Putting down my favorite Fjallraven backpack on the shiny floor of the Airport, calmly searching for my airpods inside it, knowing this would be a hell of a long trip ahead, and without music, it would be a boring journey guaranteed. Other than that, I had packed down the crossword book (not that I actually solve them though) a fashion magazine for some outfit inspiration, cardholder, passport holder, flight ticket, of course, my camera around my neck and my travel pillow. Happy and sated, dreaming away to the new country I'm about to visit. I was nervous but at the same time hyper. Imagine all the iconic narrow and tall lined palm trees on the streets of LA, the classical Hollywood sign suspended on the top of the mountains, the warm climate, the long beach, the famous celebs, the warm citizens, and the delighted American accent, it was like a movie but in reality, the more I dug deeper in my imaginations, the more impatient I became, longing for arrival.
Eyeing the information screen that was showing departure and arrivals on the timetable of different flight companies, I finally found mine, one hour left for departure. Luckily, the suitcase is already checked in at the baggage drop, one burden less to worry. Sitting on the uncomfortable plastic bench and watching the gloomy weather outside the AirPort, didn't make time to tick faster, therefore, I decided to get myself a cup of newly brewed coffee at the nearest coffee stall, luckily, there's one nearby where I'm residing.
It wasn't so crammed with people this time of the season. I've been traveling during summer by contrast, where there's jampacked with folks, almost impossible to walk through the AirPort. After ordering my Cappuccino in a takeaway mug, I went back to the benches to scan through my phone, noticing one missed call from mom and two messages from both her and Sara. I decided to call my mom first.
"Hallå." (Hello)
"Hej min kära Hollywood star!" (Hi my dear Hollywood star!)
Mother and her silly image, fancying about the "American dream" but I didn't want to let her down and carried on answering in jest.
"Vem vet, kanske blir jag nästa person som mottar Oscar." (Who knows, I might be the next person who receives Oscar)
I heard her laugh on the other end of the line.
"Jag ville bara ringa och önska dig lycka till, var väldigt försiktigt. Tala inte med främlingar, vistas inte på tomma å isolerade platser och..." (I just called to wish you good luck, be very careful. Don't speak to strangers and don't reside in empty and isolated places, and...)
"Jag vet allt detta mor." (I know all this, mother)
"Jag förvarnar bara, denna värld är grym, men jag är medveten om att du känner till försiktighetsprinciperna...jag vill bara att du kommer hem oskadd." (Just saying, this world is grim, but I bet you know all that... I just want you to be safe and return home intact, without any scratches or scars)
"Tack för din omtanke, morsan. Men det kommer inte att hända mig något, jag svär mitt liv på det." (Thank you for being considerate, mom. Nothing is going to happen, I swear my life on that)
She sounded content with my awareness of precautions.
I hung up after 20 minutes of conversing and were about to reply to my sister when I heard the announcement for the inlet to the aircraft. I message her once I land and slid the phone inside the pocket of my jeans.
"Dear passengers, the flight with American Airlines is ready for check-in at the desk A22, please check your seats for any remainings before checking in, thank you."
I hop up my seat, holding onto my backpack real tight, panting energetic, all ready for a takeoff from this current location.
The queue was long, standing in the middle among the crowd of all different ages, shapes, and heritage. I prayed that I wouldn't be seated next to a wailing newborn, cuz I can't tolerate them the slightest.
What if I really become a star? I thought, jumping straight to another topic. A price for the year's newcomer in the movie business, wouldn't be so bad actually. I look down at my camera then back up to my visualized scenario where I'm holding the price in my hand. Or for the best paparazzi, to have caught the most irrelevant pictures of celebrities, revealing their embarrassing and worst moments in history. I start to laugh instinctively at my own thought of Kim K, tripping over her dress in the middle of the street with her kid falling over in the most dramatic situation ever when the staff lady who checks the ticket at the desk snapped me out of it.
"Boarding pass, please."
Handing it over as she takes and tears off the element on the side of it.
"This is my first time traveling to the States," I say, enthusiastically.
"Really?" She smiles and gives the remaining of the ticket back to me. "I wish you a nice trip then."
"Thank you!" I respond joyful and skipped happily down the path that leads to the entrance of the airplane.
YOU ARE READING
Identical Tattoos
FanfictionA random story inspired by the Uncharted game franchise, with a totally, informal and kinda indifferent plot and writing style. The timezone takes place in today's century. I don't really have a proper storyline for this book tbh, I begin and see wh...
