[nick / name]: Brandon
[personal LJ name]:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wayitcomes
[other characters currently played]: Xander Harris :: Buffy the Vampire Slayer ::perspectiveguy; Martha Rogers :: Castle :: setshimup; Seth Cohen :: The O.C. :: childofsocal
[e-mail]: such.a.heart@gmail.com
[AIM / messenger]: neveronceperfect
[series]: The O.C.
[character]: Taylor Townsend
[character history / background]: HERE
[character abilities]:
Taylor is a Polyglot. She’s shown speaking fluent French, Spanish, Latin and Japanese.
She’s extremely intelligent. She was valedictorian in her high school class. She’s well-researched and because of her extreme sleep schedule she reads often.
She is very organized. She organizes convoluted plans that hardly ever work out but she does.
She’s a fantastic stalker. This will be covered below as well.
She has an innate ability to read people. She can tell what someone is thinking before they say it and usually she’ll voice it.
[character personality]:
Taylor herself says she is who she is because of her mother. She describes Veronica Townsend as a she-wolf who practices emotional terrorism. Her mother never has a kind word to say to her. She cuts her down emotionally and constantly brings up things like Taylor’s weight. Taylor’s father is absent. He was a sex therapist at one time and then opened a car dealership. He lives in San Francisco with his other family and Taylor never sees him. Her parents have had quite the effect on her.
After throwing away the notion that she likes Ryan because he did something nice for her and showed her attention, (and failing at therapy) he has become one of the most important people in her life. She loves Ryan body and soul and she likes using his body like a jungle gym. Ryan balances out her extreme quirkiness. He grounds her and he accepts who she is. Which is all she ever wanted. But, she is a realist and while she wishes that they will work out in the end she knows life happens.
Taylor Townsend wants to be loved. Everything she does is motivated by that. Any of her manipulations, ideas, words she says, actions – everything boils down to that. She’ll forever be search of that true love and unconditional love and support from her peers.
When a man is nice to Taylor, when he pays her any mind at all something clicks in her mind and she becomes infatuated with him. While at the Sorbonne in France, a man, Henri-Michele, bought her a subway ticket and she ended up marrying him. Seth is nice to her in season 3 and she needs to get him, then. She even tries to drive a wedge between Seth and Summer. Finally, Ryan saves her from said French husband and she develops a crush on him. She says so herself: she calls it a psychological predilection. In essence, it will always be a part of her but she’s getting over that or, she’s trying to. Because she truly believes she’s worth being chased. She just has to settle down.
She’s spent every birthday before the one on screen alone and watching Sixteen Candles. Inside, she’s very lonely. And she wants not to be. Ryan, Summer, and Seth are her family. Sandy and Kirsten are her family. Even Julie Cooper is her family. Heck, even Kaitlin is. And after her canon point here, she begins to heal her relationship with her mother.
While Seth is manipulative for his own machinations, Taylor always means well. Her plans and manipulations are because she wants to help others. She fixes people if she can and by doing that she can take focus away from herself. It’s one way she avoids her problems. But, despite the avoiding, she knows herself well. She is very self-aware. She takes good care of herself. She’s shown post-exercise in the morning. She drinks smoothies. She’s very practical.
Taylor pays attention to details. She even remembers and kept track of when Summer’s last period had been. She is very observant, sometimes overly so. She has the tendency to say what someone is thinking before they say it. She’s insightful and wise for her age.
She overreacts easily. As enthusiastic as she can be when happy, she’s equally enthusiastic when angry. She perceives that people see her a certain way: that she’s pathetic or obsessive or tries too hard and this usually results in verbal vomit. Okay, anything she says is usually a verbal vomit martini but it comes with a tiny umbrella?
Taylor only sleeps for four hours a night because sleeping any more than that would be unproductive.
She talks to herself to psych herself up when she’s nervous. She faints at the sight of blood. As intellectual as she is, she also has quite the affinity for anime.
Taylor has a stalking problem. Seriously. She stalks her boyfriends. It’s harmless, really. She keeps track of where they are and when. She saves souvenirs. She’s even seen hanging out, watching Ryan at work. It’s just another one of her quirks.
Taylor is a perfectionist. A procrastinator she isn’t. She’ll work on things in her spare time, late at night/early in the morning. She has a thing where she doesn’t sleep more than four hours a night. It’s unproductive.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: During the next to last episode, “The Shake-Up”, Ryan is holding Taylor during the Earthquake and the bureau comes down on them.
[journal post]:
[Here screams a girl. She’s in a semi-fetal position, arms around nothing. The first thing she notices is that nothing has hit her – the second is that nobody is protecting her.]
Ryan?
[She opens her eyes. Maybe you see this woman going crazy in front of you or maybe you’re witnessing it on the network. She feels down her body before sitting up.]
I’m in another coma. Great. Except – no Ryan. So, is this alt-world the sequel? Is this like some Sci-Fi movie? Different futures each time? I really need to stop getting hurt because I can’t fix any more alt-worlds. I'm taking a stand right now. No more comas.
[She stamps and crosses her arms.]
...Ryan? Ryan?
[She takes a few steps forward, kicking her device.]
Oh. [Well, that needs to be picked up.] So much more handy then the trip to first alt-world. Although, it was a little more kismet-y with the, we’ll just find each other. Not hating the addition of technology. Convenient.
[At first she holds it like a telephone.]
Ryan? Ryan?
[And because she’s Taylor, she’s a device expert in seconds. Well, after pulling it from her ear.]
Video chat. Pretty nifty. You get a few more points. [She blinks into the screen.] Hello? Ryan? Can you hear me? Earth to Ryan. [A beat.] Maybe Ryan’s not in this one. Great. I’m alone – near a fountain. And I’m talking to myself in public out loud. That’s not embarrassing at all, Taylor. Okay, calm down. This isn’t that bad. You just have to – right something that’s wrong – or find your mom!
I’m sure in this reality I’m a hermaphrodite.
One thing at a time. [She brings the device up to her face again.] If anybody out there can help me, my name is Taylor Townsend. I’m looking for either a Veronica Townsend or Ryan Atwood – [to herself] maybe a bathroom. Alt world part une was so much better.
[third person / log sample]:
"He got me a dictionary."
Pancakes wasn’t the most attentive listener but he didn’t interrupt her and Summer was out with Seth. Plus, Ryan was probably out denying his feelings for another girl and she didn’t need the drama in her life. So, she paced in front of Pancakes’ cage.
"And I didn’t even get to blow out my candles!" She paused, cocking her head. "Well, that was my decision but I couldn’t stand there and make a wish that couldn’t possibly come true. I have to admit it to myself. Taylor, you put your faith in the wrong man."
She shook her head at that before addressing Pancakes directly.
"It’s all Berkeley’s fault." She wouldn’t describe herself as fuming but Pancakes gave her this knowing look that conveyed, ‘Get over it, woman. Go to him. Slap him upside that white head’a his.’ Taylor didn’t know why Pancakes was black in her head and at this moment, she glossed over the choice of voice. "Don’t give me that look!" And now she was yelling at him. Damn it. She was cracked. "You don’t get it! Ryan was, he was like my Sandy and Kirsten. Love works out. Love happens. Love…actually. Love not actually is more like it."
She sunk down onto Summer’s bed.
"And the worst part is, if I hadn’t have mentioned Berkeley at all. If I had just kept my drunk trap shut-"
And then it occurred to her. She sat up with a start. "Ryan couldn’t have bought me a dictionary for my birthday. Ryan Atwood may be a lot of things but he isn’t unintelligent. He knows what a woman wants." She nodded then as her gaze landed on the bunny rabbit before her. "Not that I’ll go into R-rated commentary in front of you. Besides, if you were really interested I could just give you the web address to my blog."
She chuckled to herself, then.
"So, that’s how it ends? We get through French husband’s and his freak-outs and slutty aliens and French husbands again and his father but – we’re done over this?" She locked eyes with the bunny. His black man jargon was replaced with that of a soothing older woman much like her mother might’ve been in an alternate universe…an alternate universe to the alternate universe, anyway. She couldn’t not take him out of his cage and hold him. Besides, it gave her an excuse to continue to speak out loud. His fur felt soft in her hands.
"You know, Pancakes, I really thought that maybe I had found the one. I had found my raison d’etre. The one for me. But, Atwood men suck at expressing feelings and I’m all tapped out of crazy schemes. At least tonight I am. I should just go to sleep."
She pet him a few more times before setting the bunny back in his cage. She didn’t make sure the door was locked, however, as she wandered back into her room and fell face first on the bed.
"Taylor Townsend. Spinster. That has a nice ring to it." Her voice was muffled against the bedspread.
Ryan arriving didn’t surprise her. His real gift for her did. After working it out she felt as if she could take on the world, as if their relationship could stand the test of time. They were Buffy and Angel – pre end of Season 2 – pre middle of Season 2 – AU Season 3 in that one fanfic she read that one time because the slash directory was being updated – they were meant to be. Kissing him felt right and good and it filled a hole in her heart that would probably always be there. But, he lessened that. She breathed easier when around him, when checking her texts from him, and yes, when stalking him but she was trying to curb that.
At first, she thought of the song.
I feel the Earth move under my feet. I feel the sky tumbling down.
Maybe, real love, real kisses stemming from pure passion literally felt like this. Or, maybe they were having an earthquake.
Immediately, Ryan took point and they were on the ground with him around her. He was protecting her. He loved her and they would go to Berkeley and adopt children because deep down she knew Ryan would want to do that and they would be happy.
And then the bureau came down on all of her plans.
I feel the earth move under my feet
I feel the sky tumbling down,
Tumbling down, tumbling down...
[second third-person sample]
“That’s all right. Just walk right past the girl crouching down in the middle of the subway,” Taylor muttered, fishing through her purse. “Juste, une seconde, sil vous plait.” She held her finger up to illustrate that une seconde to the teller. “I know I had a few more Euros in here, somewhere. Just, go ahead of me,” she said to the people waiting behind her. It was only polite.
Taylor Townsend didn’t do this. This was why she was organized and triple-checked things. The attractive neighbor that caught her eye was not a good enough excuse to not check her purse. Her day would be ruined. She knew it. If one thing went wrong and everything else followed. Her Dad cheated, he left. Her Mom was a cold, pushy, emotional terrorist and worsened over time. Finally, she had her own idea, away from that house, her mother. France. She loved the language. And her mother never checked in. She got to be her own, independent woman.
Who left Euros in her apartment.
“Excusez-moi,” she heard from behind her. Taylor shifted to give more room to the man but he didn’t move past her. “You are American?”
“Oui. Je m’appelle Taylor.”
“Ah, Taylor. You, eh, need a ticket?”
“Oh, yes, but you don’t have to-”
“It would be my, how you say, pleasure.”
Taylor slowly stood up then. He was tall and under the subway lights, he was dashing. And then she remembered her manners and offered her hand.
“Oh, je parle francaise.”
“Ah. Puis, bienvenue vers Paris, Taylor d'Amérique.”
And then he kissed that hand and bought her a subway pass.
His name was Henri-Michel. He was a writer who hardly bathed. At first this bothered Taylor. It was called a shower, and people took them daily. But, his accent and his chivalry swept that under the rug and it swept Taylor off her feet. He was everything Newport wasn’t. He was cultured, nice, loving, incredibly passionate…
Korean pop stars aside, Henri-Michele was the best lover she had ever had. Dean Hess was selfish. And pushy. Oh God, Dean Hess was her mother. She knew she had heard about girls choosing men like their fathers but this was much worse. Besides, the fun of that was his dominance and the flagrant disregard of rules. A step on the wild side.
With handcuffs.
Those handcuffs proved more metaphorical then she first thought. But, Henri-Michele wasn’t a pair of handcuffs. He was a French cape, just waiting to help her fly away. She decided in Paris that she was never going back to Newport. Sure, she kept in touch with Summer – when Summer got back to her – but mostly, she had her version of tunnel vision.
Paris vision.
The freedom and acceptance she had been striving for had been achieved and it had all began with a bus ticket.
The day Taylor knew Henri-Michele had fallen in love with her, had really loved her was the day he wrote her a poem. It was this epic, multi-stanza poem in French.
Henri-Michele asked her to marry her at his parents’. One list of pros and cons later and there didn’t seem to be a better choice.
Marrying him seemed like a dream come true. Taylor Townsend had walked out of a Grimm’s Fairytale into a dirtier Disney version of a fairytale and she was going to live happily ever after. He was traditional. He insisted she take a baking class and she relented. She wanted to be a good wife. She wanted to be loved. Being a good wife equaled love. Or so she thought. The only thing she was good at were torts. She kicked ass at torts. And Henri-Michele loved them. And he loved her.
The day Henri-Michele read his poem in public and he dedicated it to Taylor, she knew she didn’t love him. She didn’t love him like he loved her. Sure, she loved how he made her feel. At night she loved how he made her feel. God, that … couldn’t get any better. She loved the poems and the French and his cooking. God, the man could cook. There was a time that Taylor Townsend felt entitled. Her overly-critical mother hadn’t helped anything. Taylor got everything she went after. She got social chair. She got valedictorian. But, Seth Cohen and Summer Roberts helped show her that there was more to life then achieving something especially when she didn’t know what she wanted to achieve. And there it was. What did she want in life? Did she want to be someone’s wife in a small town in France perfecting her baking skills? She loved him. But it wasn’t an epic love. It wasn’t the stuff of legend. It was – Taylor latching on to the first guy who showed any interest in her whatsoever.
It was a train ticket marriage.
Somehow, along her journey of self discovery she made a wrong turn and married a Frenchman who needed to discover soap and shampoo. He needed to lather, rinse, and boy did he need to repeat.
Henri-Michele wasn’t the one for her.
For the first time, she acknowledged that she didn’t know what was for her. She loved languages. And she loved helping people. She had aided Seth and Summer through troubled times and they were back together.
In a way, she was like Marissa. She didn’t know what she wanted. At one time, she wanted what her mother wanted. Her mother snapped her Beelzebub whip and she jumped. Finally, she did something for Taylor. And she screwed up.
She hated screwing up. Hated it. She dug up the pro and con list she had made and couldn’t help but mentally berate herself for making this big of a decision so early in her life. Taylor did things because of other people. Her mother. Dean Hess. Henri-Michele. Taylor needed to once again take the reins and she promised herself that one day she would find real love.
And if she didn’t, she promised herself she wouldn’t regret her decision to leave her French fairytale.
[personal LJ name]:
wayitcomes[other characters currently played]: Xander Harris :: Buffy the Vampire Slayer ::
perspectiveguy; Martha Rogers :: Castle :: setshimup; Seth Cohen :: The O.C. :: childofsocal[e-mail]: such.a.heart@gmail.com
[AIM / messenger]: neveronceperfect
[series]: The O.C.
[character]: Taylor Townsend
[character history / background]: HERE
[character abilities]:
Taylor is a Polyglot. She’s shown speaking fluent French, Spanish, Latin and Japanese.
She’s extremely intelligent. She was valedictorian in her high school class. She’s well-researched and because of her extreme sleep schedule she reads often.
She is very organized. She organizes convoluted plans that hardly ever work out but she does.
She’s a fantastic stalker. This will be covered below as well.
She has an innate ability to read people. She can tell what someone is thinking before they say it and usually she’ll voice it.
[character personality]:
Taylor herself says she is who she is because of her mother. She describes Veronica Townsend as a she-wolf who practices emotional terrorism. Her mother never has a kind word to say to her. She cuts her down emotionally and constantly brings up things like Taylor’s weight. Taylor’s father is absent. He was a sex therapist at one time and then opened a car dealership. He lives in San Francisco with his other family and Taylor never sees him. Her parents have had quite the effect on her.
After throwing away the notion that she likes Ryan because he did something nice for her and showed her attention, (and failing at therapy) he has become one of the most important people in her life. She loves Ryan body and soul and she likes using his body like a jungle gym. Ryan balances out her extreme quirkiness. He grounds her and he accepts who she is. Which is all she ever wanted. But, she is a realist and while she wishes that they will work out in the end she knows life happens.
Taylor Townsend wants to be loved. Everything she does is motivated by that. Any of her manipulations, ideas, words she says, actions – everything boils down to that. She’ll forever be search of that true love and unconditional love and support from her peers.
When a man is nice to Taylor, when he pays her any mind at all something clicks in her mind and she becomes infatuated with him. While at the Sorbonne in France, a man, Henri-Michele, bought her a subway ticket and she ended up marrying him. Seth is nice to her in season 3 and she needs to get him, then. She even tries to drive a wedge between Seth and Summer. Finally, Ryan saves her from said French husband and she develops a crush on him. She says so herself: she calls it a psychological predilection. In essence, it will always be a part of her but she’s getting over that or, she’s trying to. Because she truly believes she’s worth being chased. She just has to settle down.
She’s spent every birthday before the one on screen alone and watching Sixteen Candles. Inside, she’s very lonely. And she wants not to be. Ryan, Summer, and Seth are her family. Sandy and Kirsten are her family. Even Julie Cooper is her family. Heck, even Kaitlin is. And after her canon point here, she begins to heal her relationship with her mother.
While Seth is manipulative for his own machinations, Taylor always means well. Her plans and manipulations are because she wants to help others. She fixes people if she can and by doing that she can take focus away from herself. It’s one way she avoids her problems. But, despite the avoiding, she knows herself well. She is very self-aware. She takes good care of herself. She’s shown post-exercise in the morning. She drinks smoothies. She’s very practical.
Taylor pays attention to details. She even remembers and kept track of when Summer’s last period had been. She is very observant, sometimes overly so. She has the tendency to say what someone is thinking before they say it. She’s insightful and wise for her age.
She overreacts easily. As enthusiastic as she can be when happy, she’s equally enthusiastic when angry. She perceives that people see her a certain way: that she’s pathetic or obsessive or tries too hard and this usually results in verbal vomit. Okay, anything she says is usually a verbal vomit martini but it comes with a tiny umbrella?
Taylor only sleeps for four hours a night because sleeping any more than that would be unproductive.
She talks to herself to psych herself up when she’s nervous. She faints at the sight of blood. As intellectual as she is, she also has quite the affinity for anime.
Taylor has a stalking problem. Seriously. She stalks her boyfriends. It’s harmless, really. She keeps track of where they are and when. She saves souvenirs. She’s even seen hanging out, watching Ryan at work. It’s just another one of her quirks.
Taylor is a perfectionist. A procrastinator she isn’t. She’ll work on things in her spare time, late at night/early in the morning. She has a thing where she doesn’t sleep more than four hours a night. It’s unproductive.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: During the next to last episode, “The Shake-Up”, Ryan is holding Taylor during the Earthquake and the bureau comes down on them.
[journal post]:
[Here screams a girl. She’s in a semi-fetal position, arms around nothing. The first thing she notices is that nothing has hit her – the second is that nobody is protecting her.]
Ryan?
[She opens her eyes. Maybe you see this woman going crazy in front of you or maybe you’re witnessing it on the network. She feels down her body before sitting up.]
I’m in another coma. Great. Except – no Ryan. So, is this alt-world the sequel? Is this like some Sci-Fi movie? Different futures each time? I really need to stop getting hurt because I can’t fix any more alt-worlds. I'm taking a stand right now. No more comas.
[She stamps and crosses her arms.]
...Ryan? Ryan?
[She takes a few steps forward, kicking her device.]
Oh. [Well, that needs to be picked up.] So much more handy then the trip to first alt-world. Although, it was a little more kismet-y with the, we’ll just find each other. Not hating the addition of technology. Convenient.
[At first she holds it like a telephone.]
Ryan? Ryan?
[And because she’s Taylor, she’s a device expert in seconds. Well, after pulling it from her ear.]
Video chat. Pretty nifty. You get a few more points. [She blinks into the screen.] Hello? Ryan? Can you hear me? Earth to Ryan. [A beat.] Maybe Ryan’s not in this one. Great. I’m alone – near a fountain. And I’m talking to myself in public out loud. That’s not embarrassing at all, Taylor. Okay, calm down. This isn’t that bad. You just have to – right something that’s wrong – or find your mom!
I’m sure in this reality I’m a hermaphrodite.
One thing at a time. [She brings the device up to her face again.] If anybody out there can help me, my name is Taylor Townsend. I’m looking for either a Veronica Townsend or Ryan Atwood – [to herself] maybe a bathroom. Alt world part une was so much better.
[third person / log sample]:
"He got me a dictionary."
Pancakes wasn’t the most attentive listener but he didn’t interrupt her and Summer was out with Seth. Plus, Ryan was probably out denying his feelings for another girl and she didn’t need the drama in her life. So, she paced in front of Pancakes’ cage.
"And I didn’t even get to blow out my candles!" She paused, cocking her head. "Well, that was my decision but I couldn’t stand there and make a wish that couldn’t possibly come true. I have to admit it to myself. Taylor, you put your faith in the wrong man."
She shook her head at that before addressing Pancakes directly.
"It’s all Berkeley’s fault." She wouldn’t describe herself as fuming but Pancakes gave her this knowing look that conveyed, ‘Get over it, woman. Go to him. Slap him upside that white head’a his.’ Taylor didn’t know why Pancakes was black in her head and at this moment, she glossed over the choice of voice. "Don’t give me that look!" And now she was yelling at him. Damn it. She was cracked. "You don’t get it! Ryan was, he was like my Sandy and Kirsten. Love works out. Love happens. Love…actually. Love not actually is more like it."
She sunk down onto Summer’s bed.
"And the worst part is, if I hadn’t have mentioned Berkeley at all. If I had just kept my drunk trap shut-"
And then it occurred to her. She sat up with a start. "Ryan couldn’t have bought me a dictionary for my birthday. Ryan Atwood may be a lot of things but he isn’t unintelligent. He knows what a woman wants." She nodded then as her gaze landed on the bunny rabbit before her. "Not that I’ll go into R-rated commentary in front of you. Besides, if you were really interested I could just give you the web address to my blog."
She chuckled to herself, then.
"So, that’s how it ends? We get through French husband’s and his freak-outs and slutty aliens and French husbands again and his father but – we’re done over this?" She locked eyes with the bunny. His black man jargon was replaced with that of a soothing older woman much like her mother might’ve been in an alternate universe…an alternate universe to the alternate universe, anyway. She couldn’t not take him out of his cage and hold him. Besides, it gave her an excuse to continue to speak out loud. His fur felt soft in her hands.
"You know, Pancakes, I really thought that maybe I had found the one. I had found my raison d’etre. The one for me. But, Atwood men suck at expressing feelings and I’m all tapped out of crazy schemes. At least tonight I am. I should just go to sleep."
She pet him a few more times before setting the bunny back in his cage. She didn’t make sure the door was locked, however, as she wandered back into her room and fell face first on the bed.
"Taylor Townsend. Spinster. That has a nice ring to it." Her voice was muffled against the bedspread.
Ryan arriving didn’t surprise her. His real gift for her did. After working it out she felt as if she could take on the world, as if their relationship could stand the test of time. They were Buffy and Angel – pre end of Season 2 – pre middle of Season 2 – AU Season 3 in that one fanfic she read that one time because the slash directory was being updated – they were meant to be. Kissing him felt right and good and it filled a hole in her heart that would probably always be there. But, he lessened that. She breathed easier when around him, when checking her texts from him, and yes, when stalking him but she was trying to curb that.
At first, she thought of the song.
I feel the Earth move under my feet. I feel the sky tumbling down.
Maybe, real love, real kisses stemming from pure passion literally felt like this. Or, maybe they were having an earthquake.
Immediately, Ryan took point and they were on the ground with him around her. He was protecting her. He loved her and they would go to Berkeley and adopt children because deep down she knew Ryan would want to do that and they would be happy.
And then the bureau came down on all of her plans.
I feel the earth move under my feet
I feel the sky tumbling down,
Tumbling down, tumbling down...
[second third-person sample]
“That’s all right. Just walk right past the girl crouching down in the middle of the subway,” Taylor muttered, fishing through her purse. “Juste, une seconde, sil vous plait.” She held her finger up to illustrate that une seconde to the teller. “I know I had a few more Euros in here, somewhere. Just, go ahead of me,” she said to the people waiting behind her. It was only polite.
Taylor Townsend didn’t do this. This was why she was organized and triple-checked things. The attractive neighbor that caught her eye was not a good enough excuse to not check her purse. Her day would be ruined. She knew it. If one thing went wrong and everything else followed. Her Dad cheated, he left. Her Mom was a cold, pushy, emotional terrorist and worsened over time. Finally, she had her own idea, away from that house, her mother. France. She loved the language. And her mother never checked in. She got to be her own, independent woman.
Who left Euros in her apartment.
“Excusez-moi,” she heard from behind her. Taylor shifted to give more room to the man but he didn’t move past her. “You are American?”
“Oui. Je m’appelle Taylor.”
“Ah, Taylor. You, eh, need a ticket?”
“Oh, yes, but you don’t have to-”
“It would be my, how you say, pleasure.”
Taylor slowly stood up then. He was tall and under the subway lights, he was dashing. And then she remembered her manners and offered her hand.
“Oh, je parle francaise.”
“Ah. Puis, bienvenue vers Paris, Taylor d'Amérique.”
And then he kissed that hand and bought her a subway pass.
His name was Henri-Michel. He was a writer who hardly bathed. At first this bothered Taylor. It was called a shower, and people took them daily. But, his accent and his chivalry swept that under the rug and it swept Taylor off her feet. He was everything Newport wasn’t. He was cultured, nice, loving, incredibly passionate…
Korean pop stars aside, Henri-Michele was the best lover she had ever had. Dean Hess was selfish. And pushy. Oh God, Dean Hess was her mother. She knew she had heard about girls choosing men like their fathers but this was much worse. Besides, the fun of that was his dominance and the flagrant disregard of rules. A step on the wild side.
With handcuffs.
Those handcuffs proved more metaphorical then she first thought. But, Henri-Michele wasn’t a pair of handcuffs. He was a French cape, just waiting to help her fly away. She decided in Paris that she was never going back to Newport. Sure, she kept in touch with Summer – when Summer got back to her – but mostly, she had her version of tunnel vision.
Paris vision.
The freedom and acceptance she had been striving for had been achieved and it had all began with a bus ticket.
The day Taylor knew Henri-Michele had fallen in love with her, had really loved her was the day he wrote her a poem. It was this epic, multi-stanza poem in French.
Henri-Michele asked her to marry her at his parents’. One list of pros and cons later and there didn’t seem to be a better choice.
Marrying him seemed like a dream come true. Taylor Townsend had walked out of a Grimm’s Fairytale into a dirtier Disney version of a fairytale and she was going to live happily ever after. He was traditional. He insisted she take a baking class and she relented. She wanted to be a good wife. She wanted to be loved. Being a good wife equaled love. Or so she thought. The only thing she was good at were torts. She kicked ass at torts. And Henri-Michele loved them. And he loved her.
The day Henri-Michele read his poem in public and he dedicated it to Taylor, she knew she didn’t love him. She didn’t love him like he loved her. Sure, she loved how he made her feel. At night she loved how he made her feel. God, that … couldn’t get any better. She loved the poems and the French and his cooking. God, the man could cook. There was a time that Taylor Townsend felt entitled. Her overly-critical mother hadn’t helped anything. Taylor got everything she went after. She got social chair. She got valedictorian. But, Seth Cohen and Summer Roberts helped show her that there was more to life then achieving something especially when she didn’t know what she wanted to achieve. And there it was. What did she want in life? Did she want to be someone’s wife in a small town in France perfecting her baking skills? She loved him. But it wasn’t an epic love. It wasn’t the stuff of legend. It was – Taylor latching on to the first guy who showed any interest in her whatsoever.
It was a train ticket marriage.
Somehow, along her journey of self discovery she made a wrong turn and married a Frenchman who needed to discover soap and shampoo. He needed to lather, rinse, and boy did he need to repeat.
Henri-Michele wasn’t the one for her.
For the first time, she acknowledged that she didn’t know what was for her. She loved languages. And she loved helping people. She had aided Seth and Summer through troubled times and they were back together.
In a way, she was like Marissa. She didn’t know what she wanted. At one time, she wanted what her mother wanted. Her mother snapped her Beelzebub whip and she jumped. Finally, she did something for Taylor. And she screwed up.
She hated screwing up. Hated it. She dug up the pro and con list she had made and couldn’t help but mentally berate herself for making this big of a decision so early in her life. Taylor did things because of other people. Her mother. Dean Hess. Henri-Michele. Taylor needed to once again take the reins and she promised herself that one day she would find real love.
And if she didn’t, she promised herself she wouldn’t regret her decision to leave her French fairytale.
