Marseille

John, after completing his targets in Germany, travelled to France.

John wanted to visit Paris, the City of Love. He had never been to Paris, that's why he wished to visit but due to constraints of time, he couldn't.

'Its probably not a good idea to take a pleasure trip to Paris with Michael.' John chuckled wryly as he tried to console himself.

So, he was currently taking a walk idly in the port city of Marseille, the city with the most shady reputation in the whole of France.

Marseille, the oldest city in France, was primarily famous for its unique culture and cuisine, and soaps. It was the second largest city in France after Paris. Marseille is a city that combines big city style with a fishing village sociability. It's a city that locals love and outsiders avoid because of its reputation across Europe.

As John was walking down the old port of Marseille, he felt an odd sense of calm wash over him as he kept walking idly in the crowd. As he felt the cool sea breeze brush past his skin, even in the middle of a bustling crowd, he felt at peace. He could almost smell the fragrance of the sea in the air. He felt all the ongoing chatter around him wasn't so bad.

John, watching the brilliant orange sun going down, felt relaxed. John, ever since the incident of being transmigrated to this body, never had a chance to truly unwind. There was always a thought tugging at the back of his mind that what if it was fake, what if it was just a dream and it suddenly shattered one day. But today, he found that thought disappear and John found himself anticipating what this life would bring him.

John suddenly stopped when he saw a familiar face exiting what was clearly a souvenir shop and walking towards him. It was Mary Thatcher, the reporter from the Leicester Mercury. John remembered her from his harrowing experiences at press conferences. He was thankful to her for saving him from several predicaments when facing the media.

She was walking towards him while carrying several bags. John didn't want to particularly interact with her as he was frankly nervous whenever talking to reporters. But before John could take a different route or turn back, she was just a few steps away from him and John saw recognition in her eyes.

"Hello, Mr. Baker. I almost didn't recognise you without a suit and a serious expression on your face." Mary said cheerfully as she walked towards him.

"What a coincidence! I almost didn't recognise you either because you were smiling, Ms. Thatcher." John fired back with a reluctant smile on his face.

"That was a little mean." Mary said to John, still smiling cheerfully, which meant she didn't take it to heart. Atleast John thought so.

"But true. Don't you think so?" John didn't back down, "I've never seen you smiling before today."

"That's because you don't know me very well." Mary said to John in a joyful tone.

"Mary" She said to John.

"What?" John asked her as he didn't understand what she meant.

"Just call me Mary." Mary replied to John in a casual manner.

"Then you should call me just John." John replied, finding the situation a bit more comfortable.

"Okay, just John." Mary replied while smiling.

John was surprised. They had only talked four or five times before today. How was she so comfortable talking to him, he had no idea.

"So what are you doing here in Marseille?" John asked Mary.

"Well, its a long awaited vacation for me. But more importantly, what are you doing in Marseille? Are you here for club's transfer plans?"

"Back to the job, huh. I think if you are on a vacation, you should leave your job at home." John said to Mary.

"Sorry, its just a habit." Mary said, embarassed.

"It's alright." John said to her.

"I think we shouldn't stand in the middle." Mary said to John while looking around. They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, interrupting other pedestrians.

"Yeah, well it was nice meeting you." John said while saying goodbye to her.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you too." Mary said to John.

There was a weird expression on her face, but John couldn't discern what it was. He wasn't too good at reading people's expressions but he knew it was almost as if he was supposed to say something else. But John didn't dwell on it. He had to go back to his hotel and review his plans for tomorrow.