Chelsea
———
The airport beamed with life of its own—The chaotic rhythm of suitcases rolling against the tiled floor, the shuffled footsteps of passengers walking around in a hurry, and announcements crackling over the speakers.
The sheer enormity of the atmosphere seemed to eat me up. I couldn't help but let my gaze wander, from the bright lights, to the breath-taking destination displaying over the monitors, and the diverse groups of passengers leaving and arriving. The floor-to-ceiling window granted mind blowing views of planes, disappearing like stars, into the horizon on the soft blue sky.
It was my first time at the international airport, and I was soaking in every moment.
I stood there nervously, clutching the strap of my lucky tote bag, and struggling with my luggage. Sloane should have been here, she promised she would, but a last minute shoot appointment from her agency snatched her from me. I didn't blame her. Just like me, she struggled with work and proving to doubters that she was the best. I really could've used her calming presence, But I was left alone tugging at my bags, and holding onto my boarding pass like a lifetime.
And then there was Xavier. My chest tightened as the thought of him crossed my mind. I had tried calling him before I left the house, but he didn't pick up. Not exactly the grand farewell I had hoped for, but I guess he was busy. The abruption of the trip didn't sit well with him, but he needed to understand that it was for the better, I hoped he did. I missed him already—his warmth, his easy smile, and the way he called me clumsy with that teasing voice of his. This trip would be for the better, I knew it would. A little space. Maybe it would make him appreciate me more.
Just as I was deep in sweet thoughts, my phone chimed. The loud familiar sound cutting through, and causing my breath to hitch.
Yvette
The name sent a spike of anxiety down my spine, pulling me out of my fantasies and back into work mode. I unlocked my screen with a swipe, and just like that, a flood of bullet points filled my screen.
• Immediately clock in at the office, and attend to the phone calls and emails.
• Confirm Elizabeth's dinner reservations with the partners at the Pierre.
• Book an appointment with the foreign models (try not to embarrass yourselfthis time)
• Double-check the hotel's conference room setup.
• Call the PR team about the event operations.
The list went on as I scrolled. I hadn't even stepped my foot on the plane, but I was already getting drowned with work.
Somehow, I was always stuck at the desk booking flights and appointments, reviewing mails, and taking calls. Never in gorilla, where the real business was. Foolish me, what was I thinking? I accepted the job offer as a second assistant out of desperation, despite my overqualification.
Yvette on the other hand, got to fly around the world with Elizabeth; attending board meetings, hosting events, meeting with foreign partners, and even standing side by side with her, wearing that petty smile that made me sick to my stomach.
I lifted my head from my phone, and glanced at the monitor where the arriving, and departing flights were displayed.
Gate B12. Boarding now.
My gaze switched from the screen, to my boarding pass and back.
"Oh crap. My flight!"
I snapped off my daze, sliding my phone back into my blazer pocket, and tightened the grip on my luggage. I broke into a near sprint, my heels wildly clanking against the floor, the wheels of my boxes rolling loudly, and my tote swinging across my hip.
The security gate pass was not so far ahead, but between us, was a gathering of passengers. I hurriedly delved into the crowd. Cursing and apologizing as I weaved through groups.
I successfully dodged a family with twin toddlers, only to bump into a businessman who had his phone pressed onto his ear. He shot at me with an angry look, muttering words that I barely had time to register.
"I'm so sorry." I received no response, but I wasn't waiting for one.
I whipped my head around to continue my race when I collided with an overloaded cart. The impact knocked the bags over, sending myself and the driver crashing down. He muttered an apology as he stumbled backwards, but I barely acknowledged it. I picked myself up, but my own momentum sent me off balance—my shoe caught on the slick tile, and suddenly, it's gone, flung into the chaos of rushing travelers.
For a moment, I considered going back for it, but I glanced at the sea of moving bodies with their impatient glares, and then my gaze shifted to the clock—ticking and not pausing for a second. Nope, It wasn't worth it. With a frustrated sigh, I pressed forward, limping with one foot bare, and the other shoe slapping against the floor. Closing in on my destination, and leaving a trail of chaos in my wake.
I finally made it to the station, jumping into the line, and fumbling my passport and other documents with my sweaty hands. Just as I got cleared, a robotic voice over broke out of the speakers above again.
"Final boarding call for flight 213 to New York." My heart bounced against my ribs at the sound of the announcement. I couldn't afford to miss my flight.
Belt unbuckled, laptop out and shoe in hand, I wrapped my things up in a messy bundle and raced for the gate. My legs ached, and my lungs burned as I struggled. The flight attendant stood at the boarding door, tugging at the handle ready to shut it.
"I'm here, I'm here!" I cried, shoving my ticket at her. My mouth opened and desperately gasped for air.
She hurriedly scans through it, and with an unimpressed look, she lets me through.
I stumbled into the plane, chest heaving as I made my way down the aisle. I let out a deep sigh of relief as I collapsed into my seat, grateful for a time to catch my breath.
I retrieved my phone from my blazer to missed calls and unread messages—all from Xavier. My heart skipped as I scrolled through his texts. My fingers hovered over the call log, ready to call back when the announcement went off.
"Passengers, please ensure all devices are turned off as we prepare for takeoff."
I hissed, biting on my lower lip. There was no time to explain, at least not yet. With one last glance at his name, I pressed down on the power button, and leaned back against my seat.
New York, here I come.