Zlatan, The God

1- Plane

-5:30am-March 25th-Montreal, Canada-

Everything is annoying this morning. My tea is too hot. My feet are cold. Instagram overflows with useless posts. My appartment is lacking any sort of decoration. The lugage next to the main door is reminding me of the painful staircase waiting for me to destroy my arms trying to cary everything out to the street. I am moving today. Scratch that, I'm not moving. I'm simply starting over. Paris is waiting for me. I am head of an app design company, which is kind of an easy thing to be. I'm well paid, I get to approve of everyone's work while not necessarily being at the company and I get to do art, which is my favorite thing to do. My name's Charlie, by the way. Charlie Andreia Dos Santos Adam, born half portuguese, half french. My parents don't really talk to me much. I've got friends, though. alot of them, actually. Only 4 of those are the real ones, if you get what I mean. Jackson, who's 2 years younger than me, is like my brother. We've obviously been a couple in high school, but it ended nicely and he is my best friend, now. Then, there's Duck. Duck's real name is Tristan. He works at the company, actually. He's really nice and really smart, which makes him the perfect "Big brother". Finally, there's Mia. This chick the cutest thing ever. She's got alot of tattoos, she's about 1m55 and is simply adorable. She works at this gallery I used to work at.

And so my last minutes in this apartment end with the clock striking 6:00 and Duck entering my appartment.

"Hola amigo"

"Hey Charlie" he says, drinking the rest of my tea. "You're ready?"

"I guess so" I say, as I take a last look at my place. We call it the hole, actually. I don't know why.

Duck was already off with 2 of the suitcases, leaving me with my backpack and the last suitcase. I locked the door for the last time. It was kind of a sad moment. That place helds my best and worst memories. I hopped in his car, which was blasting our favorite Travis Scott album. We didn't talk the whole ride. He wasn't much of a talker, which gives you such a comfortable feeling. Gosh, I'm gonna miss him.

After a 30 minutes drive, we finally got to the airport. Oh gosh, Charlie. Don't cry, please don't cry. We got out of the car and dropped the luggage on a cart. He looked at me, his hands in my favorite black hoodie of his. His eyes started getting glossy. That's when I broke down and ran crying at him. Hugs aren't much our thing, as I am 1m60 and he's nearly 1m90, but this one felt like heaven. After a couple of minutes, we got out of it.

"Keep this, I know it's your favorite" he said, giving me his hoodie, whiping a tear off.

"Aren't you cold? Are you sure, cause I- "

"Hey, it's alright, I need you to remember me" he said, smiling.

"I guess it's goodbye, for now" I said, barely holding my tears in.

"I guess it's goodbye, for now" I said, barely holding my tears in.

"I guess so, Char" He whispered.

"Tell Mia and Jackie I love them, alright? And take good care of the office" I said, laughing a little

"Of course I will" he chuckled

"Bye, Duck" I said, tangling my hands in his hair"

"Bye, amiga" He said, as I started to leave.

And here I was, on a plane, my old life behind, my Macbook open in front of me, Paris waiting for me.