𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 |𝗚𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗼𝗻&𝗚𝗲𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗶𝗮|

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, making me groan as I shoo whatever it was away with my hand. This time instead of a tap, someone gripped my shoulder, and violently shook it, causing my entire body to shake with it.

My eyes quickly shoot open, and I hysterically look out the window across from me and notice that we're still in the air.

A snap of a finger clicks next to me, causing me to turn around and come face to face with the mean French guy.

"Finally you're up. I need to take a piss, move your ass before I explode." He grits through his teeth frantically.

My once confused face falls to a frown, but I stand and move to the side so he can pass by. I decide to go to the back of the plane near the mini bar, where my father sat at with his eyes focused directly on his phone screen.

My mother sat at their seat asleep, with a pink wool blanket covering her body. 'So peaceful' I thought, before taking a seat beside my dad.

"Hey G I found a couple colleges all around France, that'll help further your flute career." My father smiled warmly. I practically threw up in my mouth.

I think high school killed whatever passion for playing the flute I ever had. I play it wonderfully, but that's just not where my heart lays anymore.

I've always had a strong passion for acting, so I wouldn't mind going to a school for that. I spent my recent nights looking on all cast for different gigs. They have a new gig for not only acting, but modeling and dancing almost everyday.

Some pay good money, and others pay the bare minimum.

It's a very competitive industry as my mother likes to constantly remind me, but I think I can get far in the business.

"Yeah... I'll look into it." I smiled, before catching the woman behind the counters attention.

"Do you have bottled water?" I questioned, making her nod. She bent down, and I'm assuming grabbed one from the mini fridge at the bottom, before handing me the cold bottle.

"Thank you" I greeted, but before I could go back to my seat she stopped me.

"Has anyone ever told you, you look like a young Naomi Campbell?" Her green intense eyes felt like they were staring into my soul. I simply shook my head no, earning a light smile from the girl, before her attention was taken by another customer.

A light snicker was heard passing by, making me turn to my left. And of course it was the asshole from my seat.

I rolled my eyes, before parting ways with my father and making my way back to my seat.

"Naomi Campbell huh? Even I wouldn't give you that big of a compliment." He chuckled, pulling his magazine up to cover his face.

"You didn't have to. Clearly she's intrigued with my looks." I say all so smugly.

"Hmm, I'd like to say you aren't that special look wise. Pretty yes, but drop dead gorgeous? I beg to differ." He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, before crossing his left leg over his right.

"You know you're really an asshole?" I scowled, making him shrug.

"Get use to it sweetheart."

"And why the hell would I ?" 

He closes his magazine, dropping it on his lap before fully turning his body towards me.

"The worlds cold. I don't know what the hell they do in America, but in Paris we don't sugarcoat shit buttercup. Either get with the program, or go cry to your delusional daddy over there." He waves me off rudely.

By now my mouth was fully open in shock. How can someone be so rude? Is everyone from Paris like this ? God I hope not. I knew that the world was cold, but I didn't know there were assholes like him that actually existed.

I let out a breath, crossing my arms over my chest before turning the opposite way and once again staring out the window.

I can't believe what a dick this guy is. Hasn't his parents taught him to be nice to strangers ?

After five minutes of complete quietness, the only thing that could be heard were the people around the plane, as they all engaged in small conversations.

My dad had joined my mother in their seats. They were talking to some older man and woman. 

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." I finally said, turning around before putting my hand out for him to shake.

"I'm Georgia." I smiled, waiting for him to shake my hand.

He narrowed his eyes down to my hand, before sighing and placing his phone back in his pocket.

"Julian" he replied, taking my hand and shaking it roughly. His thick accent slipped out once he said his name. The way he says it is totally different from how they say 'Julian' in America.

He leaned back in his chair, and I did the same.

I don't know how long we've been on this damn plane, but the suns beginning to rise and it's so pretty.

"So why were you in America?" I questioned, breaking the silence that was once comforting.

"Business." He shrugs.

"You?" He questions, turning his head in my direction.

"Business." I also shrug. A small smirk tugs his lips, and I just knew he was gonna say something slick.

"What does a little spoilt girl like you know about business?" He teased, causing me to playfully roll my eyes as I waved him off.

"Not for me you dipshit. My father has his own resort in about 5-6 different states. He got a good deal in Paris, so we're moving there." I smiled at the thought of my own fathers success.

"What about your mother?"

"She's a stay at home. She sews, currently working on getting her own fashion line out." I smiled, hearing him hum in response.

"And you?" He questions once more.

"Well I would like to act. I think I have the look for it... you?"

"I model." He speaks confidently. Oh so this is why he acts like a money hungry snob ?

"Mm" I hum in response, giving his built figure a once over. He just screams 'Model'.

"How about your parents ?"

His once confident smile falls to a stern scowl.

"Mother's dead, father works a business." He grumbles, making me scrunch up my face. My heart clenched for his mother, because I could never imagine my life without the woman who birthed me.

"What kind of business?"

He lets out a breath, before grabbing his head phones and plugging them into his ear.

"Wake me once we've landed." He turns the other way, leaving me feeling dumb founded and stupid.

So much for trying to make friends with a rich, arrogant asshole.