baggage claim // l.h

first • luke

Luke Hemmings

Kingsford Smith Airport - Sydney, Australia

To define airports: complexes of runways and buildings for the takeoff, landing, and maintenance of civil aircraft. Or, chaos, that is depending on who you asked. If you had asked Luke Hemmings his opinion on airports about five years ago, he would have told you they were scary. He had been fifteen the first time he boarded a plane, and his mother had not needed to hold his hand. That didn't stop his obnoxious best friends from distracting him for the take off. Granted, there was a small twinkle of disappointment when the airplane didn't do a loop as it ascended.

As for today, that was a different story. Luke hated airports. He wasn't quite sure when it had happened. Somewhere between three roundtrips to America and the UK, flying in general had become a nightmare. Sure, the actual flying part was cool. There was almost this incredulous feeling that came with being to out of reach from the world below. But there was still that indomitable shred of fear that ran as a cold sweat down his neck when the plane was landing.

Luke clutched the armrests of his seat as the plane wheels made contact with the tarmac of the runway. He let out a breath when the pilot spoke; announcing to everyone a safe arrival to their destination. Sydney, Australia.

People clapped, and while it would usually annoy him, Luke found himself applauding along. He was finally home. 

He waited as people flooded the narrow aisle of the plane. They rummaged through the overhead compartments like savages for their carry ons. Luke sat tight in his seat, eager to get out of the cramped space, but patient to wait out the other passengers. 

Luke clutched to his backpack with a secure grip, not bothering to remove his headphones. Different people vacated the plane, not sparing a second glance his way. Finally, he rose from his seat as the last person rushed out the plane; giving the flight attendant a smile as he exited.

The first thing he did once he was outside was smell the air. Luke would be lying if he said he didn't miss the scent he couldn't even describe. He'd even grown to miss the heat that suffocated him as soon as he took two steps.

Usually, someone from his security detail would be there to back him up. One of his bodyguards would take care of luggage, and someone would guide him and his band to the carousels at baggage claim. But Luke didn't have a band anymore, or a bodyguard for that matter.

He sighed, following the signs above him to customs, and then baggage claim. All he wanted after that was to crash on his bed and wake up when he had his life more or less sorted out.

That wasn't going to happen.

Luke held one strap of his backpack in his hand, his passport in the other. He rolled his eyes as the lady customs gave him a hard time, until she read the name on his passport and made him take off his glasses. After that there was a rushed apology, and she'd even asked for an autograph for her niece.

He of course complied, doing it all with a smile, but Luke wanted to just scream. There was bound to be another crowd waiting for him at the arrivals gate if someone so much as hinted he would be at the airport today. Luke had been bracing himself for shrill screams and grabby hands. But as he adjusted his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and turned the corner, he saw nothing.

All Luke saw for a couple feet were unassuming people waiting for their luggage on the conveyor belts. He adjusted his hat backwards on his head, and moved to the carousel under a screen displaying his flight information.

Luke's foot tapped against the linoleum floor, and he wished there was someone here to take care of his bags like there usually was. But he was here all alone, and with no idea of where his former bandmates and team could be.

People began to cluster around him, some looking over his shoulder in attempt to spot their bags. Luke busied himself with his phone. He ignored the people tripping around him, and shrugged at half hearted apologies as people ran around him. 

Finally, when he looked up again, he spotted his red suitcase. Luke walked forward, not bothering to say excuse me as he approached the conveyor belt and lifted his bag. He could finally go home.

No one seemed to recognize him as he walked out the automatic doors at the terminal, stepping out to the curb where the taxi rank was. He waited for the attendant to flag him down a taxi, and ignored the incredulous stare he received once she realized who he was exactly.

It was strange, being home this time of year when he should to be somewhere else in the world, performing for a crowd with his best friends. But things were different now, and he refused to believe he was a coward for having picked up and left.

Luke needed this time alone to pick himself up again, even if that meant giving his mother a heart attack when he showed up unannounced. Or putting up with the backlash later on. He was home, and that was all that mattered. He heard as the boot of the car slam shut and let out a loud exhale. Resting his head against the dirtied window, Luke attempted to clear his head, and now his headache.

dedicated to the incredible jigglypufflucas