"Okay sweetheart, text me when you land," says my father as he kisses my forehead.
"Will do," I say. He was in a rush, so he pretty much disappeared after that.
I put my headphones in and walk to the gate, patiently waiting. I am happy I took the year off of college and decided to visit Paris. My mother was French, from Paris actually, but I never really got to know the culture or even meet her family. She died when I was fourteen and shortly after, my father and I moved from Spain to England. Any kind of contact I have had with my mother's side of family was limited, it was mostly texts for Christmas, Easter and birthdays but nothing more. Up until last month, when my uncle Christophe texted me and we started talking almost everyday. He said he was eager to get to know me better and asked me to come to Paris. As I was already having a tough time at my University in London, I decided to take a break and have some fun.
"Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Paris. We are now inviting first and business class, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you."
I slowly walk towards the reception and have my boarding pass and ID ready. I hope someone will wait for me at the airport in Paris I thought before boarding the plane.
The flight is short but somehow I manage to fall asleep. I wake up as everyone is already packing and leaving. I swiftly get up and try to clean up or at least fold the blanket I was using before taking my little purse and leaving. After I walk past every security check up and get my luggage, I kinda figure someone is waiting for me. And someone was - it was my uncle. Seeing him stand in a crowd makes me smile from ear to ear. I'm really excited to see him.
We make eye contact and I intuitively run up to him and hug him.
"Maria," he exclaims, "You are grown."
I laugh feeling blood rush to my cheeks. In this moment I realize how long we haven't actually seen each other and I feel a little embarrassed. Even though it is not really my fault.
"I can't believe it has been years since I last saw you," he says shaking his head.
"I know, it's a shame really," I say.
"It is, but you are here now and that is important," he says, taking one of my suitcases from me and starts walking. "So did you decide how long are you staying?"
"A year, I think," I say, walking behind him.
"Not longer?" he asks, "I think you will like it here so much, you won't want to leave at all."
"Who knows," I laugh.
We leave the airport and I follow him as he walks towards the black van waiting for us, I guess. Suddenly, people gather in front of the van and I go blind for a second. Camera flashes coming from every corner. I quickly put my glasses on, which were resting on my head and speed up. Someone opens the slide door of the van for us and we jump in. Paparazzi.
"Fuck," he curses, "I don't know how they found out."
"It's okay, I am kind of used to them," I say. It's true. My father is actually quite a known man and paparazzi would follow us often. He managed to find a way to protect me and keep me from the spotlight but from time to time, they would find us and follow us everywhere. It was annoying but over the years I got used to it.
We both sit in silence for good fifteen minutes. It is a little awkward. We don't really know each other at the end of the day. We haven't seen each other for years, last time at my mother's funeral. I stare at him a little bit. He changed a lot, besides getting older he seems kind of worn out and exhausted.
