10 - Dream

I climbed the ladder, surrounded by a dark and narrow tunnel. A small spark of light illuminated it, and I followed the only source of light until I reached it.

Like every Parisian movie I binge-watched, the orange sky of twilight shone on Haussmannian architecture, ancient buildings. Hurried people passed by the street without caring about whether there were cars on the road or not. Cars roared in annoyance when the pedestrians thought they were alone.

After the execution in North Korea, the helicopter falling from the sky, and the mass killing as an employment test, I finally managed to reach the World of Above. I could finally say that I was in Paris.

I was there this time. I touched a tiny bit of the Wonderland with my fingers at last.

I stretched my hitman jacket, taking a good look at it. Here they wore street shoes too, but my outfit was too formal.

I got out of the tunnel, which appeared to be a mere drain from the Parisian perspective. Everything horrible that happened to me was so small and so far away...

I took a walk in the Parisian air, "It's so beautiful...I don't want to get out of the streets anymore..."

An old man wearing a beret came near me, "You are lost?"

My little walk must have been taken for confusion for those passing by, "Yes. I would love to go to the Palais Garnier, of the Opéra of Paris."

"Your accent isn't bad for a tourist." He pointed to a subway station, "Take line 8 and get off at Place de l'Opéra."

"Thanks." I was going to follow his directives when a thought reminded me that I forgot one detail.

I went back to the good man, "Excuse me, would they be any clothing stores around here?"

"Go to Gallerie Lafayette. All shapes and styles are there."

"Great! Thank you so much," I said before going.

I traveled by subways. This time, I could say to my future grandkids I did the craziest adventures.

I arrived at Gallerie Lafayette. It was a castle full of LED lighting, crowded by multinationals companies selling tons of clothes. I'd never see this kind of thing from where I was from. Clothes were limited to the strictly necessary, and never they would be the same type of clothes in two thousand different colors. My choice will be difficult. What the heck should I be wearing?

An ad showed a model wearing the fall/winter collection. An oversized wool sweater covered her torso while a large scarf laid around her neck and some jeans.

That was a beautiful style. I took the time to find those exact clothes inside the store, then I tried and paid them immediately.

My tuxedo and my hat laid down inside my bag, but I kept my street shoes on me.

After my little shopping, I was finally heading to the Palais Garnier. It was becoming dark already.

The regal-looking structure throned on a Paris still awake after the Sun departed. Its last rays of sunshine hit two golden statues on the top of the building. And lamps shaped like chandeliers shone like stars, replacing the setting Sun.

That was where I wanted to dance all my life. My childhood dream. A tear ran on my face.

I entered the building and met a woman at the entrance. She was sitting behind a counter, working with a computer.

"Miss, I thank you for all the work you're doing here," I said, wiping my flowing tears of joy. I had to stop my tears to fall, because I looked dumb.

She raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Thanks. How can I help you?"

I took her hands, "I want to become a prima ballerina."

"Do you mean you wish to sign in for November's auditions?" She adjusted her glasses and flipped through some pages on her notebook, "From which Academia do you belong?"

"None. My Mom taught me everything I needed to know."

Her glasses, like a rebellious toddler, slid on her nose. She put her glasses back again, "Excuse me? You don't follow any formation ?"

"She's the best teacher you could ever have, believe me. She worked hard to teach me ballet. When I was young, I was as flexible as a tree." I showed her my expertise in pointe work by putting my foot on the desk, "Have a look at that en-dehors."

She grinned, and with two long nails, she took back her little notebook beneath my shoe.

I put my foot on the administrative furniture, "If you watch me on pointe you would know that..."

"Mister, you wear pointe shoes?"

Proud of my ability to dance on my toes, I nodded.

The woman behind the desk looked like the sky fell on her. She didn't seem proud at all.

That was bad. This situation called for drastic measures. I got behind the desk, took her by the armpits, and raised her horizontally, "You must be a great dancer if you work here. And a great dancer would know that this technique is only possible for the strongest ballerinas." I raised my right leg in an arabesque position, "And I've got this much strength."

"Please, let me go." She begged.

"Sorry, Madam." I let her down.

She readjusted her pants, "I see that you are a passionate man, but men don't dance on pointe here, and without formation, I can't do anything for you."

I followed her while she took place behind her desk, "How can I join the team? I'll do anything!"

She closed her eyelids and breathed in before opening them again. She was officially pissed, "Come back with you kids in the city of Nanterre. Old guys in a tutu don't walk around here."

"Old? I just became an adult."

"Go out of here." She refused to have any sorts of interactions with me.

"Old guy...in a tutu..."

"Security! Make him get out."

Fall wind passed on my fresh hand and my calf while I considered the palace that shattered my dreams, "It's night already." I said, not being able to think anymore.

Mom, why didn't you make me a girl? Why wasn't I born in this country? Why did I have to be someone else?

I looked at my adult man's hands, "You could have become a happy person, Song-ho, but you wasted everything. Again."

As I said, It was night already. I had to look for a hotel for tonight. I could afford anything. Well, for now. When my bag will be lighter, I'd have to find a job.

Why didn't I think of something as simple as that?

And the Boss? If she finds me, I was dead.

I waited for the green pedestrian lights to walk through the street. A black car with darkened windows slowed down, as red lights ordered the vehicles t stop. The light beams made ribbon-shaped decorations on the car. When the lights became green, the car stayed unmoving in front of me, as if it was staring at me. This finished some seconds after because it accelerated. Why would a car stay in front of me after the green was light?

There was no doubt possible. It was a threat. It was them.

Mortal body damages.

With my primal instinct, I ran through the street. I ran until I forgot about the black car. I ran and I lost the notion of seconds and minutes while the sky turned blacker and blacker. While Paris became more yellow with artificial lights.

I hit someone, "No! Not you again! Leave me alone!"

"You okay kiddo?" A raspy voice talked to me, "Be more careful when you walk, and why are you saying 'Not you again'? Before you judge, come see the not-so-official opérette of Paris." She handed a few tickets.

The woman breathed in her cigarette with her thin lips and wiped off pieces of cinder fallen on her red jogging. She wasn't the monster I avoided.

"An opérette huh?" I refused the tickets of the cigarette fan, "This is not half the potential of the Opéra de Paris. I won't lower myself to see this "

Far away, the car appeared.

My hands made all way to my bag by themselves, shaking, "There are people inside? How much? A crowd?"

"Yes, tonight there are tons of people. We could lose ourselves inside. I'm feeling like this season is successful because of the cold sometimes. Not so much because of my dancers' talent."

"Perfect!" I handed over some money, "Take everything you need and keep the rest!"

She salivated in front of the banknotes as she counted them, "Thanks, thanks! It's too generous!"

I walked, no, I ran toward the building that was three times smaller than the Opéra of Paris.