"Alright, now you girls take care of yourselves and call us in case there's anything you need!"
Freya's parents were the ones to drop us off at the airport. Mine were off at a conference somewhere in Jylland. They had said that it pained them not to be able to come and drop me off, but it was only two days and I was a big girl. But it's okay- Freya's parents feel more like my own anyway.
"We will, thank you so much for taking us to the airport!" I said, and giving each of them a hug.
Just as I walked away, I noticed Freya wasn't following. I looked back to see her still standing with her parents. Her mom had one hand on each of her shoulders with a serious look on her face. Her dad was standing behind her mom, looking around the airport, clearly not as attentive to what was happening. I took a few steps towards them, leaving just enough space between us so I could hear what was being said.
"You have your passport?" Freya's mom asked.
"Yes, mom, I've got it," She replied, rolling her eyes.
"And your-"
"- Along with money, my phone and my ID. Mom, I'm 19, I've got it covered." Her mom squeezed her cheeks.
"I know honeybun, I'm just not used to you leaving me." Freya clenched her fist and brought it to her forehead in frustration.
"Alright, alright, I'm going now, okay?" Freya hugged her parents bye, before turning to me with a pout.
"You ready, honeybun?" I asked, chuckling at her.
"One more word out of your mouth, and we're not going." She pointed her index finger at me, which was all I needed to be shut up.
Usually, the airport security would take forever, but today it went by fast. For me, at least. Freya got her cigarettes taken away for some weird reason, but it didn't mind her one bit, she would just buy new ones inside the airport.
After she'd gotten her smoke fix, we were getting hungry. We scoured the airport after a restaurant that was open, but unfortunately, the options weren't plenty- So we settled for good old Joe and the Juice. I got myself a tunacado without tomato, of course, I believe tomato was created by the devil. Whilst we sat and ate, we discussed possible things to do in Stockholm. I pulled up a list from TripAdvisor of the 15 best things to do in Stockholm.
"Okay, so it says that the top attraction is some boat museum. Do we want to do that?" I asked her and immediately received a "m-m" which indicated a no. I scrolled down the page and landed on the ABBA museum. Out of instinct, my hand flew to the side and hit Freya right in the throat without me realizing.
"Dude! We have to go to the ABBA museum!" I exclaimed, for all of Joe and the Juice to hear. She was coughing up her sandwich and making gagging noises, that made me look at her. She held her hands out to each side and looked at me like I was stupid.
*First call to passengers for flight SK410 to Stockholm Arlanda. Please go to gate.*
"Dude, you legit almost killed me." She said and I apologized, but then she agreed on my suggestion and we were off to our gate.
To say the flight was full was an understatement. It was packed. And Freya and I sat between a tall man, who took both of our arm rests. Imagine the discomfort of being pressed against a wall for 1 hour and 15 minutes and then imagine being sat in the very last row of the plane, so you're having to sit there way longer than that. So naturally, when it was our turn to get up, we let the tall guy get up first. On his way out of the row, his ass accidentally brushed against Freya's face. My eyes went wide in shock and my hand flew to my mouth, that also was wide open. Reya's eyes also went wide, but she just stared into the seat in front of her.
"When we go home, you get aisle seat, Olivia." She said and snapped out of her trance.
"I'm 100% fine with that!" I replied and waved it off, before I got out of my seat, following behind Freya.
We got off the plane and exited the airport. I had to ask a few employees from the airport for directions to the taxi rank, but we found it quickly and hailed a cab to drive us to our hotel.
"Where to?" The driver asked. Freya found her messages between her and her mom.
"Uhh, the Hilton Stockholm Slussen Hotel, if there's anything that sounds remotely close to that." The driver, an old guy, smiled at us in the mirror and nodded his head.
"A very nice place! Nice choice." And then we drove off into the city.
YOU ARE READING
BULLET.
Fanfic"the one i'd die for, and the shooter was the same." when a danish girl lies about her age to one of sweden's most famous singers, and her life becomes a shitshow.
