Sitting in a hospital bed certainly isn't how I'd like to spend my evening. However, the doctors' bumbling ineptitude is causing a great deal of humour for both Chris and I so, reluctantly, I stay put. After about 6 hours of waiting in a bed, a nurse returns to my side with a trolley of different rolls, scissors, bandages, the whole shabang.
"So, honey, you've broken your 2nd metacarpal and the trapezoid which means we're going to put your hand in plaster then you're free to go." I grin at Chris, the sudden news of my impending escape music to my ears. He squeezes my uninjured hand gently as a sign of his affection.
As the young man gets to works, he starts up a casual conversation with Chris and me.
"So what do the two of you do for a living?" We exchange a look, the pair of us smirking.
"I make videos in my bedroom," says Chris.
"Yeah, I help him with that." The nurse goes a dark red colour and avoids our eye contact. I snicker, letting him continue with his handiwork. In less than 15 minutes, my cast sets and I am discharged.
Yet again, the pair of us slid into his small car. This time however there is no awkward silence. The normal banter fills the car again and, finally, I feel at ease.
------
Sporting my green cast, Chris, myself and our good friend Simon sit in Heathrow airport. It is a funny experience to see Simon and Chris together; with about half a foot between them in heigh, their conversations can be somewhat problematic.
"So, Molly, how've you been? Vikk misses you like mad!" Simon asks.
"Awh, I really miss him to. I need to come and visit sometime."
"Yes, yeah you do! How 'bout you, Chris? Fancy paying us a visit?"
"Nah, I'm alright," he replies sarcastically. I slap his arm gently, chuckling a little.
"I think what he means to say is yes."
The high-pitched tannoy blares a loud flight call, drowning out our conversation completely but alerting us that it's our time to board our plane. We both stand and Chris takes my non-casted hand in his as Simon walks on a little ahead of us. My small rucksack containing only my laptop and various notebooks is slung over my right shoulder and Chris holds his rucksack also; only God knows what crap inside it however.
As we walk up the steps into the plane, multiple air hostesses in skimpy little dresses, neckerchieves and high heels smile at us fakely, their happiness plastered onto their faces as if their lives depended on flashing their abnormally pearly whites to to world. One thing I have never understood is why air hostesses seem to all fit the same mold. It's as if employers have a barbie doll on their desk and if the candidate doesn't reflect it exactly, they're sent packing.
However, we find our seats (in first class, may I add) with relative ease and sit back comfortably. Mine is right by a window meaning that I'll be able to see the landing and take off, one of my favourite parts of flying. Chris is one seat away from me and Simon is on the other side of Chris. Both have vlogging cameras out are are documenting every single aspect of the trip.
Except me, that is.
I made the decision a while back that I didn't want to feature on YouTube, at least until I had got myself another job and had established a life after the Navy. It's a strange thought to think that the vlogs that are supposed to reveal all of the gory details of a youtuber's life actually do the exact opposite, hiding the real truths that make them tick. Like me for example.
The safety talk commences just as I get comfortable and I look over at Chris, knowing that he knows it off by heard and will almost be certainly mouthing along. I chuckle quietly when my suspicions are proved correct. The last couple of lines we mouth together and he sticks out his tongue playfully when he hostess is done. I blow him a kiss then hide behind the barrier separating us, popping up every now and then with a funny face of two.
By the time the plane starts to move, we are in fits of giggles but, realising that his opportunities for cinematic shots of take off, he passes his camera to me, silently asking me to film for him. The plane picked up speed and started to rumble and then nothing.
With a small tapping noise, the wheels came out of contact with the runway and we were flying. Off to Abu Dhabi.
---
It's short and bad but, after a long absence, I am back with a chapter. I'm not going to come up with a silly excuse, only promise that I'll try to not leave like this again. Please remember to vote and comment as every single thing you do for me means the absolute world.
Meggooo xx
YOU ARE READING
inspired ; chrismd
FanfictionA few years ago, Molly left Sheffield. She left behind friends, family, her entire life to pursue a dream. Now she's come to London on leave from work and she finally makes contanct with a long lost best friend. Their relationship is mended and new...
