Sighs of frustration and annoyance could be heard down the standing line of people as they waited their turn to go through security check for TSA. It was two o'clock in the afternoon at JFK Airport and it was safe to say that the security line was the equivalent to New York City traffic at this point. It's not rocket science that the TSA security checks can take forever at any airport, but this was ridiculous.
"Yes Quinn, I'm aware that we're on a deadline. Writer's Block is Writer's Block, it happens."
"Yeah, well you need to tell it to go fuck itself because it's about to cost us a lot of money. Figure it out Santana!"
"Uh hello?! Why the hell else would I be going to Texas? I seriously can't believe that you're sending me there of all places by the way. I really don't see how cowboy boots and hats are going to help" She said in exasperation as she inspected her nails.
"The story is set in the south. You're from the East Coast. You're getting writers block, because you don't know the first damn thing about people in the South." Quinn replied condescendingly.
"You know, you can be a real condescending asshole sometimes"
"I just keep it real. It's the reason why you chose me to represent you and why we've been friends for years. You'll get over it." Santana rolled her eyes to the truth of the statement. "Have you made it to the gate yet? I hope you know that as highly as you think of yourself, that plane isn't gonna wait on you" Quinn finished.
"Yes I am aware of that thank you. I'm still stuck in the security check line" Santana said in annoyance.
"Has it moved at all since you called me twenty minutes ago? I would have thought that you would be close to the actual security guards by now?"
"Yeah well, I haven't really moved so much as about five feet. I have no clue what's going on but they need to hurry their shit up." Leaning out the right side of the line, the writer searched for the chink in the chain that was responsible for holding up traffic. There, all the way at the front of the line she could just barely make out a girl frantically trying to empty all of her items in four different security bins. The girl walked through the metal detector, causing it to go off again. This had happened about five times already. The sound of the metal detector alarm caused the whole line of people to release another groan of agitation.
"Hey lady, how about you get your shit together and THEN get in line!?" shouted a guy a few people ahead of the writer. She knew how these things went. Someone opened their big ass mouth and then a shouting match would start, adding another 10 minutes to this impossibly never ending wait. To her surprise the girl looked back over the guy and simple gave him an embarrassed smile and wave of apology. 'Oh she's definitely not from New York' the writer thought to herself.
"Hello?! Earth to Satan, are you still there!?" Quinn yelled through the earpiece of the writer's headset causing her to wince in pain.
"Ow! Jesus Quinn, why are you yelling? Yes I'm here, but I gotta go, I think the line's moving."
"Thank god. Call me when you land in Texas."
"Okay mother." She snapped as she hung up the phone.
The line finally began moving along steadily, allowing Santana to approach the security scanners. Putting her bag and shoes in the security bins, she suddenly had that feeling that someone was staring at her. Sure enough there stood the guard at the scanner, watching her intently and offering a smile when she turned and made eye contact. 'Jesus, here we go', she thought as she prepared the most bored look possible on her face.
"'Ay Mami, I just want you to know that if you prefer, we can do a body search. You know, if you're not comf'table with the scanner and radiation." The TSA guard said to her quietly with a smirk.
"Yeaaaah, I'll take my chances. Thanks." Santana responded shortly, brushing past the guard and stepping into the scanner. A few of the other TSA guards laughed at seeing their co-worker being turned down so quickly. That's how it is in New York. So much hustle and bustle, so many people coming and going at all hours of the night and day. It's hard to blame someone for trying their luck. Gathering her things, the young writer merged with the crowd looking for the first possible sign of coffee.
Finding an open table in airport coffee shops were like finding gold in mud sometimes. Usually most were forced to sit at the coffee bar, on the uncomfortable stool that was bolted to the ground. It's extremely inconvenient if you're outside of what is considered the "normal height". It would always end with you either being too far away if you're short or far too close and cramped if you have longer legs. The writer saw this little bit of gold as a good find, and was even more grateful of its location in the back corner of the coffee shop area. Setting her backpack and laptop bag on the chair next to her, she took a moment to relish in the feeling of being able to sit down and not be in a rush. The first sip of coffee had to have been the best thing that had happened to her this whole day and it was already almost noon. It was unlike the girl to go this long without at least one cup of coffee in the morning. For the writer, coffee was essential first thing in the morning if anything was to be accomplished and no one was to be killed. Setting down her cup she sat for a moment watching people as they passed by whether in a rush for their connection or looking like lost puppies trying to find their gate. 'People, such interesting beings', she thought. All so different and unique in the way they talk, act and feel. It's so easy for there to be a person for every different combination.
"So why is it so fucking hard to write a damn story about them!?" she huffed quietly to herself.
Looking at her watch she figured she had about an hour before she probably needed to start heading over to her gate. Taking her laptop out of her bag, she opened the device bringing the screen to life, showing the blank page that has been mocking her for the past two weeks.
"Ok Santana, just one scene. It's not that fucking hard, just write", she encourages herself.
Thirty minutes has passed and the first page is almost just as empty as it was when she first opened her computer. If the writer had a nickel for every time she pushed the backspace button, well she figured she would be stuck with a shit ton of nickels. With a sigh of frustration the writer sat back in her seat and took a moment to watch the people around her again and in a split second there it was, inspiration! That was the funny thing about writers and writing in general, it was usually the most random things that would boost the inspiration for whatever content they needed. For Santana it was something as simple as a couple walking down the terminal holding hands, while the guy carried what she assumed was his wife's bags and purse in addition to his own backpack. Taking a quick swig from her coffee cup, Santana started clicking away on her laptop. It wasn't book worthy, it wasn't all in order, it definitely would not make it past Kurt's editing, but it was story content and something that she could hopefully build off of. Fifteen minutes later and she was still on a roll.
"Um, excuse me?" the new presence startled the writer after becoming immersed in her story.
"Huh?" she looked up into the bluest eyes.
"Hi, I'm really sorry to interrupt you. I was wondering if I could borrow your phone charger for just a minute. My phone is about to die, and I lost mine." The girl asked with a sheepish, hopeful look. It took her a moment but Santana recognized her as the girl that was holding up the security line earlier.
"Uh, yeah I guess" the writer agreed as she removed the charger from her phone and handed the connection to the girl.
"Thank you so much" she said with relief. "I hate flying, I always have the worst luck ever."
"You don't say" Santana muttered under her breath.
"So where are you headed to?" the blue eyed girl asked her while looking through her phone. If it was one thing that the author wasn't a fan of it was small talk. She just wasn't good at it. In fact she really wasn't all that great with talking to people in general. The only people that she really ever spoke to was her Aunt, her editor Kurt and her best friend/manager Quinn. When you broke it down, her aunt is family so there isn't a choice there, and both Kurt and Quinn never really gave her an option either. That was the best part about writing books, aside from interviews and book promotions, you didn't have to deal with people. Her progression with the story however had put her in a good mood, so why the hell not have some small talk she reasoned.
"I'm headed to Dal-"she was cut off abruptly as the other girls phone rang loudly.
"Agh, I'm sorry I kind of have to take this" she apologized while swiping her finger across the screen of her phone.
"Uh huh" she muttered in annoyance. '…and this is why talking to strangers is pointless', she thought to herself as she returned to her computer.
"Hello? Hey Aubrey how is everything?!" the girl spoke into the phone.
'Why are some people so damn cheery on the phone? If I answered Quinn's phone calls like that, she would probably think that I was on drugs' Santana thought as she pretended to be focusing on her computer screen and not eaves dropping on this stranger's phone call.
"Dammit, yeah I forgot to tell you that they do that sometimes. Don't worry though, Watson likes it when Henry picks him up by the neck. Just don't let Henry get too excited to where he starts shaking his head back and forth."
'What the fuck?' Santana continued to stare at her computer screen a little more intensely as the phone conversation continued and got weirder and weirder. Between some person named Henry picking up some guy named Watson by the neck, the neighbors pipes needing to be cleaned out, and something about waxing down Mr. Palmer, Santana was beginning to think that this girl worked as some sort of sex escort. She hadn't realized that she was staring at the girl with an incredulous look until she noted that the phone conversation was coming to an end.
"I'll be home soon, I think my flight will be boarding in a few minutes. Just keep holding the fort down until I get home."
Snapping her attention back to her computer as the girl ended her phone call she pretended to be busily typing away.
"Thanks for letting me borrow your charger. Sorry for running, but I think that I'm about to board" she said in a rush as she gathered her things.
"Uh huh, no problem." She said skeptically only looking at the girl from the corner of her eye.
"Have a great day, and safe travels!" she said cheerily as she walked away.
"Yep you too" she said with a brief waive "….You psycho" she finished to herself once she was sure that the girl was out of ear shot. She definitely was not expecting that type of a conversation from someone that…well…pretty. 'You just really never know about people now a days' she thought to herself. Looking at the clock on her laptop, she figured that it was about time to head over to her gate.
As much as it sucked being away from her home during book tours, Santana was reminded of how much it paid off in frequent flyer perks. Part of racking up so many flyer miles meant that the author gained flyer status, a status which allowed for free upgrades to business and first class away from the people with unusually strong body odor and crying babies.
Santana walked up to the gate attendant, handing him her airline ticket to scan after an announcement on the intercom called for business class flyers to load the aircraft. Walking down the loading ramp, the writer said a small thanks to herself that at least she was being sent somewhere that would be warmer than New York was at the moment. After boarding the plane and placing her carry on in the overhead compartment, the writer secured her seat belt and pulled out her newspaper to pass the time while all the rest of the airplane occupants boarded to their seats.
"Good afternoon Ms. Lopez, could I offer you something to drink while you wait?" a young flight steward offered with a kind smile. Yep, Business Class is awesome. Santana would honestly be lying if she ever said that she didn't enjoy the material things. Not to say that she relied completely on being materialistic, but she worked hard to get where she was as a writer so reaping the benefits was definitely something she had no guilt in taking advantage of every now and again.
"Just a coffee please" she requested while returning the young man's smile. He was cute she decided. If she floated down the straight path, she probably would've put on the lady charm. After receiving her coffee from the flight attendant, the author continued to read over her copy of the New York Times. Specifically the current Best-Sellers list. There were a few author articles with some book reviews scattered here and there, she skimmed over them until one specific one caught her eye.
One Hit Wonder? – By Lawrence West
We all swooned over the 'Enemies and Lovers' book saga from author Santana Lopez, but is this semi- talented author just one more to add to our Best Seller's One Hit Wonder list? We first began the journey with her love saga four years ago as the first installment left us all wanting more. Six books, a completed series and two movies later, we were all certain that she was one of the few that would hit the history books. After previously being named the next possible Nicholas Sparks of love and comedy stories, we're now wondering if perhaps someone jumped the gun. Ms. Lopez has released two other books since the 'Enemies and Lovers' series, and well to say the general public was disappointed would just be compliment to the author. Sources have reported that the author is currently working on her next piece that is due to release early summer of next year. Should we bother crossing our fingers? Let's hope that Ms. Lopez will allow a release on e-books, because we're sure that $3.99 will hurt our wallets a lot less than $20.99 for a hard cover flop that will just collect dust on a bookshelf.
"This mother fucker" Santana muttered under her breath and she snatched out the page from the rest of the bundle and proceeded to crumple it into a ball before throwing the bunched paper to the floor. What the hell did Lawrence West know?! The guy was an ass. She knew that first hand after having to interview with him every time that one of her books hit the top seller list. He called himself a book critic, but all he really was is a thirty something year old virgin who probably still lives at home with his mother. Thick rimmed glasses, well gelled hair and a fancy cardigan doesn't make you classy or sophisticated. Lawrence West may as well just be the Perez Hilton of writing industry. What did this prick know anyways? With a huff Santana ripped the page out of the paper stack, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the floor. She flipped over the next page of the paper, hoping something else amusing would take her mind off of her review and calm her down. The captain came on over the intercom welcoming everyone on board for the flight. Santana listened with half of her attention while the flight crew went over all safety instructions with the aircraft.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, please ensure that your seat belts are safely fastened. We hope that you enjoy your ride with us." The captain said cheerfully, "Flight crew please prepare for takeoff".
Santana flipped through a couple more pages of the newspaper in boredom before folding the paper down with a huff and stuffing it down into the pocket in front of the seat. Propping her head in her elbow, she stared out the window. As much as she hated Lawrence West, she hated more that he had voiced her biggest fears. Maybe it wasn't the lack of inspiration causing the writer's block so much as the writer's talent itself. A few more minutes went by until the writer realized that they had asked to prepare for takeoff, but yet the plane had still yet to move and inch. Taking a moment to turn and look around her, it was obvious that the rest of the plane occupants were starting the wonder the same thing. A soft murmur amongst the aircraft was starting to stir.
"Ladies and Gentleman, this is your captain speaking. Apologies on the delay, we've got one more passenger that will be joining us. We appreciate your patience as we wait for them to make their way down the loading dock."
"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me" the writer sighed and she glanced at her watch. It wasn't like she had anywhere to be per se, but waiting on people annoyed the shit out of her. If you know you have somewhere to be, then be there on time. Santana reached over to her purse and pulled her phone out, swiping her finger across the screen before scanning through her social media apps.
"Excuse me Ms. Lopez?" the flight steward interrupted her trolling. Remembering her manners she looked up with a smile.
"Oh hi, yes?"
"I'm so sorry to bother you Ms. Lopez. I know that you had requested to have this side row to yourself, but we have to unfortunately ask if you would be so kind as to allow this young lady to sit next to you." He said hopefully with a slight flinch. 'Man what type of shitty people does he deal with to make him flinch before ending his sentence?' Santana was still annoyed at the fact that she was about to have to give up her holy solitude for the four hour flight, but the flight steward was a nice kid and she had had enough time for her coffee to process.
"Oh, uh yeah sure. No problem" she said quickly while removing her purse from the aisle seat next to her.
"Thank you so much ma'am." He smiled in gratitude. "Was there anything else that I could get you before we take off?"
"No I'm fine, thank you" she smiled before leaning down to place her purse in the bin below her chair. By the time she had gotten her stuff situated she looked up only see the pale, bare torso of a female while she was reaching to put her things in the overhead compartment. After a few seconds of struggle, her slender, toned arms pushed the overhead bin up as it locked into place. It wasn't until that moment that Santana had realized that she had been staring, and now there was a smiling face staring back at her. Her recognition sensors flipped on as she noticed the person in front of her as the girl that borrowed her charger back in the airport coffee shop. 'Why am I not even surprised?' the writer thought.
"You again." the girl said with a cheery smile as she sat down and buckled herself in.
"Hi" Santana returned with a small smile.
"I swear I just can't catch a break" the blue-eyed girl laughed. "Thanks for letting me sit next to you"
"Yeah, no problem." The writer responded without much enthusiasm while directing her attention back to the window. 'Please dear god let her not be a talker' she thought to herself.
"My name is Brittany by the way" the girl mentioned while extending her hand over the arm rest. Looking over her shoulder to the out stretched hand, Santana hesitated slightly before turning slightly to shake the girl's hand. The hesitation probably seemed slightly rude, but she threw in a small smile to redeem her actions. It's not that she really cared if someone thought that she was rude, but it was these moments that she would hear her aunt's voice yelling at her in her ear. When Santana's name began to receive attention for her success with her writings, her aunt sat her down one evening to drill in ethic codes. 'Just because you're successful does not mean you can treat other people like shit' she would say to the writer with a pointed stare. Thinking back on the moment made her want to laugh. Her aunt almost never cussed a word in her life, at least not around Santana. Hearing her aunt cuss was foreign and comedic.
"Santana" the writer confirmed in response as she released Brittany's hand.
"Nice to meet you"
"Yep" she said before turning back towards the window. Okay so maybe she could still be a little rude sometimes. It's not that she didn't like this Brittany person, she just all around didn't feel like making human contact with anyone. Everyone has those days right? And as much as she didn't want to admit it, that news article was bugging at her. She could feel it mocking her from where she threw it on the floor. Maybe it wasn't too late to ask that flight attendant kid to throw it away for her. Looking around on the floor board she noticed that the crumpled ball of paper was no longer anywhere to be found. The sound of paper snapping open from next to her caught her attention. The captain came on over the intercom before Santana had the chance to make a comment to Brittany who was now reading through the discarded newspaper page.
"Flight crew please prepare for take-off"
The plane began lurching forward, quickly picking up speed as they began down the runway.
"Ugh I hate this part" Brittany commented as she squeezed her eyes shut. "It's like being on a roller coaster. You keep climbing and your stomach starts crawling up your throat, because you know that any moment you're going to drop"
"Uh huh" Santana mumbled while giving the girl a look from the corner of her eye. She was seriously hoping that she would not be forced to engage in conversation with this girl for the next four hours. Truth be told, this was actually the writers favorite part of the flight. This is where the writer felt most calm as she watched the cars and houses below getting smaller and smaller. It was just a reminder to her that the world was a big place, and whatever issues she was having were very little in comparison to what they could be. Her Zen moment was immediately interrupted however as humming started coming from over her left shoulder. Rolling her eyes, she figured now was as good a time for another attempt at that first chapter she was working on back in the airport. Dragging her laptop out from her bag she set the computer on her lap while waiting for the screen to come to life.
"Dang, this Lawrence West guy is kind of a dick" Brittany commented.
"You don't say" Santana grumbled as she started typing on her laptop.
Brittany looked back and forth from Santana, to her laptop, to Santana and back to her news article. The light bulb clicked. "Wait a second, you said your name was Santana right?"
"Yes that is my name" the writer responded in slight annoyance. 'Looks like someone connected the dots' she thought.
"So that wouldn't happen to be Santana as in Santana Lopez the writer would it?" Brittany offered in curiosity.
Taking a small breath to herself and fixing her attitude she turned towards the girl, "Yep that's me" she said with a small smile.
"Well damn, no wonder you're so pissy". That was definitely not the comment or reaction that Santana had prepared herself for.
"Excuse me?" she questioned.
"I've been trying to talk to you and you just mumble something grumpy. Now I understand though, I would be pretty pissed too if someone tried to call me or my work a one hit wonder. Although, I did read your last few books."
"Uh thanks? What's that supposed to mean?" she asked while turning to face Brittany with her arms crossed over her chest.
"I mean it's nothing bad. The just felt like they were missing…..something" Brittany reasoned cautiously.
"Yeah well, apparently you're not the only one that feels that way" she said while turning back to her laptop. Brittany took a moment to decipher if she should carry on with the conversation or leave the writer be. Looking back at the nasty review she folded the paper neatly and stowed it underneath her seat. This was obviously a very sore subject for the writer, and she was already in a bad mood. Now would probably be the best time ever for a nap. She already knew there wouldn't be much time for rest once they landed.
Almost three hours had passed since they had left New York City and made their way towards Dallas, Texas. Two and a half of those three hours Santana had spent on a writing frenzy while having a stranger sleeping on her shoulder. When Brittany had first unconsciously leaned her head on Santana's shoulder the writer freaked out a little. It wasn't so much for the fact that there was a girl leaning on her so much as it was a complete stranger who may or may not have insulted her most recent work. She was still trying to figure out that last part. After a few unsuccessful attempts of getting the girl off of her shoulder, she just gave up. A movie was playing during the flight and as the writer felt herself sinking into the block again but then there it was…inspiration. A stupid joke that one of the characters in the movie made sparked the magic again. She had been typing furiously ever since. She stopped for a brief moment to inventory her page and word counts. There was a science to this writing thing.
"That doesn't make sense"
The sudden comment from the stranger on her should who she thought was sleeping practically scared her right out of her seat.
"Holy shit!"
"That part that you wrote on page three, it doesn't make sense. That would never happen in real life." The blonde girl explained further.
"What do you mean it would never happen in real life?!" she questioned in offense while trying to control her heart rate back to normal. 'What the hell does this girl know about what can and can't happen in real life?'
"People can't just meet for the first time and there be a 'spark' "she said using hand quotes for emphasis.
"A- The point is to dramatize it for the book and story; B- How do you know that there couldn't be a 'spark'? And why the hell am I having to explain myself to you? Are you a bestselling author?" Santana retaliated in a huff.
"No I'm not a bestselling author, but I know real life…and that would not happen in real life. If you want people to connect and bond with your characters, then it needs to be something that they could actually see happening in real life. You can't just meet someone for five seconds and immediately fall madly in love. The world doesn't work like that." She reasoned.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will be landing in 5 minutes. Please ensure that you are back in your seats with your seat belt safely fastened."
"Whatever" Santana sighed in annoyance while she shut her laptop and situated her bag back under her seat. Brittany shook her head slightly, she felt bad for whoever had the task of giving the author back the review and edits. The last few minutes of the flight was spent in silence as Santana stared out of the window while Brittany's attention was caught by one of the flight attendants sitting a few rows ahead of them in their designated seats for landing and take-off.
Second best thing about flying Business Class, you got to exit the plane first. After waiting for Brittany to get her crap out of the overhead compartment, Santana wasted no time at all in getting to baggage claim. She felt a presence next her as she scanned for her suitcase in the passing luggage on the conveyer belt. Taking a glance to her right she was able to confirm her guess on who it was.
"Hey Santana, I'm sorry if I offended you back in the plane. I'm sure that this is going to be a good book" Brittany offered with a smile.
"It's no big" she said with little emotion.
"Right, well… I wish you the best of luck" she said with a small nod as she turned around and walked away. Santana sighed in annoyance with herself. She was rude even when she didn't exactly want to be rude. Recognizing her luggage as it moved closer to her on the conveyer belt, Santana reached out and yanked it off of the conveyer. Walking out towards the exit she located a man in a crisp black suit holding an iPad with her name on it. Making eye contact with him, she gave him a quick smile and nod. Once receiving a visual confirmation, he walked towards her taking her luggage and bags from her.
"Good evening Ms. Lopez, my name is Marcus. I will be driving you to your hotel and any other places that you wish to visit during your stay here in Dallas. Welcome to Texas by the way ma'am." He greeted with a large smile.
"Thank you Marcus. If we could just go to the hotel first please"
"Absolutely, please follow me this way ma'am" he said while leading her out the exit doors and to a black Mercedes parked on the side of the curb. He opened the back door for her to enter, closing it once she was tucked away and progressed to stow all her luggage in the trunk of the car. Santana took the moment to call Quinn.
"Please tell me you made it to Texas"
"Well hello to you to, no the plane didn't crash and yes I'm still alive. My driver Marcus just picked me up"
"Good. Call me when you make it to the hotel –click"
"Yep, love you too Quinn….ass"