A man is seen rushing around the second floor of a house. It is a modest house, minimally decorated with sparse furniture. Presently, he is in his bedroom. There are clothes everywhere, an empty suitcase on the bed. He grabs at a few things in his closet. There is a plane ticket beside his watch on the nightstand. A few pieces of clothing are thrown into the suitcase as it is shut abruptly. A rather large, fluffy, orange cat meows at him.
"No time", he says and gives the cat a quick head scratch. He grabs his watch, cell phone, his footsteps can be heard running down the stairs. He grabs his jacket, keys, and runs out the door. The ticket is left behind. The cat flops over and starts cleaning itself.
Nearby, a woman is having a shower. Steam is bellowing from the bathroom. She has a cheugy outfit laid out on the bed. Skinny blue jeans, white collared shirt, and a mustard-coloured cardigan. The room is immaculate, the walls are freshly painted, as is the rest of the tiny condo. Off white almost grey walls throughout with teal and wood accents. She is humming to herself. She turns the shower off and dries. She checks her bedside clock. 8:30. She gets dressed, grabs her car keys, and checks herself one last time in a full-length mirror behind the main condo door.
The man is driving to the airport. An older Honda Civic. Black but looks dark grey due to the harsh winters it has seen. He swerves in and out of traffic, oblivious to everything around him. His hand taps along on the wheel with the drum beat of the song on the radio. It is In the Air Tonight by Phil Collins. During the infamous drum bridge of the song, he cuts off a white Rav4 to take the exit to the airport.
The woman from the shower scene is driving the white Rav4. "Fuck You. You Asshat". She spits as the Honda Civic cuts her off. Her purse flops from the passenger seat to the floor. A small pop is heard. The woman does not notice and continues to drive. A large passenger jet passes by overhead.
Inside the arrivals area. The woman gets excited and checks herself in her pocket mirror before putting on her mask. People are walking by her. She cannot see her boyfriend, yet. Person after person comes through the arrival doors. She approaches with apprehension trying to stay apart from other people is still ingrained in her after the last two years. With the world still acclimatizing to the post COVID way of living, it is hard to remember social cues in public.
Still no boyfriend. A pilot comes through the arrivals door, dragging a bag. The woman boldly approaches the pilot. "Excuse me". Her voice trails off as her cell phone rings. She fumbles in her bag. It goes to voicemail. She waves the pilot on. She heads over to the ticket counters to see if they can help her.
As she waits in line at the ticket counter. We see a man arguing at the ticket counter. It's the man who was driving the Honda Civic. She is sure of it. He's taller than she expected, nicely dressed but in an awkward sort of way. Like he is going to an interview that is a few pay scales up than he is used to. He missed his plane. They are not helping him. He does not have his plane ticket. He tries to find his purchasing information on his phone, but he has a low battery, and it won't pull up his email. He tries to get on the next flight. It's booked. They don't have the regular flights like they used to. Understandably with many travel restrictions over the last two years, airlines have yet to regain their full roster of pre-pandemic flights. There is one available the next morning. He accepts. He pulls out a credit card from his wallet.
It is the woman's turn at the counter. They confirm the flight has landed. Confused, she backs away from the counter and reaches for her cell phone. She calls her boyfriend. Maybe he got into early, and she missed him? No answer. She checks her messages. There is one. it is her boyfriend. He is not coming home. He's staying in New York. He's no longer on contract, they've offered him a full-time job. He hopes she understands. The last two years have been hard being apart so much. He really didn't want to do it this way but it's over. She is crushed visibly crushed. Her mind is wandering. How does this make any sense? She had waited, not that there was much else she could do. Everything was going to be better now. Things would return to "normal". He was supposed to come home. He was supposed to love how she redecorated the apartment. All the supposed tos of the last two years whirled in her head. She leaned against the wall to catch her thoughts. She needs water. There is a Starbucks coffee kiosk. She walks over, buys a bottle of water, and sits at a high stool.
