cigarette ☞ n.g

one

"just one ticket to new york." mary-kate says to the woman sitting behind the desk.

the middle-aged woman nods, smiling slightly as she typed onto desktop computer set up in front of her. she scans the screen several times before looking back to mary, a solemn look planted on her face.

she picks at her worn-out nail polish anxiously, wondering what could have gone wrong in such a short amount of time.

"is there something wrong?" she asks finally, reading the woman's face.

the woman smiles shortly, hesitating to respond. "yes, uh, the next flight to new york is in seventy two hours, ma'am."

mary-kate's face drooped low, slumping her shoulders. "excuse me?"

"if you want a flight to new york, you would have to wait seventy-two hours. i'm so sorry for the delay." she says politely, folding her pale, wrinkled fingers on the desk.

"no, no, no," she argues. "no, this can't be." her heart starts beating faster, faster than it should. she pulls a few tresses of fallen out hair from her low tail behind her ear, picking out one notebook from the few in her bag that hug on the inside of her elbow. quickly, she opens it on the desk, turning to the last page that was written on. "see? the flight was scheduled for today." she says matter-of-factly. "i have to leave. today. please, if there's anything you can do-"

"we're doing all that we can, ma'am. please remain calm." the woman said.

in and out, in and out. mary-kate thought, helping her to steady her breath. she despised it when people told her to stay calm. most of the time she is.

most of the time.

"please promise me that i'll leave today." she says lowly, only so that her and the woman heard. "please promise me."

"i'm sorry, i can't promise you anything, ma'am. but i can promise you that we're doing everything we can." she nods reassuringly. but mary-kate wasn't reassured at all.

she nodded slowly, pretending as if she understood what just happened. but she didn't. and she didn't want to.

she walked away from the desk, allowing the next person in line to order their tickets. she bit down on her bottom lip, swinging her arms back and forth for a few seconds before dragging her luggage back to the group of seats that was organized in a corner of the terminal.

she let out a deep breath and put her ear-phones into her ears, opening itunes and playing the first song that appeared on her screen, ivy, from frank ocean. he was one of her favorite artists - her favorite, actually. she loved all of his songs and albums. he never failed to let her down.

not only did she love the form of style that his music had, but also the meaningful lyrics that were planted into them. like he read her thoughts and put them into a song, she thought. pulling out one of her notebooks and a black paper-mate pen, she proceeded to continue the last sketch that she'd been working on.

"i thought that i was dreaming, when you said you love me." she sang along to the lyrics lightly, trying to keep herself from being heard by anyone nearby. the terminal was pretty busy at this time of day, and noisy. no one would be paying her any mind. so she thought she had nothing to worry about.

"it started from nothing, i could hate you now. it's quite alright to hate me now. when we both know that deep down, the feeling still deep down is good."

she stopped herself from singing the next line aloud when someone took a seat next to her.

she looked up to the boy, or man. whatever he was, she thought. he was already looking back at her, with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen in her life. he flashed her a light smile. she didn't smile back.

he didn't stop staring at her. and she didn't stop staring at him. it was kind of like a staring contest, except they both blinked from time to time.

"why are you staring at me?" she asked suddenly, interrupting the silence that had formed between them. she knew that it came out harsher than she'd anticipated, but it didn't even matter anymore. she said it already, and she can't take it back.

"i-i don't know." he said to her, flickering his vision from each of her eyes simultaneously.