1

"All passengers of RM-0716, direct flight to Paris, please proceed to the check in station now." A voice of a woman announced through the speakers of the New York City International Airport.

I rushed to the check in station immediately as soon as i heard the announcement. It was a good thing i decided to wear a striped sweater matched with ripped jeans and a comfortable pair of yellow sneakers. I was able to run quickly before they closed the check in for my flight. After passing through the check in station, I passed by a mirror and tucked the loose strands of my chest length ash brown hair. I wiped of some of the beads of sweat that were formed on my temples.

I moved on to the gate of the plane finally. I was glad I didn't flop this one flight. Unlike the other assigned flights I've had before, I was always late by a few minutes so I wasn't able to get to the plane. Sometimes there's a road inconvenience that's why I am attending late to my flights. But often, It's just me, myself and I who fails to wake up to the startling ring of the alarm clock.

But don't get me wrong. I have a high position in the news company that I work for. Also the flights that I miss are always rescheduled anyways. Nope, scratch that, those flights were often rescheduled for me, but some, well they assign it to others. I just have sleeping problems that's all it is. I grew up living with a family of seven, including my parents and they were very kind and generous. That's why they always let me go to bed late. It was easy waking up early before, when I was young. But now it's a different situation, adults would rather stay under the sheets of their bed rather than walk around the house or take a stroll to the nearby park. It's how growing up works.

Yet, even if I do those things, you could definitely say I'm childish when you get past my introvert barrier. Some people won't believe that I am an introvert, but it's the truth. Then why in the world am I working for a news company? Let me clear it up. I gather information but I don't broadcast it on TV. I'm not one of those anchors who wear tight skirt and a coat.

I walked towards the gate of the plane that i will be in. I saw a short line of people holding their boarding passes and their luggages. There behind the counter, just beside the gate entrance is a woman in her mid 20's maybe about my age. She greeted each one of the passengers in line as they gave her their passes. Finally, it was my time to surrender mine.

"Good morning miss! May I have your pass please?" She asked, her voice almost sounded like a squeak due to its high pitch. She also gave me a jaw wrecking smile. Gosh, her smile is literally ear to ear. It kind of scares me though. Maybe if she does not over smile much, she'll look like Kate Winslet who just got a shoulder length haircut.

"Hi! Good morning to you too." I greeted her back and flashed her a smile. I gave her mine and she nodded at me.

"Your flight will take off at exactly 9:30 am miss! Thank you and have a safe trip." She told me, still giving me that smile. I think I actually felt the hair on my nape tingling. She gestured me to go on inside the short tunnel to the airplane.

I entered the plane and I saw a lot of people on their seats, quietly reading a book, listening to their favorite songs, chatting with their family and other more things. Others are busy scolding their children, asking them to stop running around or else they will be loaded off. Though the kids followed the commands, they managed a chuckle, a teasing one actually. I love kids, really I do. But sometimes, there are the types of kids who don't look quite appealing when you look at them. Instead you'll feel annoyed in an instant. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who had experienced that.

I looked around and noticed that I was in the economy section. I walked towards the closed navy blue curtains leading to the premium economy section. Once I entered, I finally saw a more peaceful place. No kids running around endlessly. I looked for Column 2 and walked further until I reached Row 16. There on the seat beside the window and my seat, was a man who was about my age too. or maybe he's two or three years older than me, was sitting down with a book in his hands. He was wearing a white inner shirt and a black jacket with jeans and white sneakers to match his outfit. He has a white milky skin, hair as dark as the old leaves of fall, a perfectly aligned nose, thin lips and piercing black eyes. He was focused on the book at first, but when a few seconds passed, he noticed my presence and smiled at me, while putting his book down.

"Hi! Uhm... are you the one sitting here?" He asked as he points to the seat  beside him.

"Yeah. I am." I said plainly but with a smile.

"Oh, great! Do you prefer sitting window side or you're okay here? I wouldn't mind exchanging with you." He offered, a hint of nervousness was heard from his voice. Yet he managed to hide it by keeping his genuine smile.

"No! It's fine. I'll be fine here beside the aisle. Thank you for offering though."

He just nodded, a bit of sadness and disappointment was shown in his eyes. I couldn't fathom a reason why. So I let it pass.

He returns to reading his book and I opened the luggage compartment and stuffed my things in it. I sat on my chair finally and I looked through the Discs at the back pocket of the chair in front of me and I found a stash of low grade discs. Great, I thought. I looked for more and I found Cast Away, starring Tom Hanks, Superman, gosh really? Like I would watch Superman. I decided to pick Cast Away, since it's the only movie that my mind eyes would allow me to see. Chic Flicks are my type though, sadly there's none. It probably got shuffled around some other seats.

I put it inside the attached DVD player on the head rest of the front seat and plugged the earphones in it. But just before the movie started, the speakers surrounding the internal of the plane beeped.

"Flight RM-0716 will now take off. Please buckle your seat belts and enjoy the flight, thank you!" A voice of a female flight attendant announced.

The symbol of the seatbelt above us lit up. I quickly buckled up and so did everyone else on the plane. I felt the minimal vibrations of the plane engine below my feet and I looked out the window of the plane and realized that we just started moving. I also noticed in my peripheral vision that the man beside me started gripping at the armrests tightly. Poor armrests. If they were alive and breathing, they would probably be choked to death right now.
Glad they weren't.

Beads of sweat were also forming on his forehead and his temples. The nerves on his neck and arms were now visible. Clearly he's struggling. Yeah, i just stated something that is freaking obvious. It's what journalists are quite used to, though not all. I tried to think of something to help him, sing? Nah, we'll probably get caught inside a storm if I do sing. Dance? So stupid to dance while the plane is currently taking off. Starting a conversation? Well, great thinking, self! Mentally pats self on the back.

I looked at him and he didn't even noticed me staring at him already. I glanced at the window and realized that we're already above the clouds. I looked back at him and he was still struggling in his little space. I finally recalled his offer of exchanging seats a while ago. I thought of something quite explicit to what he was trying to achieve earlier.

"Hey. You okay?" I asked worriedly, pretending to see that he's clearly not okay.

He looked at me slowly and I saw the droplets of sweat slowly trickling down towards his eyebrows and his jaw. He managed to tug his lips for a smile. He just shook his head, showing disagreement.

"I see... You fear flying don't you?" I asked again.

He nodded in response and kept the smile on his face, even if he looked like he was about to choke. His lips turned pale and his arms kept holding on to the armrest like his life depended on it.

I decided to close the window blinds beside him. I just thought maybe keeping off things that reminds him of flying would calm him, and he did. The nerves on his neck and arms disappeared, the sweat on his forehead dried up, and he managed to genuinely smile at me again, not the play nice smile that he used when I asked him if he was alright.

"Thanks. I feel much better." He said shyly. He reached into his backpack and brought out two bottles of water.

"Here. Drink up." He offered then proceeded to drinking his own.

I gladly accepted the bottle and uncapped it. I drank half of its content and shoved it inside my bag.

"So... Let me start over." He said with a bit of confidence in his voice. He cleared his throat for about three times before saying another word. "I'm Rayden Strucker. Nice to meet you." He introduced himself and flashed me a smile as he offered his hand.

"Hi, Ray-den." I said, pronouncing his name properly. It sounded like Riley with a den or like a combined R plus eye plus den. You get me. " I'm Maisey Blake. Nice meeting you too." I said accepting his hand and shook it.

I let his hand go and we both looked back in front. I saw the lights of the seatbelt symbol go off. Everyone unbuckled their seat belts and went back to their own businesses. I then remembered about Tom Hank's Cast Away. I was about to put on my earphones when Rayden started talking to me.

"So, Maisey. What brings you all the way to Paris?" He fiddled with the book  on his lap, flipping one of the pages back and forth without making an eye contact. He actually looked like a five year old kid.

"Well. I work for Camstream News Corporation. I was assigned to gather news about the rally that happened in front of the Big Ben. I was given a month actually. But I asked for another month for a leave. The Head Supervisor said it was fine, as long as I would be able to gather and send the information they needed within two weeks, maximum."

He smiled and nodded. "So are you the reporter? Will I see you on TV soon?"

I laughed at what he said. He was serious with the question though. But the thought of me reporting on live TV or even recording a voice over for the report would be damn ridiculous and impossible! Technically possible but, physically impossible for me. I can't handle the stage, or the camera.

"Sorry for laughing. I really just couldn't imagine myself as a reporter!" I exclaimed. He let out a soft chuckle. "But, I'm one of those who gathers information and scoops of every assigned news. That's why I travel a lot." I confessed. Out of embarrassment, I started to play with the hem of my sweater.

He just stared at me after hearing what I said. He then let out a chuckle after a while. I looked up at him, quite surprised with his happiness.

"Well, as for me, I'm a writer. Yes, an author. I seldom travel airborne, but with my brother's invitation to an art museum opening in Paris, I need to go. Even if I go there alone. It's passion kicking through, you just couldn't resist it. Sometimes, you even talk to yourself, not in a creepy way, don't get me wrong. I mean random thoughts out of nowhere of comes in and out of my mind. I love observing the nature, the people, even a simple free fall of an autumn leaf, I would gladly observe, for inspirational purposes." He said with an interval of short breaths after every sentence.

Maybe that was the reason why he stares at me sometimes. I bet he could not decipher any sort of inspiration through me. I looked at his backpack, the one in front of his seat. It was barely opened, but I managed to get a glimpse of a few things. Inside, I saw a laptop, pens and notebooks of different sizes and books. Lots and lots of books. I wonder if one of those are his. He did said he's an author.

"Do you read books?" He engaged another conversation as he put down the book he was reading.

"Yes. I do read. But I never get to finish the endings though." I said in a matter-of-fact tone.

He chuckled at my answer and raised an eyebrow at me. "Really? You know those are the good parts! Endings are the real climax of each and every book!" He said with such conviction. I could see that he was trying to convince me to read the endings.

"Yeah. Maybe. But books always come with the same ending. The boy dies, the girl suffers, they both die, both families suffer. Or the woman gets rich because of the man or the man finally saved the woman after every single challenge. Cliché, signiore." I said, quite bitterly.

He managed a smile, but disappointment and sadness took over his black but tender eyes. I realized that he was quite offended with what I have said. I was too hard though, thinking that he's an author too. I felt guilt rush through my internals.

"I'm sorry... I don't actually mean all. Sorry." I apologized and bit my lip, trying to suppress the guilt inside.

"Nah. I'm good. Author's always get that first impression though. It's fine. People were born with the right to judge every creature in this world. Sometimes that judging helps them keep away from harm, yet others are getting into harm's way because of it." He said with such wisdom in his voice. His words penetrated into my long term memory, making itself comfortably stored in there.

"Could I borrow one of your books? If that's okay." I asked. I guessed it would really cheer him up if I did read one of his published books.

His eyes lit up and a smile suddenly formed on his lips. He unzipped his bag and rummaged the books inside until he found the one he was looking for. He took a yellowish brown book. It was at least an inch thick, about six to seven inches tall and three inches wide. It was made hard bound as I could see. The cover was made up of glossy paper and the picture on it was a silhouette of a little boy sitting on the peak of the mountain. He handed it to me and I took it then flipped it to see the back cover.

There I saw the summary of the story. As I was slowly reading it, understanding and feeling every word that I could read, I noticed that my heart was being tugged and pulled, metaphorically, as if it was asking me to open it now. I assumed the story was good since it was a drama, inspirational fiction story.

I flipped to the first chapter of the book. The thickness and roughness of the paper was deeply felt through my skin. This book has a different effect on me. I don't know why or how, but it does get me pulled. It has this aura that I couldn't fathom.

"Gives you a certain pull does it?" He asked as if he just read my mind. He smirked at me and winked.

Author's Note

Comment anything that you think seems wrong