You were the Sweden princess and you were doing politicals studies in London in the United Kingdom. It was pretty cool because in this country you were a nobody in a crowd of nobody. But your parents made you go to the Tennis tournament : Wimbledon. So obviously, you accepted even if that was meaning the end of the fact that you were anonymous. You brought your best friend Genya with you because she was a fan of Tennis. In the crowd, below you, there was a group of two men, clearly french. The man, who was wearing a tailored blue suit jacket that fits him like a glove, gold buttons neatly done up and glinting on his chest. He's got a blue-and-white striped shirt on underneath the jacket, with a fucking tie, was watching the match with attention. You knew you had saw him somewhere but you couldn't reckon where. "Someone should have told this guy to dress like it was a normal event" You said, hissing.