Road to the Stars

Road to Disasters

GMT: 2:03 am
EST: 9:03 pm

UGH.
THE CHECH-IN procedure was more tiring than I imagined it to be. And being the great daydreamer I am, I imagined it to be really tiring. Like, traveling halfway through North America on an Elephant's back tiring.

As I walk around totally drained out of energy at this hour dragging my cabin luggage beside me with my other hand occupied by A Work in Progress, I wander off in my thoughts. This is a very unlikely place to daydream— or should I say night dream?— as LAX is usually overly crowded by people of all ages and sizes and all traveling for different purposes. But well, if I could control the timing of my dreams, maybe, just maybe, I would be at home snuggling on the couch with my mom and dad on my either side. After all, the happy family I was seeing ours as till the day the divorce was finalized only ever existed in my daydreams.

As I glance around, I see a man dressed in a tuxedo which screams that he only means business. Though I'm fully aware that this is none of my concern, but I can't help wondering how can this man feel comfortable in such a well-fitted tux. Maybe, he is not even feeling comfortable because he winces as he stretches his arms high in the air and rises on his tippy-toes. Too much for a professional office look, hm, stranger?

Though I'm completely awake, I'm no better than a somnambulist. I jerk as I bump against someone's shoulder— someone who doesn't even has the courtesy to stop for a second and say sorry. I command my eyelids to stay open, though they are not very obedient. As I walk around, eyes-wide searching for a place that can fulfill my daily requirement of caffeine, I sonder thinking that maybe I'm not the only person in this big wide airport that isn't necessarily excited about being here.

Just in front of me is standing a guy maybe a few years older than me, scanning the place in search of something. Or someone. His height is a bonus but he still strains as he tries to look past all these people. His pastel pink shirt doesn't help a lot as it camouflages with the people rushing around the guy, not once sparing him as much as a glance. He rotates 360 degrees, eyes filled with worry and emptiness as he looks for someone the way a toddler who lost his mum's hand. Suddenly, in a swift movement, he starts sprinting— literally, in the middle of the airport— towards a girl his own age who is continuously trying to call someone but, judging by the look on her face, you can tell she has not been very successful yet. As soon as the guy approaches her, she slams her body towards his chest and he engulfs her in a bear hug, while stroking her long tangled hair the entire time.

As I start walking in the opposite direction towards a barista, a little girl reaches near my legs to retrieve her fallen chocolate. I immediately take a step back and see her with mock admiration as she reluctantly picks up the strawberry-shaped candy and rushes back to her parents, who look at me and mouth sorry. I smile at them and just with a little shake of my hand, excuse myself to walk towards the barista before I lose track of it in this sea of humans.

I think about the happy times when our little family used to go to Malibu to spend summer vacations together. Tyler was always the first one to be set in the car, all pumped up to hit the beach in his baby swimming trunks. If I got my mom's patience, my brother definitely inherited her extreme optimism and excitement about the smallest of things. Want to paint your nails? First, let me write a book about it.

I regret the times when I used to touch my phone on a family vacation. If only I would have known that this was so temporary, so ephemeral...

I am waken from my dream when I bump into someone and I am immediately reminded that I'm in the middle of a place which is completely packed with people. My book slips from my hand and lands on the floor, with a thump which is just a little bit louder than inaudible. Just as I start to process the current happenings, I lose my grip from the handle of my stroller, which lands on its back on the floor, making people passing by cuss and complain on how I should learn to carry my weight. So much for no public humiliation.

I look in front, my all-too-revealing skin turning slightly red mostly due to embarrassment and partially on seeing this very cute guy stand in front of me, one hand behind his neck, who is uttering repeated sorrys in a thick British accent. He is wearing a light blue shirt that clings to his body in quite a few places. His ruffled hair give away nothing more than the fact that he is just as bored about being here.

I bent down to try and straighten my stroller when my denim jacket slips from my waist and lands between our feet. Well done, Cassie. How about you lye down on the floor as well?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, READERS!
HOPE YOU GET A LOT OF TREATS AND YOU FIND THE PERFECT OUTFIT (that's so hard, honestly)!!
STAY TUNED FOR UPDATES!

(Yes, caps was necessary.)

*virtual hugs*
No hate, M