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AnasAbdin
Show & Tell
ojovivo

Kaledo Art

roma★
Stranger Things

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Keni
noise dept.

Origami Around

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
occasionally subtle
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Kiana Khansmith
NASA
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
i don't do bad sauce passes
almost home
Cosmic Funnies
seen from Suriname
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@notanotherhyeon
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what? // c1
missgabriella-lopez:
Even in her stressed state, Brie wasn’t immune or ignoring the people around her, even if it faded into a kind of dull blur as she tried to figure out what she wanted to do. Did she have the money to book another last minute ticket? The answer to that would be hell no. She was going to be late. Ivy was going to kill her. Brie can picture her gravestone even now: Gabriella Marie Lopez, 27. Was an asshole and missed her sisters wedding. Rest in Regret.
Subtly a noise caught her attention and she peeked a bright green eye to her side. A handsome, clearly rich (she thought maybe she could smell the entitlement from here, though he seemed to be at least attempting to be polite). The dimples that tried to sneak out when he pouted did warm up his exterior to Brie a bit, and it made her want to suppress a bit of a giggle.
Nevertheless, he seemed to trying to get where she was, so it couldn’t hurt to ask - “Excuse me?” Brie tapped a finger on his navy suit that she was certain cost more than her apartment. “What flight are you going to catch? I was on the same flight as yours, you see,” The woman gestures to the board. “And I desperately have to get there by tonight. Any help would be greatly appreciated.”
As the clerk picked up the phone and engaged in a call with the control tower -- no doubt to get ahold of the local private flight coordinator, her keyboard clattered away as she handled his ticket information. “How would you like the refund?”
“Oh, just put it back on the card connected to it.”
“And the new flight, sir?”
Did he dare? Eh, why not? It’s not like his old man gives a damn anyway. Thumbing his wallet out from an inside pocket of his jacket, he slid over his driver’s license. “I believe this is connected to one of your company’s accounts, Sebastian Hyeon? There should be more than enough miles to cover the trip, please and thank you.”
Carefully watching as the changes were being made, he concentration was broken by someone next to him. Glancing over casually, dark eyes scanning the young woman attempting to catch his attention, a part of him internally went woof, woof. Beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, but if she got a more sleep at night and perhaps was dressed up a little better, she’d definitely be a twenty out of ten. Remaining attentive in spite of his fleeting attraction, he flashed a small smirk, “To cut to the chase, there’s a flight service option available for frequent travelers and their family should they dole enough shares in lovely companies like this one. Upon request, these investors can book one of their private planes at any time.”
There was a pause. Christian could easily snub her if he wanted to, but... she did look rather frantic, to a point that she’d dared to eavesdrop on someone else’s business in order to try and get her way. An admirable trait, even if a little foolhardy. “I suppose I can spare room, since you insist. I’m personally redirecting the path to Santa Monica if that’s alright?”
what? // c1
missgabriella-lopez:
An hour. That’s all the time she had until she absolute, positively, had to be on a plane. Brie tapped a booted foot against the floor of the waiting hour and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, frustration clearly written across her face. Dark brown hair, dip dyed blonde, is pulled up in a haphazard ponytail, one strand falling into her face. Tight jeans lead up to an off the shoulder periwinkle sweater that brings out the gold accents in her eyes.
The fact of the story was, Gabriella’s little sister Ivy was getting married in two days, and Brie was on the complete opposite coast from the wedding because she was a workaholic. She put off on buying the flight for months, weeks, trying to fit it into her monthly budget until the only one she could find from New York to California would land 4 hours before before Ivy’s rehearsal dinner, which, in retrospect, was a bad big sister move. She was very ashamed.
Point of the story is, here she was now, bridesmaid dress, rehearsal dress, and everything else she needs in a small carry on, and her flight was late. She’d been pacing for hours, getting more and more stressed, but enough was enough. Brie tucks her phone into her back pocket and goes to the customer help desk. “Hi, um, do you know when Flight 8374-B is taking off?”
The world weary assistant smiles tiredly. “Sure thing, miss.” She clicks some butons and then makes a disappointed noise under her breath. “Did you not hear the announcement earlier? They lost their pilot, so it’s leaving four hours later instead.” Four what now? Brie’s heart seized in her chest and she almost had an apoplexy.
“What?” she hisses quietly. “Oh, shit.” Brie slumps at the desk, head dropping, and silently starts to contemplate how she’s going to tell Ivy she’s going to be late.
A larger part of his brain had been spending quite a bit of time desperately wishing that the next few days would be the normal routine, but then again, he wouldn’t have things any other way. All appointments have been handled or moved around, the museum’s in proper hands should his trust in the new curator be well-placed, and the family handler’s notified to make sure to feed his rottweiler. Though it was only a small amount of time away, the responsibilities that came with managing the New-York Historical Society were immense.
Town car pulling up to the departure zone, he made sure to tip generously before taking his carry-on and briefcase. His appearance deceived nothing; practically seamless navy suit, just pressed dress shirt, shiny black Oxfords. The kerchief tucked in the front pocket was crisp white with an embroidered gold flower proudly displayed, though it held no meaning to the common observer. As he checked in, however, the immediate smile -- both nervous and polite -- said something more. Without a hitch, he checked in and was allowed to skip the security check, walking coolly through the terminals towards the back of the airport.
Despite his nonchalant exterior, the gentleman couldn’t help but be aware of every inch as he passed through, taking his sweet time as other travelers rushed past, only briefly recognizing his status as a businessman and making room for him to go through. Pulling up to customer help desk, he flashed a warm smile just like all the times before this one at the other attendant. “Miss Janet, is it? Could you tell me the progress of Flight 8374-B?”
“I’m afraid it’s been delayed for four hours, sir.”
The smallest tug of a pout formed on his lips. “That’s a pity...” He should’ve known to never trust good ol’ Vic, as kind as it was to pay for the first class seat, all that jazz. How many times did he have to tell the fellow alum that you could never trust a public flight? “Well, could you cancel the ticket for one, Christian Hyeon? And notify Mister Gregory at the private sector, tell him that his favorite customer is in dire need of a ride, please.”
SLYTHERIN: “Anger is just anger. It isn’t good. It isn’t bad. It just is. What you do with it is what matters. It’s like anything else. You can use it to build or to destroy. You just have to make the choice.” –Jim Butcher (The Dresden Files: White Night)