This is a piece of autobiographical fiction. Space and time have been rearranged to suit the convenience of the book, and with the exception of public figures, any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the author’s.
This story is written as an example to anyone who wants to believe that we are more than the patriarchy deems us to be, more than our limitations, and more than our fears.
2nd March, 2020 – Paris
I’ve arrived in Paris and I’m staying in another hostel.
This one has no soul at all. It’s completely just a business meant to maximize profits and have the lowest cost possible.
Having stayed in so many hostels, you can tell. If the past few hostels I stayed at were nice boutique hotels, this hostel was a hotel meant for business travelers.
In to sleep and then Out to do your own thing .
It’s 3pm and I’m STARVING. I welcome this hunger!
After I met Lucas in Prague, I went back to Berlin to collect my suitcase
Public announcement: PLEASE DON’T BRING A SUITCASE AROUND IF YOU WANT TO BACKPACK AROUND LUGGAGE
I still had some friends to visit in Paris and England so Lucas and I agreed to meet in Spain in April.
I’m at the hostel reception and I’m checking in when another guest comes up to me. He’s tall, well dressed, and has a lovely smile. We exchange handshakes and he says, “I gotta say, this hostel is great and all, but people aren’t talking to each other man!”
I laugh and say, “Yeah I got that vibe too.”
“Look, do you want some lunch? I’m just cooking up some now and I’ve made extra.” Hostel guy asks.
Omg are you for real?? Food available when I’m starving? FO SUREEEEE
As we sit down at the table to eat, he gets up and says, “Ooooh I have a bottle of wine, lemme go grab it.”
Wine at 4pm in the afternoon? Eh! Whatever, I’m on vacay mode.
It was a great lunch. We talked about him having grown up in Paris, but moving around Europe alot to buy and sell hotels. He had never come to Singapore before but has heard alot about the Marina Bay Sands.
I tell him about my past life, how I used to work in the finance industry, then a bartender and a hostel receptionist, but I always miss out the fact that I was someone’s wife before. No one needs to know that anymore.
We talk for a few hours and learn so much about each other. I was getting excited to have a new friend in the city. He offered to show me around, show me the cool and non-touristy spots of Paris that no one else knows about.
I start getting a little tired, thanked him for the meal and start making my way up to the room.
That’s when he reached out, grabbed my wrist and pulled me back down onto my seat.
I was startled, and he knew he had crossed a line, so he apologized.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I find you so damn sexy, and I just wanted to ask if you wanted to sleep with me.”
Oh okaaaaaaaayy, they do it like in Paris huh! Direct and not at all in a charming way.
“Aw, thanks but I’m not interested. ” I said.
“But come on, you’re a sweet girl, and I’m really good in bed. I just really thought we had so much chemistry while talking, imagine what we could do in bed. Babygirl, you don’t run away from chemistry like that.”
“Dude, I said no. Leave it, okay?”
He tries again and goes on a long rampage about why we would have amazing sex together. I keep refusing and trying to leave but he doesn’t let me. He physically stands in the way of me going back to my room.
Finally, he says what he’s been wanting to say all along.
“Look, I DESERVE to have you. When I want something, I get it. And I want your ass. So i deserve to ask for it.”
By then, a few other people in the shared common space have heard his words and because I didn’t react but just stared blankly at him. The weight of his words rang loudly in the silence of the room.
“I deserve you. I deserve you. I deserve you you you you.” It seemed to echo around everyone’s minds.
This time, when I try to leave, he steps aside and lets me.