๐ - ๐๐จ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ฐ๐๐ฒ
โข Sep. 13, 1988 โข
Dominican Republic
| La Romana International Airport |
"Please, just promise you'll write me letters every day?"
"Of course Camila. Everyday or I'll call."
Camila brung me into a long bear hug, so worried that this would be our last. I tried so hard to convince her that this wouldn't be goodbye, it'd be a 'see you soon', but she, like many people, had her doubts.
"Hey, hey now. You told me you wouldn't cry." I said, noticing her smudged mascara.
She laughed and pulled away. I let go and wiped at her eyelids.
"Flight 3 โ to southern California will be taking off shortly. I repeat, flight 3 to Southern California will be taking off shortly!"
Camila and I exchanged our last goodbyes and just like that, she was off. I watched her walk out of the glass doors and sniffed a little, trying not to let any tears seep out.
"Well, this is it" I thought to myself.
_____________________
On the plane
| half way to California |
"So what's your story?" The man next to me asked.
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked confused.
"Oh c'mon. You know. What's your story? You're not just on this plane for nothing are ya?"
"Yeah, but what's it to you?"
He chuckled. It made me smile for some reason. With me being a little antisocial and stubborn, people were often offended by my asking of why they wanted to have a conversation. He saw it as funny and I liked that.
"Look, you don't have to say anything. I'm just bored and wanted to be polite. Seeing if you wanted to talk"
"That's your way of being polite?"
"Yes ma'am. One of my many ways of being polite." He winked.
The man had tan skin, he was obviously of Hispanic decent, and looked to be at least in his mid 20s. His head rested a backwards cap full of thick brown hair. He was cute nonetheless, but he wasn't my type.
Or so I thought.
"Okay fine. I'm Mya. I'm from the DR and I'm heading to Santa Barbara for an author deal. Anything else?"
"Mya, huh? Cute. I think it's cool that you're into writing, although you don't look like the type." He said, eyeing me from head to toe.
I rolled my eyes. Everyone always said that to me.
"Oh yeah? Then what do I look like to you?"
He paused for a second, scanning me once more, thinking of a good balance of words. "A party goer, someone that likes to have fun, A rule breaker, beautiful."
My cheeks went hot after that last word. 'Beautiful'. I couldn't get it out of my head for the rest of the flight.
"Thank you. You're good at analyzing."
I smiled.
"Why, thank you. I'm, Charlie. I'm 25 and I'm going back home to Los Angeles. I was on vacation back in the DR for a few months."
I nodded my head. "You sound interesting, Charlie."
"Believe me. You have no idea." He said, leaning back in the seat next to mine.
We let a couple minutes pass by and then I started up another convo.
"What's your life like? I mean...Do you have an occupation or anything?"
I think my question caught him off guard because he looked surprised.
"I uhhh. I do dancing. I mean umm, I dance. I'm actually a backup dancer for a uhh... a special guy." He hesitated.
I giggled a little. "A special guy? What's this guy's name?"
Charlie bit his lip and widened his eyes. "Promise you won't freak out?"
I knew this was getting somewhere serious now. This 'special' guy either had to be big, or had to of been a serial killer or something because the look in Charlie's eyes was scary.
"Pinkie swear."
'Pinkie swear?' I thought. 'What are you, 5, Mya?'
"Okay. It's Michael Jackson." He exclaimed.
I froze. Was I really sitting next to a guy Michael Jackson probably touched? Was I dreaming? I pinched myself. No, I was not.
"You...you work for Michael Jackson?" I asked, still shocked.
"Yeah. It's no big deal though. Don't make a scene." He brushes it off.
Not a big deal? Anyone with blood running through their vessels and a brain would consider working for one of the biggest entertainers in the world, 'A big deal'.
I sighed and looked out of our window on the plane.
"How about we talk about our lives? What interests us, What motivates us to do the things we love?" He articulated.
"Okay, sure. I'd love that. I'd love that very much."
We both smiled. Something was telling me that Charlie and I were going to have some sort of connection, and boy was I unprepared.
Very unprepared.
message from author
[Honest to God, I'm not necessarily new to this, but publishing my work is a little foreign. I'm super nervous about this, but I guess it's not going to be for everyone. Please do leave your commentary and feedback. I'd love to hear your thoughts. VOTE!]
[ p.s. the picture of the girl is my version of Mya. The story is based on the late 80s, but I thought I'd add this generation's aesthetics. Music helps me read, but you don't have to listen to what I've provided above. Okay, that is all. Much love, kisses.]
- trane ,, ninetiesroyal <3
