Got To Be Good-looking ('cause he's so hard to see)

~7~

Clare

I awoke to the sound of buzzing, a tiny noisy thing gnawing away at my ears. Like a load of cicadas taking over the plane.

"Do you mind with that noise" I sat up and immediately regretted the venture, vodka hangovers at 30,000 was not the way to travel. The drinking was ok but the hangover ugh, no warm toasty bed, no shower. I felt like death warmed up.

He was shaving his neck, what the?!?!?.... shave the lot off, bloody half arsed job.

buzzzzz                    buzzzzzz.

"It's only an electric shaver, I'll be finished in a jiffy. Gotta look good for the fans, don't I?" I raised an eyebrow, fans, him, what a joke. "Stop whining, Hangover face"

"Are we at Heathrow yet or do I have time to throw you out the doors" I grabbed for the shaver thing but he was too fast and poked out his tongue at his first win of the day. Child.

"Look I don't like you, you don't like me. Though I can't understand why, I'm truly lovable" Cappy placed the shaver in a small bag in his guitar case, making a big deal of opening and shutting the case stroking it like a pet just so I remembered- he had his guitar safely beside him.

I glanced over the guitar, not one I'd seen in the flesh before. Maybe I had seen it in a catalogue but never up close, and never on a plane. "That's a Martin D-28"

"Yes" Cappy a man of so many words when I want him to shut up but when I show an interest in his guitar- one word, one word.

I turned back around in my seat to face forward. A beautiful guitar and he's shoving shaving gear in the case with it. " '65?"

"Yep"

"Come on I'm dying here" I moaned he was worse than pulling teeth.

"Really that would be good, and bad"

"Pray tell, why?" I said, my voice hovering over the warning, warning button.

"Well... good you're annoying and bad cause.... well, if you died there'd be a hell of a hoo-ha with the authority's and I'd be late getting off this bloody plane"

"Hardy ha-ha"

The plane at that moment banked heavily and I gripped the seat either side.

"That seat won't help you when we drop"

"Shut your pie hole, mister"

"As you wish- here" He stood above me and dropped the rest of the bottles on my head.

'This is your captain speaking, we are currently approaching Heathrow airport. Thank-you for-' blah blah.

I am so glad this is the end of the trip.