Many Miles Apart

40. Alfie

It was while I was sat in the airport, surrounded by people, that I realised how completely and utterly alone I was. There were others everywhere, families trying to organise their children, people saying goodbye, holding each other like they would never see one another again. Couples sat side-by-side, hugging and kissing and being in love. Old people, young people, children, and adults filled the massive expanse, yet I felt like I was isolated from everyone. Everyone had a story. Every person had a reason, and a background, and a purpose for being here. If you looked hard enough, you could see all of the tales of happiness and sadness. Everywhere you turn you see another group of people with a past, and present and a future. Whether it be a family saying goodbye, or a couple having seen each other again after so much time apart. Whether it's two long lost brothers finally meeting, or a woman seeing her dog again, each tale is significant, and each person holds a story in their eyes.
And it was in the departure lounge for a flight from New York to Florida, that I realised how madly in love I still was, and always would be with my ex-girlfriend. My ex-girlfriend that I had said goodbye to in an airport, surrounded by others. And in that moment, when we said goodbye, when I tasted the saltiness of her tears on her lips, when I held her in my arms, when I told her that I loved her, that we became one of those stories.

The plane landed with a huge shudder and a deafening roar as the wheels hit the ground. I gripped the handles on my seat, my ears popping as the speed slowed.
As I left the metal cage, I was once again hit by the warmth of Florida. Like last time, nothing could prepare me for the sweltering heat, even at five in the afternoon, and all I wanted was to tear off all of my clothes and jump into a pool.
"Woah", Eric said stepping out of the plane behind me, pulling his sunglasses over his face. I could see his shirt already sticking to him as he fanned himself with an on-flight magazine. "I mean I live here, but woah"
Rebecca followed him, wordless. She was wearing a thin white shirt, with a pair of denim shorts. Her hair fell in blonde waves around her face, and her green eyes seemed to twinkle in the bright sun. She didn't look like she was at all bothered by the heat, and definitely didn't look like she'd been on a plane. Her tanned skin matched the locals, and she looked as if she'd just stepped off of the set of a cliched beach film. I could see the men around me a turning to look at her as she walked down the metal steps, swooning at her smile, but I'd learned to see the anger behind that look, and despite her beauty, I couldn't feel anything.

We checked in, grabbed a coffee and climbed into a taxi, Rebecca and I refusing to even look at each other. I felt bad for Eric, stuck in between the two of us, but not bad enough to break the tension between her and I. I was too angry. Being sat so close to her, so close to the place I'd been staying just made me what to go back to England even more, and as the car came to a stop outside my apartment block, a bubbling excitement was growing inside of me, even though I knew what was waiting for me at home.
The driver pulled up on the pavement, and waited patiently for me to lug my things out of the boot. Eric climbed out of the car and joined me, taking my suitcase from my arms and heading to the block.
"I can do that myself you know", I told him, jogging up behind him to the door.
He placed the bag down on the ground next to me. He then straightened up, and looked at me. I could tell what was coming.
"Alfie man", he said, his accent twanging with his words. "I'm gonna miss you"
He reached out and grabbed my hand, shaking it with his strong grip.
"You too", I replied, unsure what to say. I'd never been good at goodbyes, my last one had been hard enough.
Then, acting on impulse, I pulled him into a quick, awkward hug.
"Keep in touch", I said as he began to head down the path. "You've been good to me"
"Will do", he called, walking backwards to the car. "Oh, and good luck getting your girl back", he smiled. "You've made some mistakes, but you're a good guy." He opened the door and ducked into the taxi.
"Thanks", I shouted as he slammed the door behind him, a feeling of sadness welling up inside me. The car drove away, with it the person that had taken everything from me, and the only person that had been there once she had. I smiled at the irony, before pulling my case through the from door of the building, my excitement to get home dented by sadness.

After around an hour of shoving the few things that I had unpacked back into the large cases that I originally came with, I got a text through on my phone.
There's a cab on its way, I'll see you at the my office in 15 minutes, Nick
The number on the screen wasn't saved, and it took me a moment to work out who he was until I remembered - the guy running the program. But why would he want to see me? I could only guess that he wanted to debrief me. That or tell me off.
I heard the honk of the taxi's horn as I pulled the last case to the front door.
Slamming the door behind me, I headed down the stairs and climbed into the car. I felt like my life at the moment was taxi after taxi, being taken to places that I didn't even know of. I couldn't wait to get back and govern my own life again.
The driver registered that I was in, then sped off without a word. The temperature in the car was unbearable, and even though it has cooled down slightly, the stifling heat radiated off of the roads. It didn't help that the driver clearly hadn't discovered air conditioning.
I watched the city flash past as we drove through the Floridian heat.
It took longer than I'd expected, but around ten minutes later, we pulled up outside the large building.
It was familiar, and I sort of knew my way down the corridors, but it still took me a while to find Nick's office. Eventually I found his secretary, who pointed me towards his room, telling me he was waiting.
I knocked on the wooden door, and waited for a reply. Silence. I knocked again, wondering if he was in, but why would he call me here if he wasn't?
"Come in", a voice said, sounding impatient. I pushed on the handle and entered the room.
The office was large and spacious, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the length of one wall. The plain white paint was jazzed up with a few expensive-looking paintings hanging off of them. A bookcase stood tall, next to it a large metal filing cabinet. In the centre of the room, facing the city, was a huge glass desk, where a man sat, his polo shirt flapping in the breeze of the air conditioning.
"You British people, too bloody polite", Nick muttered, turning to face me. His expression was not happy, far from it. "Are you gonna tell me why you've wasted my time?"
I stood there, unsure what to say. The silence hung over our heads, his frustration radiating from him like another heat source.
"I need to go home", I said finally, knowing as I said it that it sounded stupid.
"You need to go home", he said, his voice laced with mockery. You came to America, wasting my money and my time, just to tell me that you need to go home?", his face started to redden. "You're kidding me?"
"I need to go home and see my girlfriend", I said, trying to sound firm but my voice wobbling.
"Your girlfriend? You're ditching this opportunity for your girlfriend!? This is your future you idiot! No girl is that important, whoever the bitch is!"
That caused me to snap. All fear vanished and turned to pure anger. This was my life and he wasn't going to dictate what I did.
"Don't talk about her like that!", I snapped. I was fed up of being treated like a silly child. And I was fed up of people making comments about her, now matter what'd happened between us.
"Ok then Alfie. Tell me, what is so important about this girl that you need to rush home, dropping everything and ruining you're career?", he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me guess, she couldn't handle the long distance relationship? You want to get home so you can tell her you still love her? You don't even know what love is"
I didn't speak, just tried to hold down the rage that was threatening to explode. My silence was clearly a suitable answer.
"Who the hell is this bitch anyway?!", he shouted, his cheeks having turned a purplish colour.
"This is none of your business!", I said forcefully.
"It's my money you're wasting so you can give me a reasonable answer as to what the hell you're doing!!", he fumed.
"Her name is Zoe", I said slowly, my tone wobbling with madness but knowing that shouting wouldn't help my case. "And she is not a bitch"
His face slowly changed into a picture of realisation.
"Wait, Zoe as in, Zoe Sugg?" He was smiling slightly, malice lighting up his eyes.
I nodded, not sure what to say to his remark.
"Oh my god. Your girlfriend- I mean ex-girlfriend is the Internet sensation that I turned down because i thought you had more potential. Isn't that ironic. Maybe I should have picked her after all." Then his smile faded and the angry tone returned. "So why is she more important? Becuase you've already wasted so much of my money in New York, and you're not wasting even more by leaving now-"
"My plane flies tonight-"
"You're not leaving Alfie."
"You can't decide what I do-"
"YES I CAN!" Nick leapt out of his chair and lunged straight at me. I jumped to the side, his hands missing my arm by an inch. Fear and adrenaline pounded through my heart, my eyes staring at the mad man who was now leaning against the wall, his arms pressed against the wooden frame. He took several deep breaths, before standing up and looking at me.
I took a step towards the door handle, desperate to get out.
"Thank you for this opportunity sir, but I'm afraid I have to leave", I said politely.
I grabbed the handle and darted out of the room, closing the door behind me, before heading down the corridor, shaken, but more ready than ever to go home.