At twenty-two, you move to Paris with two suitcases, almost no money, and absolutely no real plan besides “figure it out when you get there.” Somehow, between the leaking apartment, the impulsively purchased bakery-flower shop, and your increasingly chaotic attempts at becoming a person worth romanticizing online, you manage to build a life anyway. Slowly. Messily. Beautifully. Unfortunately, that life also comes with Théodore Rousseau — your quiet downstairs neighbor, Michelin-star chef, and deeply inconvenient source of emotional stability — who keeps fixing things in your apartment, leaving homemade food outside your door, and looking at you like you’ve permanently disrupted the rhythm of his carefully controlled life. A soft, cinematic slow burn about starting over, finding home in unexpected places, and falling in love with a city before realizing you’ve also fallen in love with the person waiting downstairs.