Elliott Miller is your average 23 year-old, only with a lost father and a resentful mother. When he goes back to his hometown to make amends, he inadvertently gets dragged into the activities of an illicit criminal group.
Enter Marcel Nixon, 25, wh...
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I stepped out of the cab and took my suitcase out, walking up to the automatic bi-fold doors.
My flight back to New York was in about half an hour, and leaving so fast felt somewhat bittersweet. Walking around for the past couple of days really unpacked all of my childhood memories (both good and bad) and I missed that sense of familiarity that existed before things went south. I looked back one last time and took in the scene, trying to memorize it. There was really no reason for me to ever return so this felt like a final goodbye.
I took a deep breath and walked into the airport towards the domestic departures terminal. I had already checked into my flight the night before so I could go straight to the gates without stopping at the check-in and baggage drop counters. The layout was a bit of a maze but I eventually reached gate 23 with ten minutes to spare till boarding was to start.
I found a seat towards the back of the waiting area and decided to do some plane-spotting. I wasn't an AVgeek by any means but I'd always found it amazing to watch planes take off and land, ever since my first plane ride to my uncle's place in Maryland. I'd wanted to be a pilot when I grew up, but that dream quickly fizzled out by the time I reached middle school.
However, a couple minutes into watching aircraft, I noticed a guy enter the waiting area. His presence was almost magnetic, immediately captivating me. Every aspect of him was perfect, from the way he walked to how his jet-black hair slightly bounced with each stride. He bore a neutral expression but his stance conveyed a strong and commanding disposition. His features were almost alluring, with deep set eyes and a defined jawline that could cut diamonds. My breath hitched when he took off his jacket to reveal a black shirt that perfectly clung to his sculpted frame. Being a model myself, I was tuned to notice the fine details that could make or break a person's appearance, and damn- he was perfect.
I think he caught me ogling at his perfection, because his brilliant emerald eyes turned to meet mine, causing me to promptly look away. My face suddenly felt hot and I could visualize it turning crimson from embarrassment. Luckily the ground crew announced that they were beginning to board the passengers so his gaze moved away from the blushing mess that I was right then.
I opened up the boarding pass on my phone to check which zone my seat was in and saw that it was in Zone 3, which I presumed was at the back of the plane.
About ten minutes later, they announced my zone and I picked up my things to join the end of the growing queue. I looked around to see if the handsome stranger was still there but much to my disappointment, it looked like he'd already boarded.
I noticed that I was the last one in line to board so I hastily showed my boarding pass to the crew and proceeded towards the jet bridge. I was greeted by an air hostess that flashed a well rehearsed smile and directed me towards my seat.
One common pattern that I noticed among the cabin crew, who all happened to be women that day, was that although their uniforms were impeccable and makeup was flawless, their faces held a hint of weariness behind those award-winning smiles. I found that incredibly similar to my profession, where appearances had to be perfect, regardless of whether you were having a bad day or not. Recognizing this, I made sure to be as polite as I could, not wanting to be a nuisance. What can I say, my dad left, but he left me with morals.
I made quick work of finding my seat, which was a window seat right behind the exit row. The waiting area seemed quite empty which was understandable, considering it was a Wednesday, and so the flight was naturally quite vacant. I was pleased that both seats beside me were empty, which gave me room to stretch my legs and sleep.
It took another fifteen minutes for the crew to make sure that everyone had boarded before they closed the doors and the plane began taxiing towards the runway. Just as I cozied up against the window, there was an announcement.
"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Welcome aboard this A350 aircraft with service from Los Angeles to New York City. We are currently third in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately seven minutes' time. We will be in the air for a duration of five hours and thirty five minutes, and the estimated time of arrival is 6:20 p.m. We ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for taxi, take-off, and landing. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for choosing Delta Airlines."
Following that was the usual safety briefing that no one paid attention to, and shortly after, we took off. I dozed off pretty much right after we were in the air and a little while later, was awoken by a face full of flawless makeup, who turned out to be a flight attendant informing me to open the window shade for landing.
We finally landed at 6:30, after which I groggily grabbed my bags, and made my way through and out of the airport. I then booked a cab back to my apartment in Manhattan, hoping to pack in as much sleep as I possibly could before my shoot the following day.
Little did I know, fate would have different plans for me.
