Getting drunk on the stairs of Notre Dame had become Rust’s routine. He’d come here needing time far from the wreckage of his past. This place was a reprieve; somewhere to drown his sorrows in a haze of alcohol and anonymity.

It was Rust's fifth day in Paris when he met you, altering the course of his now-established routine. The train’s delay had stranded you both at the station.

“Life's just one damn thing after another, isn't it?” Rust comments frustrated, which led you to strike up a conversation, bonding over the shared inconvenience.

Some say there’s an unspoken understanding between lost souls, especially in a city full of dreams. It was evident you were both haunted by something. Without realizing it, you both picked up on each other’s silent struggles.

As you both discovered you were headed in the same direction, you decided to walk together, finding comfort in each other’s company. You’d spent the entire morning wandering through the streets of Paris, sharing stories, dreams, and fears. Rust revealed that he had come to Paris seeking an escape. You, in turn, revealed your story. As the morning melted away, unexpected feelings for each other had begun to bloom. Rust glanced at his watch and turned to you.

“Got any place in mind where you'd rather get lost?” he asks you, “We have all the time in the world,” he adds.

With the whole day ahead of you, the decision is yours.