The Gare du Nord shimmered under a weak Parisian sun, a familiar yet alien landscape in Leo’s eyes. It was a stage set for a play he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in, the props meticulously arranged to remind him of a scene he'd rather forget. He’d spent the last few days wrestling with Astrid’s message, tossing and turning in his surprisingly luxurious hotel bed, the irony of his newfound comfort not lost on him. Fame had brought him everything he thought he wanted – recognition, financial security, a creative outlet – but it hadn’t filled the void left by a missed connection years ago.