Elijah was staying in Lebanon for two months. He was thinking about his second feature film. Just like the previous project, this production would come to fruition thanks to some generous sponsors who knew one of Elijahs close friends and who were not asking for anything in return. The cost of producing the film would amount to less than five thousand euros, and being surrounded by a few passionate and precious friends who believed in his work. In his email, Elijah informed Frank that his script would be finalized soon. His Lebanese friends were doing well, his family too. He breathed freedom, far from Parisian oppression, far from his dilapidated palace of fifteen square meters, a living space representing the size of one of his bathrooms in Lebanon and in his own words, The size of my crappers!
Paris the artificial heart of France. City of sacrifices and sufferings in hopes of one day succeeding.
Frank had replied to the message. He updated him on the details of the past few days, detailing how he had met the eyes of a pretty Russian girl who would perhaps make him forget about the one who had made him feel so bad the previous weeks: his ex-girlfriend, who was also a foreigner. He only considered this person as an ephemeral lover when she came to relax and enjoy herself during a usual Parisian trip that she did once or twice a year. Frank promised to keep him informed if anything happened with this young woman and told him to enjoy his vacation in the sun before returning to looking himself up in a discoloured Paris.
2.
Svetlana and Frank had agreed to meet up at the Abbesses metro station. He planned to show her Montmartre as well as the Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris. The weather was not very accommodating; huge grey clouds threatened to pour down. A few beams of sunlight poked their way through the thick cloudy layer here and there, as best as they could. What sad weather for a first date!
Frank had been waiting for ten minutes now. He was not early. No, Svetlana was late. He had already tried calling her but he had gotten her voicemail.
In front of the stations exit, a married couple had just appeared out of nowhere. Followed by a film crew, these people had invaded the tiny place. Seeing all the equipment, Frank thought for a moment that it was a production for a show. There was a cameraman with a Steadicam around his waist. The equipment seemed heavier than the camera itself which was a small digital camcorder. Another person was pointing a portable light. An assistant guided the cameraman who only relied on the LCD screen. A fourth guy prevented an entire assembly of people from advancing too farthe presence certainly of both families and friends. Frank had moved away from them so as not to be seen. The lovers took acrobatic poses, while obstructing access to the metro. Frank found the whole charade ridiculous. This is the kind of craziness that having too much money causes.
People had finally been able to get out of the underground station, once they were finally allowed to pass. Frank still could not find Svetlana, in this wave of people. He continued to follow the commotion from the couple. Then he turned to watch children screaming around a carousel. Nearby, a clown had started juggling. Tourists circled around him. On the right, a man added a beat by turning the handle of a music box. What an anachronistic atmosphere! The charm worked. The magic of Montmartre was exposed to the eyes of all, despite a gloomy weather.
When Frank had looked again in front of the metro station, a woman started to run in his direction. Frank had not immediately recognized her but it was Svetlana. She had let down her slightly wavy hair that day.
Svetlana had a technique to easily curl her hair. She took a shower, then she made braids that she then undid one by one. This process required a lot of time, but her hair remained styled for about three full days. Just the day before, Svetlana had washed her long mane, so that Frank could see her defined curls. Her hair was ash-blond at the roots and bright at the ends. Seeing it at a glance, the colour seemed chestnut brown, quite light. Frank seemed to like the length of her hair, that reached a little lower than her shoulders, and its distinctive natural colour.
In this unexpected behaviour, Frank had noticed her sweetness and felt an immediate attachment to her. Did he fall victim to what is typically called love at first sight? Hard to say. In any case, he was hypnotized, seduced and bewitched by her presence. This real spontaneity combined with her innate and undeniable charm made him weak. One without the other would have produced a different effect.
He had already met very beautiful women who were too arrogant or not very friendly, or even those who were so eager that it overshadowed all their attractive traits. Svetlanas appearance was full of joy, warmth, and was striving to offer a grace that separated her from the multitude.
They had exchanged a kiss on each cheek, both embarrassed and delighted to see each other. She apologized for being late. Frank did not need her to. She was easily forgiven. Her simple radiating aura was enough to redraw a smile on the face of any man in a state of depression. To him, Svetlana a pretty star, which, like an aurora, flooded the sky and the Earth with a special, magical, unique and grandiose atmosphere. She was a hymn paying homage to life.
Frank thought for a while about the best route to climb to the Sacred Heart. They had finally decided to take the first street in front of them, knowing that they had to venture on the sloping roads ahead. Frank, however, had come here on many occasions, without ever taking the same path. There were quite a few access roads. He was very fond of this neighbourhood. He found it perfect for a romantic walk, especially if the sun honoured the day with its presence. Despite not having the best weather, the pair really wanted to get to know each other. They talked about a little bit of everything and nothing, as often happens when two people arrange to meet up and hit it off during a first outing. They both asked questions to get to know each other better, to see if each one reacts correctly, and to see if their conversation could easily flow from one topic to another. Svetlana had told him many random little details. Amongst other things, she did not know how to listen to her voicemail. The instruction manual that came with the SIM card did not have much useful information. Since they were connected to the same operator, Svetlana had given him her phone to show her how to do it. The menus were displayed in Russian! Frank had not been able to navigate through her phone. She had an old coloured Nokia that had clearly been through a lot. Once the summer was over and she had a little money put aside, she was hoping to buy a smartphone. She would return to the technological race and especially to that of consumption Apart from a caveman, who could resist? This evolutionary process is part of everyday life. Nobody is forced to acquire the latest version of an object, sometimes for a simple change of design and a fake new function presented as revolutionary; revolutionary only for your wallet. Frank took out his Samsung, a very old model, too. After searching through the menu, he told her the right combination of digits that would give her access to her voicemail.
Listening to her voice messages, Svetlana had burst out laughing. There were only three people who had her French number because she knew very few people in Paris and her friends mostly contacted her on the Internet. The first to get her number was her Ukrainian colleague, the second was a Russian friend who came to France to work in a restaurant, on the west coast, by the sea. Svetlana would have hated doing that kind of job. She preferred hers, although in her eyes it did not really suit her. The culprit who had left her two messages was none other than Frank who wondered why she was laughing so much. He had simply told her that he was at the place and that he hoped she was doing well. Frank stared at her with a soft look. Svetlanas cheerful and spontaneous disposition pleased him immensely.