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Tegan's heart raced as the plane descended through the blue Parisian sky . Just a few hours ago, she had been standing in the departure hall of Gatwick Airport, her parents' disappointed faces etched into her memory. The weight of her decision to drop out of college and the social fallout from that disastrous party felt like a heavy shroud around her. Now, the horizon below promised a new beginning, but the gravity of leaving England behind was sinking in with each passing second. As the wheels touched down on the tarmac of Charles de Gaulle Airport, Tegan tried to steady her nerves. She could hardly believe she was here, a world away from the trainwreck of a life that she knew. The plane taxied to the gate, and she could feel the rush of excitement mingling with the crippling fear of stepping into the unknown. After what felt like an age, she made inside the terminal and through security. 

Tegan spotted Jen almost immediately. Her aunt was easy to recognize, the spitting image of her father (only a female version), standing near the baggage claim with a sign that read "Tegan Butterworth" in elegant, handwritten script. Jen's welcoming smile was like a warmer version of her dad's, like a lighthouse guiding Tegan through the fog of her thoughts. She looked a lot like Tegan remembered - her warm brown eyes, round glasses, the slight hint of red in her dark brown hair, and a comforting presence that contrasted sharply with the chaos of her recent life - something very much appreciated.

"Welcome to Paris, Tegan!" Jen's voice was cheerful, and she enveloped Tegan in a hug that felt both firm and reassuring. "How was your flight?"

"It was okay," Tegan replied, her voice tinged with both fatigue and the beginnings of relief. "A bit long, though." It might have been just over an hour long, but Tegan had never been a fan of flying. She'd thought that a flight that she had chosen to take in order to escape the shitshow of her life would be better, but alas. Jen took Tegan's suitcase from her, and they made their way to the exit. The bustling energy of the airport was a stark contrast to the calm, dull, somewhat brisk nature that she had known back home. The noise, the chatter in French, and the scent of coffee from a nearby café all felt foreign, somehow wrong and right all in the same moment. As they walked to get a taxi to the metro, Jen chatted almost non-stop about the city, trying to ease Tegan's transition and possibly her own nerves. 

"I hope you're ready for a bit of a whirlwind. Paris can be quite overwhelming, but it's also magical. You never know what you will get from this city. We'll take the metro to the flat. It's just easier with the traffic and all." The taxi ride to the metro station was short, but Tegan was already absorbing the sights of Paris, her heart in her mouth, her breathing almost shallow. The architecture, the unfamiliar street signs, and the different rhythm of the city were all part of the new world she was stepping into. It was starting to feel a bit too real.

When they finally reached Jen's flat in the 12th arrondissement, the apartment building stood in quiet contrast to the vibrant life of the city. It was a modest, charming place with ivy crawling up the walls and a small garden at the entrance. Jen led the way up the narrow staircase, her movements graceful and practiced. Tegan followed, puffing hard as she hauled her giant case up the stairs. Inside the flat, Jen gave Tegan a brief tour. The living room was cozy, with large windows that allowed natural light to flood the space. The furniture was a mix of contemporary and vintage, giving the apartment a lived-in yet stylish feel - very different to her own home that was fully decked out with IKEA flatpack furniture. Tegan noticed a few personal touches: framed photographs of her aunt and various strangers, a stack of French novels, a stack of English novels and a faint, relaxing smell of lavender.

"Here's your room," Jen said, opening the door to a small but inviting space. "We can make it a bit more you over time, but I hope that it's ok." The bed was neatly made, and a few decorative pillows added a touch of color. A desk by the window overlooked a quiet street. 

"It's lovely," Tegan said quietly, taking it all in. "Thank you for letting me stay here."Jen smiled warmly. 

"Of course. I'm happy to have you. I've set some ground rules, though, just to make things clear. They're not too strict, but I think they'll help us both adjust." Tegantensed, but nodded, appreciating the upfront clarity. 

"And they are..."

"Well," Jen began, settling onto the edge of the bed, "First, this is my flat but it is also yours now, so let's keep it tidy and respect each other's privacy. Second, your curfew is 10:30 unless we've discussed it. And third, you will be doing an hour of French classes every day so that you can settle in more." Jen patted the bed beside her, inviting Tegan to sit. "I know that this must be a massive change. We're family, and I'm here to support you." Tegan listened silently, feeling the weight of her new life settling around her. The rules seemed fair and sensible, and she was grateful for Jen's straightforward approach, but her rebellious streak was crying out inside of her. No. SHe had to stay on the straight and narrow.

"Got it," Tegan said. "I'll make sure to follow them."

"Great," Jen said, standing up. "Now, it's Friday night, and my friends, the Dubois family, have invited us for dinner. They live in the 1st arrondissement. I thought it'd be a good chance for you to meet some people and get a taste of Parisian life. Why don't you unpack and freshen up a bit? We need to leave by seven." Tegan nodded, and Jen left to prepare for the evening. Alone in the room, Tegan sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. The window was slightly open, allowing a gentle breeze to drift in. She could hear the distant sounds of Paris—laughter from a nearby café, the soft hum of conversations, and the occasional clink of glasses. It was a kind of symphony of urban life, so different from the quiet streets of her hometown, where the only noise was the bin lorry and children from the nearby school screaming. Tegan took a deep breath, trying to ground herself in the present. She glanced around at her new room. The reality of her decision hit her more forcefully than before. She was a long way from home, from the familiar rhythms of her life in England. A wave of homesickness washed over her, but she quickly shook it off. She had chosen this path for a reason. She wanted to break away from the stifling expectations and the mistakes she had made. Paris represented a fresh start, a chance to rediscover herself.

Being a long way from home wasn't necessarily a bad thing.