wasn’t listening to anything he said after proposing to me. He was just there, leaning on the balcony railing with his arms crossed, watching me admire the ring on my finger. He let out a small chuckle. “What do you think about Paris?” he asks again before I could even give a response to the last questions he inquired. “Sounds great,” I finally say. With a smile on my face, and my eyes locked on the ring. I return to my senses after a short, awful flashback. I released my bags from my hands after a long time of dragging them around. I stood them both on my sides while I paid attention to my numb hands. Glancing at one of them, I start to feel thorns around my throat. Like that random flashback I had, I again started staring at the engagement ring given to me by my 4-year-long boyfriend, well, now my ex-fiancé. Why is this still on my finger anyway? I start contemplating, in the middle of the park. Again in public, as if I do not care about everyone passing by me. I pulled out my right hand from my side, which is still numb and dazed from carrying my heavy bags, to remove the ring from my finger. You don’t belong there anymore. I thought to myself. And why didn’t I think about this sooner? Hell. I’ve been wearing this stupid ring for so long. My shaking hand slowly takes the ring off my finger. No matter how expensive you are, I will not regret this. Right as I successfully took it off me, my hand suddenly lost its strength to grip the tiny ring I pulled off—causing it to fall on the ground in an instant. “Fuck.” Shit. f*****g s**t. How did I manage to drop that tiny thing? It quickly disappeared from my sight as soon as it fell from my hand. I bent over, almost getting on my knees like an old lady, squinting my eyes as hard as I could to see clearly. There, I once again got aware of my surroundings. I am in a crowded place. People were walking by my sides and in front of me, some of them were even stepping on where I was looking at. I start to judge my posture, losing focus on finding the ring I dropped after trying to look for it for minutes. If I got out of balance in this position, I’d probably actually kiss the ground this time. My back and thighs are starting to hurt too, for f**k’s sake. Also, I was gonna throw it away anyway. I said I wouldn’t regret that! Why am I looking for it? Losing it would not affect me, I suppose. I don’t see the need to have it anymore. I don’t see the need to have it again in the future. I stand up straight after a deep gaslighting conversation with myself inside my head. My back hurts. Why did I do that? I let out a frustrating sigh as I arch my back to try and ease the pain. This is not something I should be stressing over. But... It sure does feel different without the ring... I had it for so long that not wearing it feels wrong. I grabbed my hair and scratched my head. There’s no use arguing with myself. As I said, I don’t need it anymore and I will never need it in the future. It’s pointless. And, yeah, I have better things to do. Why am I wasting my time here? I lifted my head and scoffed in disappointment. It’s nighttime now. The city is getting busier, and I’m getting close to getting f****d. I have to find a charging station quickly before they close. Forget the goddamn ring, you can live without it. Convincing myself to do what I need to accomplish, I again held onto my suitcases. One for each hand, while the duffle bag was hanging on my arm. I was ready to get exhausted again. Ready to go, I started walking at my usual pace, facing away from the tower where a lot of restaurants and bars are. The number of people has increased a lot. Maybe because the sky is finally dark and the lights have been lit. If I was not going through this stupid situation, I’d also probably be one of these people, seeing how I was mesmerized when I first looked at the tower up close. Just a few steps from where I dropped the ring, I felt a touch on the back of my shoulders, putting my run to a stop. I looked back without turning my whole body around as it is hard to move with all the things I’m carrying. I took a peek from behind and saw a man in a split second. There, I fully turned my back to face him. He’s so much taller than me that my head barely even reaches his neck. He had broad wide shoulders and I could see how well-built his body is because of his tight button-up polo. That... It somehow irks me. Don’t ask how his body was the first thing I noticed. He’s tall and I had to chin up to see how he looks. He’s wearing black cargo shorts as his bottom. I also noticed how tight his upper clothing is. Ralph Lauren huh. Great choice, but it still bothers me how fit it was on his body. wtf i hope i didn’t say that out loud We crossed our sights right when I glanced at his face. And I don’t know. I don’t know what got into me that made me look away quickly. wtf? Why is he just standing there? What does he want from me? I purposely tried to look like I was disgusted by his presence before looking up to his face again, to not make it awkward. His eyes were focused on mine and he did not move even the slightest from when I turned to face him. He’s cute. But not cute. He’s annoying. He looks annoying. I don’t know. I can’t decide. A man is always annoying the first time I look at one. Why am I contemplating this time? He doesn’t even look good. And he’s wasting my time! He finally breaks eye contact with me when he looks down on his hand and my eyes follow it. How does a man have good nails? He’s so annoying. “Are you not gonna take it?” he asks. And it shook me. Not that it sounded good. It’s just... It’s annoying. I was just staring directly into his eyes after judging his voice, completely forgetting about what he just said. What did he say? Pretty sure he was asking for my number. Lol. I’m not trying to get hit on tonight. Not tonight, and not ever. I’m single now, but flirting is not on my list of goals for coming here. I am here mainly to heal the pain I was bearing for years. And most of them were inflicted on me by a man. A man. I just know he’s going to ask for my gram. Or ask if I’m single and get shocked when I tell him I am. I’ve memorized men— I flinched when I heard him clear his throat. Huh. Confusion was traced on his face. This guy is just straight-up dumb. Take a hint. I’m not falling for whatever you’re pulling. And actually, I’m just amazed at myself. How could I pull this guy, who’s uh... I can say, sort of good looking, while I’m dressed like I’m homeless. Actually, I am, but you get the point. “I said, are you not gonna take it?” he asked, raising his hand until it reached my face. His hand was so big that it blocked my view of his head. I squinted my eyes to see what he was holding. “My ring...” My palm instantly met my lips as if it moved on its own, making me let go of my luggage. I was covering my mouth as my eyes widened after seeing it up-close. “Oh my god,” I whispered, about to take the ring from the guy’s hand, when I suddenly heard shouts and claps, and people whistling. I slowly put back my hands on my sides while I turned my head in all directions, confused about what was going on around us. Suddenly, I am in the middle of a crowd with this guy. And everyone seems to be watching us. A lot of them were holding their phones in our direction like they were recording us. Or maybe they really are. Some who do not have their phone in their hands are clapping, cheering. I directed my eyes back to him. This guy. He’s just there, standing still facing me as if he’s reading my movements when I am nothing but confused. His posture remained the same, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to move at all. His eyes were fixed on mine, focused, while I was acting the opposite. I try to concentrate on his presence like what he’s doing to me. But having all these eyes on me is difficult. I opened my mouth to try and ask him what was happening, but the loud claps and cheers of the people around us made me shut my lips a second after I opened them. “Congratulations!” a person from the crowd shouted blatantly, dominating the noise caused by others. It made me glance in the direction the voice came from. What? My forehead creased as I felt more uneasy seeing how big the crowd was getting. “I guess we’re getting married.” I heard the guy say, making me turn to him again. He’s still just standing there, staring down at me, with his lips forming a smirk.