My hands were sweating. Nerves made it impossible to stop moving on the seat. The light indicating that I must be wearing the seatbelt was on. I looked out the window and saw the houses closer. Everything was so different, so typically European. Never before I had left Asia. Was I crazy? Probably yes, but there was no turning back now. A hit indicated that the plane had touched down. I breathed relieved, I never liked flying.

A half hour later I was dragging my suitcase toward the taxi stand. The driver helped me get my luggage in the trunk and I showed him a paper with the address of my hotel. He only spoke French so the journey passed in silence.

I arrived at the hotel and quickly got the key of my room and they took care of my luggage. The man at the desk spoke to me in English and advised me to visit several places, I smiled and nodded, but I was not listening. I did not care what he could tell me, I was not here for tourism.

I sipped my tea while watching the people go by. What was I thinking when I came? Paris is a big city with more than 2 million people. How the hell would I find Chaerin here? I did not even know where to start...

I started thinking. Where could I search? Fashion: Venues of magazines, where parades are held, the neighborhood where people with money live... I got it! I'd start with the headquarters of the clothing brand she works for. There was wi-fi in the cafeteria so I could find all those addresses on my phone and I was writing down on a napkin. The search began.

"Sorry, we have no such information, and even if we did we could not provide it" A secretary with a creepy smile repeated in English with a French accent what I've been listening the previous 3 days. I knew it would be difficult to find her address, but it seemed that nobody was willing to even give me her French phone number. Do I look like a psychopathic serial killer?

I left the building, defeated. I looked at the napkin on which I had written down all adresses, which was now full of erasures and broken everywhere. I had run out of ideas. I sighed and looked at the sky. It was gray and the rain was threatening. I did not expect the weather to be so cold when I came so I had to buy a coat for not freezing to death.

I started walking. Where? It no longer mattered. I did not know what to do. I was in a city where few people understood me and my hopes were beginning to run out. I saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance, so tall and dignified, as if it was laughing at me.

After nearly 40 minutes I arrived at a street that looked familiar. I realized that it was one of the first places I visited, the place where the headquarters of Chaerin's clothing brand was. I saw the building appearing around the corner and headed towards it. I looked inside and saw the secretary who practically threw me out of there the first day. She was alone doing something on the computer. She answered the phone. After hanging up she got up and left. She left?

I moved a little closer and looked around. There was no one. I looked at the ceiling and saw a pair of cameras at the entrance and reception desk. It was my chance. I covered my face with the hood of my coat and put my head down to avoid being seen by the cameras. I walked determined and snuck behind the counter, sat in the chair and looked at the computer screen. It was in French. My hopes in a well...

I saw what looked like a magnifying glass that there are those search engines and a bar to write. I had nothing to lose. I wrote "Chaerin Lee" and hit enter. A folder appeared. I opened it and found more folders, each one with a year as title: 2015, 2014, 2013... apparently she had been working as a designer for the company since 2009. At the end of it I saw a PDF file with the title "fichier". I opened it.

"Bingo!" I said louder than I should. All data about her appeared before my eyes. Quickly I looked for her adress, I took my phone from my pocket and took a picture of the screen. The adrenaline was racing through my veins. Without waiting any longer I ran out of there, forgetting to close the search.

"Merci" I told the taxi driver just before leaving the car. After 3 days in Paris that word and 'S'il vous plâit' were the only ones I learned.

Before me was a small two-story house. Stone and well maintained traditional French style but you could tell it was relatively new. To get to the door I had to climb some steps. It had no garden. No wonder I didn't find any clue about her in areas where wealthy people lived, this neighbourhood was very normal, not for ordinary people, but any upper middle class person could afford a home here.

I climbed the steps. One by one. Slowly... What if it was not this house? Oh my god Dara, obviously this is the one, they wouldn't have misinformation in the place where she works. My hands were sweating again, but actually I think they never stopped sweating since I came to Paris. I climbed the last step. I was at her door. I lifted my arm to knock on the door but I stopped. My heart was beating a mile a minute. What would be her reaction? Good? Bad?

I shook my head and took a deep breath. It was better to stop thinking and find it out firsthand. I took courage and knocked. I waited a few seconds. No one answered. I knocked again. Nothing... What if she was not at home? I knocked one last time...

Just as I was about to turn around to leave, the door opened. Tousled hair and smudged makeup. She did not look good, it seemed that she had just come from a party... Perhaps she had.

"You!" She shouted frowning. I smiled and opened my mouth to say something but the sound of a slamming door interrupted me. She had closed the door in my face! I was not expecting that reaction...

"Chaerin! Chaerin open the door!" I yelled hitting it "Chaerin! Please open!" No answer "Stop acting like a child and open the door, please!" Again nothing "Chaerin! I won't move from here until you come out. Do you hear me?! I didn't come from the other end of this ing planet for you to slam the door in my face!!" I yelled, this time with an obvious tone of anger in my voice, though more than angry I was saddened by how she reacted. I knew she would be surprised to see me here, but what I did not know was that she would be able to ignore and reject me as she was doing.

I turned around and looked down the street. In front of her house there was a bench under a tree. I glanced skyward, increasingly black. It wouldn't be long before it started to rain.

I went downstairs and sat down to wait. When I said that I would not move from there I was totally serious.

My eyes struggled to close but I could not fall asleep, it was too cold and I had seen in a film that it is very easy to die if you sleep while you're frozen. My teeth were shivering and I barely felt my fingers and toes. How long did I have been there? I don't know, but several hours passed since it became dark. I could take the phone and look at the hour, but my fingers were so numb that I know it would end up falling to the floor.

A drop fell in front of me. Then another. And another. It started raining. I snuggled in the bench, putting up the legs to put my hands between them and I became a little ball. The rain was getting stronger. The coat I had bought was good against the cold, but it was not waterproof. In a few minutes the water permeated the fabric of my clothes, and from my clothes to my skin. It was cold, really cold... I tried to stop my lips from trembling but it was impossible. I should leave and look for a warm place, or rather, should go to the hotel to take a hot shower, but I would not move, I did not want to do it and... I think I couldn't either.

I no longer felt neither my hands and my feet. I was soaking wet, as if I had gotten into the sea with clothes on, t