Max and Thea (A Max Irons Fan Fiction)

Chapter One

Chapter One

The flight was due to land in five minutes so I was forced to wake up and straighten my seat. I watched as we flew over the most beautiful scenery; loving that where I would spend my summer was nothing like boring, old British Columbia.

The plane descended and bounced a bit as we hit the runway. I smiled and sighed from relief. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ve travelled before but I have never been on a flight that was nearly this long; especially considering we had stopped in Amsterdam and Thailand. The first time to switch flights and then to let a few more passengers on and refuel. You would think that because of the stops that maybe it would be even a little more bearable.

We were forced to stay seated until the flight had pulled up to our Terminal and we could finally grab our hand luggage. I stretched dramatically and yawned. I loved first class! I was more than ecstatic to find that my Business Class ticket had been switched to one of more value. I had no idea why it had happened but I was grateful.

The fully reclining seat was a definite bonus of this excruciatingly long journey. Although, what I really liked about First Class was the fact that the air hostesses seemed genuinely happy to see you. It wasn’t like this one time I had been seated in economy - an experience that I still have trouble reliving to this day - when those bitches had scowled because I had asked for a pack of the complimentary nuts. The same nuts that they were already pushing around in their stupid trolley.

The plane had ceased to move and I took this moment as my opportunity to unbuckle my seatbelt and wiggle my legs in order to resume circulation within them. Even in First Class, I still had problems with circulation! I should issue a complaint I thought sarcastically.

I hated putting my bags inside the overhead locker because if a plane was going to crash, it wouldn’t be like: “Oh, yah. I should stand up and retrieve my hand luggage with my most important valuables from up in the locker. Items that will probably help me survive on a deserted island”. It was more like that we’d have to live with what was closest to us. Hence, I kept my bag at my feet. Much to the annoyance of the airplane staff. Well, fuck them because I paid for this damn flight.

Actually, I didn’t. The fancy-shmancy camp I would be working at paid for the flight along with food and accommodation. Along with them paying for basically everything I needed, they were also going to give me a monthly salary! And, let’s just say that it wasn’t minimum wage or even close to.

I grabbed my bag and grinned when I realised that I would be amongst the first few to leave the flight. Myself and a bunch of businessmen with watches that probably cost more than everything I had on me; including my Mac.

They all smiled politely at me and let me walk ahead of them, probably so that they could all check out my ass in the tight-yet-comfortable jeans that I loved wearing on flights. Businessmen were all serious on the outside but it wasn’t a secret that, because they were always so busy, they had no time to “get some”.

I hopped onto the attached walkway and found my way around the airport in search of the immigration lines. I considered myself fast track because of my ticket so it didn’t take long to locate the shortest lane with “Airport Staff/Fast-Track” written above the desk. I sauntered over to the line that was three men strong. It was so weird, I had left these same men behind on the plane but somehow they had managed to overtake me and arrive at the line. They all held the handles to small, pullable briefcases and adopted eerily similar straight faces.

I tapped my feet and watched the first man leave his place in line. Two minutes later, the second man left with his passport in hand and a speed-walk that could win him multiple trophies if used as a profession.