WHO: Lydia Martin & OPEN WHERE: At the base of the Eiffel Tower WHEN: 8:45pm WARNINGS: Low, mild panic attack
This wasn't right. This was so not right. Lydia had been about to fuel up her car and now she was staring up at the Eiffel Tower and there was a note that floated directly into her hands as if it were guided by magic. Leaving that aside for now, she shut her eyes and tried to will herself back to New Mexico. The smell of the gasoline fumes. The heat from the asphalt and her car. The sound of car doors slamming and Stiles coming back from the convenience store with way too many crinkly snack foods. Yup, she was at the gas station. Going to fuel up any second now...
It didn't work.
She could feel her heartbeat pick up, the edge of panic crowding into her thoughts. Taking a slow, deep breath, she opened her eyes again to try and get her bearings. Yea, this was definitely Paris. "Merde." This was definitely the wrong outfit to be wearing in Paris. At least it was a hallucination and no one would actually see her like this.
Reading through the note clutched in her hand, she scoffed to herself. Oh sure, 'the first month's rent is on me' and other ways girls get trafficked into slavery, she thought to herself before starting a second reading. It didn't have much to go on, so she supposed she was on her own for the time being. "Bonjour?" She called out haltingly to the closest passing stranger, not sure if she wanted them to be able to hear her or not.