Behind The Scenes

46. Hero

The stewardess is giving the usual indications on how to fasten the seat belts and all those useless things that will be needed half a time out of seventy billion.
Luckily we have Delta's premium select side seats, I hate center seats.
I've got Jo to sit on the side of the window, so when we fly over London tomorrow morning she can watch it.
"How do you feel?" I ask, intertwining my fingers with hers.
"I have some anxiety, but in a good way," she laughs nervously.
"You've made a very long journey from Perth to Atlanta and are anxious about only 11 hours of flight?" I giggle.
"It's not for the flight."
For what then?
"It's for your mother, your relatives, your friends..." she explains herself.
"Oh, stay calm, I already know they'll love you," I reassure her and kiss the back of her hand.
She smiles at me and suddenly her smile fades in her face.
"Are you okay?" I raise my eyebrows.
"Yes... but I won't see that... Chantal, will I?" she asks in an imperceptibly sad tone.
"Fuck, no. Of course not, absolutely. We don't talk to each other anymore and I'll never talk to her again, I can assure you."
That bitch, I hate her.
She almost managed to ruin everything, but the love was strong enough, luckily.
I never want to see her again either, even my friends cut off relations with her after they knew what had happened. They still wonder why I was dealing with her, and I wonder too. Poor boy, I was a fool.
Jo sighs and looks out the window.
After a good half hour, once all passengers are on board, the plane is ready for take-off.
We have already turned off our mobile phones when the usual hateful taxiing noise begins to be heard.
The gimmick that saves a lot of time to cross half the planet starts to move and I kiss my girlfriend. It's our first vacation together, even though London is home to me, but she's never been there.
The plane has taken off and Jo looks down.
"You like to travel, don't you?" I ask her suddenly.
Without taking her gaze off what she is observing out there, she replies: "Yes, a lot. You?"
"Also."
"Perfect, next step then?" she turns and the blonde waves of her soft hair sway.
"Mhm..." I touch my chin with my fingers, "what do you think of New York?"
"I went there when I was six or seven, I'd like to go back one day."
"Sold," and I extend my hand to confirm our deal.
She shakes it and it is done.
New York is really beautiful, especially in winter in my opinion. In California it never snows, not even if the whole world were praying to God, even Ariana Grande begged with him in one of her Christmas songs from 2013, but nothing.
Summer is beautiful, yes, there are parties, friends... but after a while it becomes stressful. Same thing in winter, it's relaxing, the cozy warmth at home, the desserts, the Christmas Pudding... but even it, after a while, becomes boring, not stressful for sure. I can't honestly choose between the two seasons.
Jo fell asleep with her head on my shoulder, her hair tied in a high, messy bun. I love it when she has hair like that.
There are still a lot of hours left and so I decide to take a nap too.

"Hero? Hero? Hero!"
I'm dreaming?
Someone shakes me off my shoulder.
"Wake up!"
I rub my eyes. "What the fuck...?"
"They served food, I got something for you too. I don't know what it is but let's taste it anyway," Jo tells me, but I'm not sure I understand it, she woke me up so suddenly.
"Did they serve food?" I ask confused.
"Yeah, that's what I just told you," she chuckles. "Open the coffee table."
I do it and she puts on it a hot tub of I don't know what crap and a glass of beer... the beer in the plastic cup no, that's disgusting. On the plane I honestly don't think they can use glass, but it sucks all the same.
Jo has the same tub as mine but she took the Coke.
When I remove the wrapper, similar to that of yoghurt, steam comes out of there.
But what is it?
"Looks like... mashed potatoes?" Jo says, unsure. "And the one next to it is chicken, I believe."
I scan that yellow baby food. "I don't know, shall we taste?"
She nods and sticks her fork into the meat. "Mhm," she begins with her mouth full, "it's chicken."
I take some of that thing that seems mashed potatoes and put it in my mouth. "And this is mashed potatoes, yes."
It's not that bad, but it tastes almost nothing, neither mashed potatoes nor chicken.
After we finish eating — so to speak — , the steward goes to collect the scraps, and therefore also ours.
We decide to watch the Pirates of the Caribbean but we fall asleep with our heads on each other's shoulder, it's funny the way we are.
Not long, about two hours.