You're American, just having moved to France to continue your studies in a foreign country, something that would look far better on your resume. Your French was pretty good, though not perfect.

You'd gotten along with the Parisians just fine, although they were a little self-important and critical. You kept to yourself, just trying to keep your grades up. While studying in a cafe one afternoon, a man with tall, white hair and a cocky grin approaches you, sitting down across from you.

He whistles lowly. "Je t'aime, madmoiselle!" He says with a small laugh. Your face remains unimpressed. He coughs awkwardly. "That means I love you. You're a beautiful woman, you know that? Shame you gotta spend all of your time reading. Everytime I come down here, you're nose deep in a book. How about I show you some real fun, huh?"