"Hey, besties! It's your girl, Author-Chan, sliding back in with another banger of a story! 🎉
This time, we're diving into the epic world of Akira Akatsuki-aka Akira Yukimura-a bold and spirited Japanese queen.
The vibe? Friendship, fast cars, and...
"Where is that Brian? That clown promised to pick me up from the airport, and now I've been standing here like a lost tourist for a whole damn hour!" I muttered irritated.
"This is a joke. Where's his number?" I grumbled, digging through my bag until I finally found one of his letters with his number scribbled on it.
Wait a second... do I even have a working SIM card in LA? Classic me.
For those who might be scratching their heads, let me break it down: Brian, Romie, and I? We're the OG ride-or-die crew. Haven't seen them in three long years, and now this?
Unacceptable.
I scanned the bustling airport and locked eyes with one of the attendants. "Excuse me."
The woman raised an eyebrow, curious. "Yes?"
"Can I borrow your phone for a quick call? Pretty please?" I asked, trying to sound as sweet as possible.
"Sure," she said, handing it over. Bless her.
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(Her Attire)
I quickly punched in Brian's number. After a few rings, a familiar male voice answered.
"Hello! Who's this?"
"Youuuu bastard!! Where the hell are you?!" I yelled, immediately drawing curious stares.
Did I care? Absolutely not.
"Hey, Akira! Babe, how are you?" Brian greeted, way too cheerful for someone who was about to catch hands.
"Babe my ass! Why aren't you here, picking me up?" I snapped, my annoyance hitting new levels. "I thought you were coming on Friday?" he said, sounding genuinely confused.
"Today is Friday," I replied, deadpan. His laugh on the other end of the line made my blood pressure spike.
"My bad. I'll text you the address. Can you get here yourself?" he asked, totally unbothered.
"Oh, wow. Aren't you just the best friend? I just landed in LA, and you want me to come to you?" I shot back, the sarcasm dripping.
In the background, I heard a girl's voice say, "Here's your sandwich."
"You jerk! You're ditching me for a girl?! Wait there! I'm coming to murder you myself!" I barked before ending the call and handing the phone back to the attendant.
Still fuming, I stomped out of the airport.
No car, no Brian, and I'm definitely not taking a cab like a loser.
My eyes landed on a sleek black Mitsubishi Lancer.
Jackpot.
A guy had just stepped out, and I strolled up to him, casually waving some cash.
