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A party. Tegan wasn't so sure on going to another party, after her last one had ended so badly, but her life in Paris was so quiet and mundane that she felt the intense craving for some drama.

Tuesday morning began like any other. Tegan woke up, the sunlight filtering through her curtains. She stretched lazily, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Her morning routine was a comforting ritual: a quick shower, brushing her teeth, and pulling on a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt. She tied her hair back into a messy ponytail and headed to the balcony for a morning smoke.

The city was waking up around her, the sounds of traffic and distant chatter filling the air. She lit her cigarette and took a deep drag, letting the nicotine calm her nerves. Breakfast was a simple affair – a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. As she sat at the kitchen table, she couldn't help but complain to herself about having nothing to do.

Jen, her aunt, was bustling around the kitchen, getting ready for work. She paused to look at Tegan with a knowing smile. 

"Well, you have a French class this afternoon, don't you?" Jen reminded her. "I'm off to work, but if you get really bored, there's Netflix on the TV and the house is full of books, paper, and art stuff."

Tegan nodded, appreciating the suggestions but feeling a pang of something deeper when Jen mentioned the art supplies. She used to love art, back in high school when she was working on her GCSEs. Her art teacher had been a significant influence, encouraging her creativity and passion. And then there was the matter of her feelings for her teacher, feelings that had blossomed into a deep, unspoken love. But now, as she reached out to take the supplies from the desk, her hand hesitated, and she pulled back, unable to bring herself to engage with it.

"Don't forget to eat lunch, okay?" Jen said, giving Tegan a quick squeeze on the shoulder before grabbing her bag.

"Yeah, yeah, I won't forget," Tegan replied with a faint smile.

As the afternoon approached, Tegan made her way to her French class. She walked into the school, greeted by the familiar sight of students milling about and the sound of laughter echoing through the halls. At the security checkpoint, she exchanged a few words in French with the guard, feeling a small sense of accomplishment at her improving language skills.

The class itself was uneventful, a blur of verb conjugations and vocabulary drills. When it finally ended, Tegan gathered her things and headed out, her mind already drifting to what she would do next. As she exited the building, she noticed Juliette leaving a dance studio nearby, surrounded by her friends. Juliette spotted her and waved, breaking away from her group to approach Tegan.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Juliette asked with a friendly smile.

"French class," Tegan replied, trying to sound casual. "You?"

"This is my school," Juliette said with a laugh. "I just finished dance practice."

"Ah, I see. Well, see you around," Tegan said, feeling a bit awkward.

"Yeah, see you," Juliette replied, rejoining her friends.

Tegan watched Juliette as she walked away, feeling a strange mixture of admiration and longing. Juliette was effortlessly pretty, her laughter like music and her movements graceful. If this had been anyone else, Tegan might have wanted to kiss them. But in the case of Juliette Dubois, she probably just wanted to be her.

With a sigh, Tegan pulled out her phone to get directions to the metro. As she walked down the street, she couldn't help but glance back at Juliette and her friends, now sitting at a nearby café, chatting animatedly over coffee. The scene was almost poetic, like something out of a movie. Juliette was the kind of person who seemed to belong in a different world, one filled with beauty and grace. Tegan felt a pang of envy, wishing she could capture some of that magic for herself.

The metro ride home was uneventful, giving Tegan time to reflect on her day. She thought about the party invitation again, weighing her options. Part of her wanted to go and prove to herself that she could have a good time without letting past experiences hold her back. But another part of her was still scarred from the last party, fearful of facing the same humiliation.

When she got home, the apartment was quiet. Jen was still at work, and Tegan had the place to herself. She wandered into the living room and turned on the TV, flipping through channels aimlessly. Nothing seemed to hold her interest, her brain was fried from her class, and she found herself getting up and heading to the small art corner that Jen had set up for her.

The art supplies were still there, untouched. Tegan sat down at the desk and picked up a pencil, her fingers tracing the familiar contours. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, trying to tap into the creative energy that had once come so easily to her. But the block was still there, a mental wall that she couldn't seem to break through.

Frustrated, she put the pencil down and stood up, pacing the room. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Juliette, to the effortless way she seemed to navigate the world. Tegan wondered what it would be like to have that kind of confidence, to be able to walk through life without a care in the world.

Juliette was more than just pretty; she was radiant. Her laughter was like a melody, effortlessly charming everyone around her. Her movements were fluid, like she was always dancing, even when she was just walking. Her presence seemed to light up any room she entered, drawing people in with her warmth and charisma. Tegan admired her from afar, feeling a longing that went beyond simple attraction.

She thought back to her GCSE art class, to the days when she would lose herself in her sketches and paintings. Her art teacher had been her muse, her inspiration. The way she spoke about art, with such passion and intensity, had captivated Tegan. She had fallen in love with her teacher, though she had never dared to admit it to anyone, not even to herself. The feelings had been too intense, too overwhelming.

Now, as she stood in her apartment, those feelings of longing and admiration were trying their best to resurface, but this time they were directed at Juliette. It wasn't just that Juliette was beautiful; it was the way she moved through life, with such grace and confidence. Tegan wanted to capture that essence, to find a way to express it through her art. But every time she tried, she found herself unable to break through the mental block that held her back.