Chapter 1.1

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L'ÉPISODE 1:

God that was strange to see you again

Introduced by a friend of a friend

Smiled and said "Yes, I think we've met before,"

In an instant it started to pour


For a summer night, the Parisian air was oddly crisp, burning a little through Lisa's cheeks. It reminded her a bit of what she missed in Seoul when she looked forward to the start of the winter, back when she was much more constant in the country. She was glad she brought her wool-blend coat, and hoped, as she hurriedly put it on while walking behind Hannelore on a barely lit street after alighting the cab, that wherever the latter is bringing her would be somewhere warmer.

Hannelore couldn't stop yapping about this place in Bobigny – a good 15kms away from Lisa's hotel in the Paris Centre – that's supposedly one of the hippest new sites for underground music and art, whatever that meant. God knows what "hip" means; being 32 years old your standards of "hip" changes drastically and often lately Lisa finds that for her it meant places that serve good food and quiet enough to hold a conversation.

"But you have to see this, Lisa," Hannelore enthused when she showed hesitation to her suggestion. "The collective attracts quite a few of the better names in the underground scene, so it's definitely a good Parisian experience for you. Lots of beautiful faces, too."

"I'm not sure I care for the beautiful faces anymore, H." Lisa gingerly responded. Hannelore is a friend from London whom she met when she did an art stint in Thailand, collaborating with Lisa on a brand that she wanted to launch. She loved Hannelore's energy then, but working and going out in Paris isn't exactly the same, Lisa noted to herself.

To be honest, when she decided to visit Paris she was hoping for a slow itinerary, one that mostly consisted of afternoon baguettes and coffee, apart from meeting a few other stakeholders and key collaborators for her latest projects. It has been a busy 4 days so far since she landed and felt she has already done her due diligence in terms of Parisian research, having gone out to key events and making sure her name is on every news outlet that covered the scene. She is after all still the face of her brand, despite taking a backseat and handling now only 60% of the creative helm.

So when Hannelore gushed about a "collective underground DJ scene" she wasn't as enthused; after all parties for her are work and if she has to choose, she'd rather rest off her Saturday night instead.

"Don't be an old hag, Lis." Hannelore insisted. "Besides, I think you will quite like the place. It has a certain..." Hannelore paused and waved her right hand around for that French effect "...je ne sais quoi."

"Pretty sure your je ne sais quoiis not the same as the French's je ne sais quoi."Lisa retorted. Hannelore just rolled her eyes at her.

Je ne sais quoiwas definitely not what she had in mind when the two arrived at the destination – the place looked like an old barren building with poor soundproofing. The entrance was littered by seemingly wasted high profiled looking twenty-somethings, with the girls looking like they were in a certain generation uniform with their black boots, heavy eyeliners, and Chanel shirts. It reminded her of her early Balenciaga days, trying so hard to fit into a certain mould, but nowadays she couldn't be bothered. She doesn't particularly stand out on the white sheer cotton round neck cut-offs she wore with her slim fit faux leather pants, but Lisa being Lisa she still managed to turn heads around. She would like to think she aged pretty well; she's still after all regarded as one of the top faces in modelling in Thailand, if not in Asia.

Hannelore pulled her hand and guided her into the building, where the relatively barren space showed more promise inside. The place was sectioned effectively to showcase various art pieces, with some sections at the back hosting antique paintings while some showed a more nouveau art; on one side a live DJ set is blaring lo-fi beats in the dark, with people milling about and heads moving to the music. It felt more like a Berlin rave scene if not for the idea of mixing it with the art displays, thought Lisa, which she admits is quite creative. It looks like the drink of choice tonight is champagne, with most girls holding their tall glasses deliberately like some sort of trophy for the night, while the boys were ungraceful with their half-empty beer bottles.

"I'll get you some scotch," Hannelore shouted into her ear, then disappeared into the crowd. Lisa managed a weak nod and looked around, trying to find some common faces, but with the proximity of the DJ she started getting annoyed and moved towards the quieter section of the building.

A gaggle of Parisian girls emerged from one of the exhibit rooms, and Lisa thought to seek solace inside as it seemed quiet enough. She found a long couch in front of one of the portraits and sat there, staring at the painting blankly and disregarding the other people milling about.

She was tired. She recognized that, but she wondered where it came from. She used to have a much more infinite source of energy when she was younger, now she wondered how a mere decade has turned her old.

She'll be flying back to Thailand tomorrow night, and while she feels she has done quite a lot on this trip, Paris has a certain way of making her feel...unwelcome. Don't get her wrong: she loves the regality of it. But it felt like this place belonged to someone else – maybe anyone else – other than her. She was after all more of a Balenciaga girl growing up than a Chanel. Or maybe Paris reminded her of –

"There you are," She heard Hannelore's voice break her thoughts. She didn't bother looking at her anymore and continued to stare at the painting. She liked Hannelore but to be honest her energy is quite tiring. Lisa always feels like it's a bout of boxing – she needs to rest for every round of conversation. "I got you this neat scotch. They have whiskey stones here so I thought you might like it more than ice."

Hannelore handed her the glass. Lisa appreciatively reached for it when she saw that someone was standing beside Hannelore, someone whose face she hasn't seen in quite a while.

Her.

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