Ghouls

I got through customs okay and soon found myself at duty-free. It was quarter to 3 and, in my eyes, I’d got there by the skin of my teeth. I’d managed to find the time to have a quick beer before my flight was called. I quickly grabbed my hand luggage and made my way to the gate which my flight would be leaving from. The crew slowly started letting people board the plane. It seemed like forever before they called me out and I was let through. I got through the gate and walked the long, steel corridor to the door of the plane. Once there, the cabin crew directed me to my seat, next to a window (I’d asked Cam specifically for a window seat in fear of getting claustrophobic; particularly with having to sit next to a stranger and I hoped that being able to look out to the clouds would make things a lil easier.)

Soon after, a tall, bearded, dark haired man donning an old Megadeth shirt took the seat beside me with a fantastic smile. I returned the smile and shuffled myself to let him sit.

After a few fairly awkward moments, “Hey.. Avenged Sevenfold fan, are we?” he leant in and said quietly, motioning his eyes to the iPod I held firmly in my hands.

I panicked. What was I supposed to say without either seeming like an obsessed groupie or like I was trying to impress him by bigging myself up? I decided to try and make my relationships with the band smaller than they were in an attempt to not seem like a prick.

“Yeah, they’re good, I guess,” I smiled weakly as I looked back down at the scrolling band name on the screen of the iPod.

“Must be a pretty big guess if you’re travelling all the way from LA to Chicago with a VIP pass for one of their shows,” he smiled cockily, reminding me vaguely of Brian.

Alas, I had been caught out, I smiled, “yeeah, my brother’s their roadie, I’m meeting him out there,” I replied with a defeated smile.

“Dude, that’s awesome! So, does that mean you’ve met the band? I’m not gonna lie, I’m a fairly big fan myself,” he grinned.

“Yeah, once or twice, I’m not really close with them though,” I lied; me and Bri were pretty close...

“Still, that’s so cool,” he smiled at himself.

There was a silence.

“So, what are you doing travelling to Chicago?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m heading back; I live in Chicago; I was in LA for work,” he smiled.

I blushed slightly in embarrassment for assuming, “aaah.... so what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer,” he nodded.

“Odd, you don’t seem the conservative type..”

“How come?” he quizzed.

I panicked again, how was I supposed to answer now without seeming like a judgemental ass? “Oh, it’s just... the.. the tattoos and the shirt and –“

He laughed, “fair do’s; I must admit, it’s the only bad bit of the job; I kinda have to cover up my true self a lot for my job,” he smiled, “the only side I do get to show is my argumentative side,” we chuckled.

Another silence.

“What about you? What do you do?” he asked.

“Oh,” my heart sank a lil’ I didn’t have any great, big, high-paying job; I was about to be made to look like a real scrounging un-achiever, in comparison to him, “I’m... I’m a mechanic...”

“Awesome! I love cars! Hot-rod’s are great,” he smiled, “my Dad was a huge car fan; he used to race,” he reminisced, “... he used to take me out with him when I was a kid....”

Something inside me told me that his Dad wasn’t around anymore; the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes suggested loss as his body was now slumped. I would’ve asked if it not for the overwhelming feeling that this wasn’t a question I should be asking.

“Sounds great,” I smiled at him, earning a smile in return.

More silence.

“So, where are you from? You definitely don’t sound local,” he asked, trying to get himself out of the slump that he’d arrived in when talking about his Dad.

“England, originally, but it sucked a lot so I’ve moved to Cali to be with my brother,” I nodded.

“Awesome! I’ve always wanted to visit England.. how come you left?”

“Family...”

He seemed to get the message quickly as I looked away, immediately realising that this wasn’t a conversation that we should pursue, much like I was with his father.

“So, how are you liking America?” he smiled cockily.

“It’s great, it’s been difficult adjusting but it’s worth it,” I smiled, a sense of acceptance and warmth rushing over me as I finally felt that I was enjoying living here.

Notes