Disclaimer: I do not own the character of Lane Kim, nor any character that appeared previously on the Gilmore Girls. Anna James and Daniel Laurent sprang from my own imagination, as did Olivier, Ian Carmichael and Adrienne Gilles.

21. An American in Paris

July 21st 2015, Paris, France.

Ian pushed his way through a group of Japanese tourists, happily photographing everything in sight. He caught a glance of his appearance when he passed a souvenirshop and was appalled by the sight. He needed a shower, quickly, and a shave. And maybe some requited love, too. He sighed, frustrated at himself for being unable to break free of this mess. Why should the only girl he'd ever loved be married? And, he admitted, why couldn't she love him back? He knew it wasn't going to happen anymore, that she'd been in a messed up phase in her life, not knowing what she wanted or who she wanted to be with. But ultimately, she belonged to Daniel. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him of the fact that he had helped break up a happy couple. His stubbornness laughed at the voice. Happy? She hadn't been happy.

He looked down on the paper in his hand, not even realizing that he was in Paris, the amazing Paris, the city of lights, the city of love, that he'd never been to before. Lane was on his mind. Lane, and closure. Kind of.

March 20th 2008, Chicago, Illinois, United States.

Ian rolled over and laid his head on his arm. What was he doing here? He stared at the sleeping blonde next to him, taking in her features and not feeling even slightly moved by them. A certain short, Korean girl still occupied his mind. He tried to shake the memories off, but didn't succeed. Even Ian himself was baffled by his obsession. It'd been years ago, and still he couldn't help but compare every girl to her.

The next morning he was up at dawn, taking a shower and clearing his head. Taryn, the girl in his bed, would be the one, he decided. The one that would make him forget, maybe the one that he would compare his future girlfriends too. He had it all planned out.

A fever had taken over Ian's thoughts. He frantically searched his map for the street he was supposed to find Lane at, but he couldn't track it down. His eyes clouded up and a drum began a heavy rythm somewhere near his right ear. Desperate for some clarity, he walked into a cafe, ordering an espresso and taking a short break. The clouds evaporated and he could quietly breath again.

Lane hadn't talked to him. She just hung up, she didn't answer his letters or e-mails and he was lost. Finally he'd realized who the woman of his dreams was, and now she wouldn't give him closure. He gulped down the tiny cup of steaming liquid and decided to ask the waitress for directions. The girl smiled and pointed to the other side of the road. "You're almost there," she said in a heavy accent.

July 1st 2015, Chicago, Illinois.

Ian didn't visit his parents very often, but felt the need was high. He was shattered by his affair with Lane, all the complications had made something that could've been heaven straight into a hell-like situation. Parental guidance, or at least some comfort, was what he needed. The house looked and smelled like old times and brought back memories from the days when he couldn't wait to get out of there, life could only get easier, his naive teenage self had concluded. Ian snorted at the thought. Luckily he hadn't known his future back then.

Dinner was assuringly comfortable, his mom's potroast filled his veins with warmth and melancholy, sending him out into the night to visit the bar he used to frequent. Maybe he'd walk into someone from highschool, or maybe he'd just have a beer and relax.

He walked into someone alright. It took him a minute to process the smiling face at the other side of the bar. She looked amazing. Taryn had put on some weight, and it flattered her. He'd always thought she was too skinny to begin with, trying to keep up with modern days' trends, trends that in Ian's mind could kill people.

The drinks part had been uncomfortable, the walk in the park loaded with anticipation. The night settled the deal and made sure that Ian finally slept a solid night for the first time in months, maybe even years.

Ian rang the bell, waiting for the metallic voice coming through the rusty speaker, but nothing came. Instead, he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, tired eyes looked into his. He smiled.

"I just wanted to say goodbye. And I'm sorry."