For the rest of the flight, I spend it either talking to Tyler or sleeping, there really was no in between. Turns out, he's a student in Los Angeles, studying in a small community college for tectonic plates placement and future wave currents. He's a surfer, born and raised in California but was in Nashville to visit his grandpa for a couple weeks. He also promised to show me around if I wanted to see the sights and gave me his number. See, this is where I'm going to get confused. Did he mean it as a pickup like 'show you around' as a date or 'show you around' as a friendly settling in gesture? This is the kind've stuff I'm going to worry about.
When we had both gotten off at the gates, we had gone two seperate ways and any kind of attraction I had to him went with him. I was left in my own confusion and disarray of where my driver the Scoop sent, and of what was going on in LAX airport.
Eventually, I get outside, I simply stand in the front entrance for a moment and take a couple breaths of the cool, mid-summer air for a few minutes.
My mother was the one who taught me to steal moments like this, moments of freedom and serenity, kind've like how I feel in my photography. And then they end because all good things come to an end, and I'm brought back to reality, usually by someone's voice, now to several peoples voices along with several car horns and engines.
A sign with my name tapered on it catches my eye and I lug my stuff his way, smiling when our eyes meet. I've never had a driver, especially one in such a big city, it's crazy even to think about.
"Miss Swift?" The driver asks when he's sure I'm coming toward him. Without an immediate confirmation, he takes the illusive duffle bag that always ends up troubling me and stuffs it into the truck.
"Yes sir, nice to meet you," I say politely, sliding into the back seat.
"You as well. First time in LA?" He asks after he settles into his seat.
I laugh, pushing my bangs back a little. "Yes, is it obvious?"
"Not obvious, just noticeable," He smiles in the rear view mirror. I wouldn't be surprised to be honest, this whole city, as it flies by through my window, is amazing. The people along the streets shopping mix with skate-boarders and guys carrying surfboards. And it's hot; I found that out the second I stepped outside. So different from the brisk Tennessee air that seemed to be having a chillier summer than most. But here, I'm just going to go out on a limb and guess it's always hot. For some reason, I also think that my pale skin will be tanned by the time I return back home. But for now, I'll just have to deal with the heat.
I pay the man and step out of the car, thanking him once more after he sets my stuff down on the curb, and I get a curt nod in response before he drives off. Almost as soon as my bags touch the sidewalk, two large, built men grab them while I am greeted by a thinner man with a moustache.
"Hello, how are you today?" He says politely, with a hint of an accent.
"Hi. I'm great, thank you, and you?" I smile, watching the two men carry my bags to a cart, returning soon after for the ones that strangle my neck.
"Perfect, thank you. Do you have a reservation?" He says.
"Yes sir, it should be under Swift for the Scoop Magazine?" He taps around on his ipad before looking back at me. I can't help but look at the huge awning above us that had gathered a crowd of cars waiting to be valeted. It was beautiful, even from the outside, I had never seen anything like the architecture.
"Ah, yes. A suite. Just go to the desk right inside and they'll give you your key. Richie will take your stuff up right behind you," He jerks a head toward one of the two men who hasn't followed his partner away. Richie smiles politely at the recognition.
