2 • 11:52 a.m.

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[11:52 a.m.]

Lucas handed the cashier five bucks. The woman behind the counter was stout, ebony-skinned, had puffy hair like that of a poodle's, and had a grin that stretched from ear to ear. She gingerly handed him the change, putting down the coins at the palm of his hand one by one, as if she was taking her time.

The cashier clearly had the hots for him.

"Thanks...Myrtle," he said, after taking a quick peek at her nameplate.

He was probably the first customer who called Myrtle by her name. People who would just come and go to buy something would always fail to acknowledge the employee's proper identity. His parents taught him otherwise.

"Lucas, if you're talking to someone, ask for their name. You'll do them a great favor," his mom once told him. She said it was a great way to let them know they exist.

"You are most welcome, sir. Have a good day!" Myrtle replied with full enthusiasm. Lucas then responded with a gracious smile. A little goes a long way.

Grabbing his change and his bought item, he left the candy store and started to walk towards the display system to look for his flight information.

"Los Angeles, Los Angeles, no, no, no, Boston—oh, there you are." He realized that he still had an hour to wait. Stepping away from the display system, his eyes scanned the area and sauntered to a vacant airport seat.

The airport terminal was one heck of a busy place. It reminded him of a public market place he once visited in Vietnam—crowded, noisy, always on the run. It didn't mean it was the kind of lifestyle he wasn't accustomed with, it wasn't just an everyday scenario for him.

His hometown was heavily relaxed—the ocean view was just minutes away from his house and there were no skyscrapers in sight. Neutral colors weren't really the most dominating scheme you see, cabs were not the most common mode of transportation, and almost everyone knew everyone who was living within territory, from his schoolmate's uncle's wife down to his friend's girlfriend's neighbor's pet golden retriever.

Despite the disparity, the days he spent in New York were nothing short of fun. His stay was rather interesting. He got to visit the iconic landmarks, ate the unhealthiest types of food, received the rudest remarks from the locals, and partied with one of the coolest college students he encountered for the first time. Adrenaline was in full throttle. New Yorkers had showed him a great time in just a short period.

Sooner or later, he was feeling the need for something sweet. Lucas pulled out the item from his pocket that he bought at the candy store—a bag of Skittles.

It was his most favorite candy.

He then stood up from his seat and decided to wander through the giant terminal when—bam, a figure accidentally bumped into him, his freshly-opened Skittles now scattered all over the floor. He looked down and examined the crime scene.

Lucas couldn't believe it.

He didn't even get to eat a piece of the fruit-flavored sweets.

"Oh, god!" a female voice shrieked, which made Lucas looked up. The female staggered to her feet, adjusting her red jacket.

Lucas wanted to throw her a mean look but his Adam's apple bobbed when he saw the face of the female.

Oh, hello there, Lucas thought. The female's heart-shaped face was contoured to a face of uncertainty. Her big, brown eyes widened, like a terrified owl.

A number of people were now staring at them, and a keen janitor was approaching their way. Soon enough, the show was over, and the people were back in their respective, mundane lives.

A few seconds later, a guy sporting a beanie tugged the female's sleeve. "Let's go, Ina," the guy said through gritted teeth, eventually wheeling the suitcase the female was gripping at when she bumped into Lucas.

"But his Skittles—" the female replied, who looked just as worried as Lucas was. The impatient guy—all decked in a black and gray hipster-like outfit—ignored her comment and continued to walk briskly through the crowd, leaving her alone with Lucas.

Realizing the action was probably implied for the female to come follow him—who was nowhere within eyesight anymore—she flashed Lucas a peace sign and hurriedly jogged away, hoping she would catch her companion.

He was most likely that unreasonable, jealous boyfriend who didn't want seeing her girl interacting with another human male. The guy probably thought the unintended bump was too much physical contact and Lucas was seen crossing the line.

Left with a curious mind and a janitor sweeping the floor beside him, Lucas rubbed his temples and turned around, gravitating towards the candy store. He had to buy another bag of Skittles.

It looked like it was Myrtle's lucky day.

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