Chapter 1

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// Authors Note: \\
First, Hello and thank you for reading! I wanted to point out from the beginning that this is a fan fiction and therefore not 100% true. I tried to incorporate a roughly accurate timeline of events, but obviously it is not going to be exact.
Thank you & Enjoy!

I plopped down on the hard bench in the airport, dropping my two carry on bags at my side. I glanced around at the view before me. Lots of people, obviously. But what stuck out the most to me was the families. Moms, dads, grandparents, little kids. Aside from the occasional stressed out mother who you could tell was responsible for everyone's luggage making it on board, they all wore gleeful smiles on their faces. It made sense, considering it was the beginning of August and they were probably all getting in those end of summer vacations. I on the other hand, was sitting quite alone, Walkman in my lap, and taking a drag of my last cigarette, at least for the next 8.5 hours. Aside from people watching, I was really just hoping to hear my flight number get called soon. I double checked my boarding pass-  Flight 720 to Seattle, Washington from Evansville, Indiana departing at 8:50am. Should be arriving by 2:50pm; Pacific time zone being 2 hours behind. Just then the perky lady at Gate 2 called out for all passengers to start boarding. Right on time! I collected my bags and headed for the gate. There were only a handful of people in my line. The more popular gate seemed to be Gate 3, which was headed for sunny Florida. No surprise there, though.
Thankfully I was able to get a window seat, and even better, by myself. A flight attendant with bright red hair and matching red lipstick stood with a smile as another attendant began citing the what (and what not) to do's during the flight. I fastened my seat belt as soon as I heard the rumble of the jets start up. The attendants were going over the oxygen mask rules when I slipped my headphones over my ears. My eyes closed.

What seemed to be just a few minutes later, I was woken up by the sound of the pilot's voice announcing we were making a brief stop in LAX. It would only be a half hour delay at most, he promised. And we would all stay on this plane. That was all we knew. I tried to just go back to sleep, but it was a failed effort. Out the window, there were some mountain ranges that were pretty, but surrounded by desert. Once we touched down in Los Angeles, things did go by pretty quick. A few new passengers boarded our plane. Although there were still multiple open seats, a man probably in his early 30's or late 20's sat beside me. He was quick to say a casual "Hi, how are you?" Ah, so he was the friendly type. "Good, how are you?" I replied, a little bit of annoyance in my tone. "Oh, I'm doing great!" He smiled as he pulled a note book and pen out of his leather bag. I nodded and glanced out the window, hoping we'd take off again already. "So you're Pacific Northwest bound as well, I take it?" The man inquired, his eyes still on his notepad, but grinning all the while. "Yes, if we can ever get going."
At that he raised his eyebrows, and that was pretty much the end of conversation. It wasn't long after that and we were in the air again. Thankfully the duration of the flight went by quickly and smoothly. Before I knew it, we were descending again. Out the window, the Washington sky was cloudy and gray. "So, you like Iron Maiden?" The man sitting next to me asked, this time fully looking at me. "What?" I stammered, caught off guard by his sudden question. "Your Walkman. I saw you putting in an Iron Maiden cassette earlier," he explained, gesturing to the headphones in my lap. "Oh," I said with understanding. "Yeah, they're pretty good!" He nodded with a thoughtful expression. "I like them too. Oh, by the way, my name is Cameron." He extended his hand. I shook it and said, "I'm Heather." "Nice to meet you, Heather," he said sincerely. An attendants voice came over the intercom: "Please remain seated and keep your seat belts fastened." I checked my seatbelt and then began to put my things back in my bag. "So, have you been to Seattle before?" Cameron asked. My response was quick. "Nope!" He let a second or two pass before he pressed on, "Well what brings you here then?" My eyes glanced out the window for a moment, then I looked straight forward and shrugged. "Seems like a good place to be." Another brief silence. "Well, if you ever need anyone to show you around, or if you need any tips or suggestions on anything Seattle, please don't hesitate to give me a call," he stated confidently. He handed me a business card. I took it and smiled. "Thanks, Cameron."
"Absolutely!" 
A few minutes later, bags in tow, I followed the signs for the nearest exit. A moment later I was standing along the curb of the SeaTac airport, waiting for a taxi. I glanced down at the white business card. There was a phone number on one side. When I flipped it over, the small black words read "Cameron Crowe - Director - screen writer - producer- rock journalist." My eyes widened a little. Wow, I thought to myself. Interesting!

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