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Track 1: Arrival

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Track 1: Arrival

The final boarding announcement echoed through the terminal.

"Final call, passengers for Flight 2493 to the Philippines. You can now board the plane."

Abiona Heinz's heart raced. That's my flight. She stood near the vending machine, caught in a silent panic. The men in black suits, her father's men, were scanning the area. They had been tailing her ever since she left without permission. She knew if she'd asked for her father's blessing, the answer would have been a resounding "no." So she ran. It was the only option.

I'm sorry, Dad. I'll make things right when I get back, but this is something I have to do.

Abiona's mission was clear in her mind: she was determined to bring him back—back to the world of music. She had promised herself she would. It was a commitment that burned within her, no matter the risk.

She cautiously stepped into the crowd of passengers making their way toward the gate, blending in as best she could. Her cap, pulled low over her face, hid her identity. But then, one of the men in black walked toward her. She held her breath, heart pounding. Please don't recognize me. Thankfully, he passed without a second glance.

That was close.

But another of her father's men moved in her direction. Abiona's pulse quickened. She bit her lip nervously, preparing for the worst. But at that very moment, the man bumped into another traveler, and in the brief chaos, Abiona seized the opportunity to slip away.

As she boarded the plane, a sigh of relief escaped her. Phew.

"Passengers of Flight 2493 to the Philippines, please fasten your seatbelts. We are now ready for takeoff..."

Abiona didn't bother listening to the rest of the announcement. She fished her earphones out of her pocket, plugged them in, and scrolled through her playlist. I know it's against the rules to keep my phone on, but whatever... we only live once, right?

She found the song she was looking for—the one she and he had written together. The melody swept over her like a wave of nostalgia, pulling her into memories she'd tried to bury. She let the song loop, playing it over and over until sleep claimed her.

In her dream, Abiona was walking down a long, narrow hallway. Faint music drifted from somewhere ahead, the sound of a guitar and a voice she couldn't place. She followed it, her footsteps echoing as she moved closer. The hallway stretched on forever, twisting like a maze, but she pressed on until she finally reached a door at the end.

Opening the door, light flooded the room. A man sat there, his back to her, playing the guitar. His voice was mesmerizing. She felt drawn to him, unable to resist the pull of his music. But just as she was about to reach out to him, the ground beneath her gave way, and she fell into darkness.

Abiona jolted awake to the flight attendant's voice, announcing their arrival.

"Ninoy Aquino International Airport," the flight attendant called. Abiona stretched and yawned as she looked out the window. After hours of traveling, she had finally returned to the Philippines.

She paused the music on her phone. Why do my dreams always end like this? She chuckled to herself. Just like the song we wrote—unfinished, without a title.

As she stepped off the plane, the warmth of the sun greeted her. She inhaled deeply, savoring the air.

"It's been a long time since I was last here," she whispered, stretching her arms toward the sky. The hustle and bustle of Manila surrounded her, but she stood still, momentarily lost in her thoughts.

While waiting for a taxi, a gentle breeze swept past her, carrying a small piece of paper that fluttered to her feet. Abiona looked around, expecting someone to claim it, but no one came. Curiosity piqued, she picked it up and unfolded it. Written on the paper were words—raw, emotional words, perfect for a song.

She smiled softly, tucking the paper into her pocket. It's going to be a good day. With that, she pulled her luggage and hailed a taxi, ready to face whatever came next.