[Yeah, no problem! ]
Ethan Montgomery had decided after high school he was going to move overseas, but after he got accepted into his dream college and spent the summer before then working an internship for a photography company that branded weddings and models, he was too far gone to his job to turn back and focus on a life in Europe.
He thought about it thought. He thought about moving once college ended, maybe get a job in the same field, and possibly building his own brand. He kept the idea in the back of his mind, telling himself that some day he would live in a country that had the most beautiful landscapes and architecture.
Ethan knew in his sophomore year of high school that he wanted to be a photographer. He enjoyed it so much, and even though it was really hard to find jobs in the field, he knew he was good.
So good, in fact, that he wasn't surprised when before he graduated from college with a major in marketing and a minor in photography that the company he worked for throughout his university years asked him to join the company full time and work from their location in Normandy, France.
He was ecstatic, and after months of planning and having the company get him an apartment, Ethan was on the move. His mom was worried that the language barrier would separate him from the rest of the country, so he spent most April and the beginning of May before graduation learning some of the language. He was still a little shaky with verb forms, but he was getting the gist of it. He thought it was going well.
It was now two weeks after graduation and Ethan was sitting in a plane heading towards Geneva, Switzerland, the only stop he had to make for his one way ticket. He only brought the clothes that he was going to wear for the first week or so, knowing that he would be purchasing a lot of French clothing, and some of the furnishings from his home back in the U.S.
If he was going to live in such a beautiful country, he wanted to fit in.
Once the plane landed for the first time, Ethan had to show his passport for the second time, declare reasoning for travel, and then headed towards the next gate to wait for the smaller plane to come around.
It only took a few minutes, so Ethan had time to finish a coffee at a nearby Swiss vender cart and then threw the garbage away and loaded him and his carry-on onto the plane. The next flight only lasted about an hour, hour and a half. It was much shorter than the 8 hour flight he took from New York to Geneva.
He had his entire first week planned out. He was going to move in - the company told him the building was entirely furnished, but he wanted to add some of himself to it as well - with his clothes and the little bit of decor he brought with him.
He didn't realize how fast the second plane was until he stepped down the steps and walked from the ramp down into the airport. It was an overnight plane, so leaving at noon and arriving at 9 the next day meant that Ethan had no sleep at all. He knew the time difference was going to kick him around for the first day or so, so he wasn't worried.
Besides, he didn't have anything to do. He wasn't scheduled to work for the next few weeks so he really could do whatever he wanted to. He had enough euros on him in cash to spend a night in the most luxurious hotel in Paris.
His parents kept giving him money, telling him that since his college was all scholarship money it was the least the could do.
Ethan headed down to baggage claim, scanned his passport again, and picked up his suitcase and a card board box he had shipped with him. He hoped that nothing broke.
He walked carefully, carry-on backpack on his back, suitcase trailing behind him, and cardboard box on his hip, until he saw the poster up towards the exit with his name in big black letters, and then he gave the man a smile and headed towards him, setting the box down. They introduced themselves in French, but then the other man continued in English, knowing that Ethan wouldn't be able to understand him completely. They were headed to the apartment so Ethan could get settled in, and then the man, Jacques, would leave him to his own devices.
Ethan was just glad he didn't have to carry all of his things anymore.
Together they loaded all of Ethan's belongings into a black company car before they both slid in back and the driver sped away from the curb. Ethan could hear Jacques telling him things, but the French man's voice was lulled into the back of his mind as Ethan stared out of the car window, watching the country's culture pass before his eyes.
B R I N G . M E . T H E . H O R I Z O N
T H I S . I S . S E M P I T E R N A L