chapter 2 all about food.

Of course I tried my very best to keep quiet and to be steady sitting in between two people whom I don't know. In fact I was contented with me spending my first hour in the plane watching a movie on my iPod, I can't remember what's showing on board, but I'm pretty sure it's a chick flick. Everything seemed normal until the flight attendant came into my view.

I may be not a psychologist but a psychologist would have said that the flight attendants were very anxious more like paranoid of the man seating beside me. A thought ran in my mind. What if he was on of a very important witness in a crime and some of his enemies send snakes in this planes cargo area, just like in the movie Snakes on a Plane. That would probably get me killed, or all of us, including the pilots and the crews. It gave me goose bumps.

But the next series of events gave me another idea.

When the flight attendants were giving of refreshments, the raven haired guy received a very different treatment. He was given a choice of sandwiches which he declined in return of a white wine while the rest of us were given Japanese nuts. 'Maybe he was the son of the prime minister, and or he owns the airport',I thought, but that would counter react the idea that he should have just gotten is own plane to fly with, if and only if he was that influential. Then their came of the modern mask, his shades.

For a moment, I was awestruck as he took of his—prada? shades. That was the first time I get to stare on his crimson orbs. I wonder I he still could remember that time, I'd try to ask him the next time I'd talk with him. I wasn't sure of why he took it off, maybe he grew tired of wearing it, or maybe he gets the feeling that I found his behavior pretty abnormal. Now that I think about it, it was fat chance. He was way too ignorant to have those as his reasons.

The next thing I remember is that he was reading the Time magazine, and I was reading The Last Song. I grew bored of rereading the book that I have read a countless of time so I brought it and started talking to Mr. George. His butler. I learned that he and his 'young master' came from London from a business trip taking a stopover in Bangkok just like me. And I spend the next half an hour listening from the old man how the right way to brew tea is. He really is a sweet man.

We talked about baking brownies, and that is where he dropped my favorite fact about Mr. Arrogant. As a sous cook, I may not be that good with pastries but I do know that brownies comes really well with nuts on top. So I give Mr. George the tip to add nuts on it.

"It would be better to add nuts with the brownies of course." I said casually, but instead of my expected response from him, he didn't say it was cool.

"Yes young lady, but the young master is allergic to nuts." I made a silent Oh' expression as I pointed my index finger at Mr. arrogant making sure he's the young master Mr. George was referring to.

He nodded in response, for an instant, I pity the crimson eyed lad. He's been missing a huge part of his life. But as what he had told to me one night we're eating at a restaurant, he can't possibly miss something he hadn't had before.

Then the main food came. It was choice between pork and chicken.

He chose pork, and I chose chicken. Grilled chicken with thick oyster sauce on top of it. Than they got me choose all the beverages that they have. Of course I chose my favorite, the orange juice. And that is what I like about planes. You would just have to sit and wait for foods to come. Always food.

I watched as the flight attendant served him his meal, the flight attendant served him his wine first. It was a vintage white wine, served with huge pieces of e. Then the most bizarre think happen. As the lady landed him his main dish, i happened to smell it. And there is no doubt I smelled peanut butter oil in it.

And I did the craziest thing—wait… let me rephrase

And I did 'one of the' craziest thing that I had done in front of him. I can remember how I pulled it away in his foldable table and take a little more sniff on it. They look at me weirdly, as if I was an amazon who came from—the jungle? Or if not, a monkey perhaps. Now that I think about it, I felt a little stupid, of myself, well at least if I haven't done it, I would have enjoy his look with red hives all over his body.

"You can't eat this." I said as I tried to change it with mine. 'goodbye my grilled chicken' that's what I thought. "This one is sautéed in peanut oil and has peanut butter on its sauce."

It was Mr. George who first recovered from the people around me. I can remember that all of his guard stared at me like an alien. "How do you say so young madam?"

"I'm a chef, I could tell. You better ask her if they really used nuts on it." I suggested as I pointed towards the awestricken flight attendant.

"We didn't know you were allergic to nuts sir." The other older flight attendant had told us. You should have seen her face. It was hilarious.

He said nothing but tight grip on his wineglass told me a different story. I knew one of his good characteristic by then, 'sometimes' he really is good in holding back 'a little' of his temper. But a bigger picture would drastically make me take that back.

"You can take mine; I'm sure its- nut free." And I threw him my smile, which I always knew work too well for him.

And yes… he didn't say 'thank you'. He wasn't really that fond of the word thanks, sometimes I even think it was not listed on his own private dictionary.

It was another hour till I grew tired of watching movie in my iPod, sharing recipe's with Mr. George and eating good food; I decided I would like to take a little nap. But as I was about to close my eyes the funniest thing happened.

I took a glimpse of his computer screen that made me tell him the stupidest thing he might have probably heard in his entire life, or maybe, right just at that moment.

"Are you a fan too?" I asked, and he gave me a very weird look. It was as if he was seeing someone who lived 10 years in the mountain and never happens to watch the television. And that look turned into irritation, as he asked me in return.

"Are you always this nosy too?" and he closed his laptop with his wallpaper of Yoichi Hyuuga, the most popular singer of our age. Some of his song even reached me in Paris. Girls love him—scratch that… girls worship him.

I gave him a guilty look, I had been rude gawking at his wallpaper, and I said, "Sorry, I just thought you're a fan." I remember Koko's trivial fact for that concert.

I looked at him straight to the face and told him, "Anyway I heard he was having this concert for his brother tonight."

"And?" he added.

"If you're a big fan, then I'd give my ticket to you." I said as I threw him my smile, he took consideration of my offer but instead of giving me a yes and ask for my ticket, he made me give my reason.

"You're a fan and you'd be giving me your tickets?" it wasn't a question, but every

"I'm not actually the fan, it was my friend." I answered as an image of Nonoko came into my mind.

"Don't get me wrong, I like that boy, he sings really well. But I don't want to be a third wheel in friend's couple dates." Then I took my bag from beneath my chair and pull out my tablet. He smirked as he saw my wallpaper, it a French cuisine our executive chef cooked the night ago. I tapped it till I reached Yoichi Hyuuga's album 'My Brother'.

"I brought this album in iTunes 5 days ago, just in case my friend Nonoko would like to hear every song in it." he stared at my screen for a little while. It seemed he hasn't seen the cover of it before. I wondered what could possibly run through his mind with an hour glass as an album cover art.

"Was it good?" he asked me. I saw Mr. George's reaction as he asked that question. I nod in response as I said. "It was the best of all his songs."

"Now that you asked, it made me think of how he'd sing it live tonight. it was sold out. Lucky, I've got my tickets for free. " I said trying hard to false my excitement, right at that moment a funny statement run in my head;

'I hope people can buy love at eBay.' Then I wouldn't have to be the only one single in the group.

"So is mine." I looked at him in reflex; did he just say he also got his ticket for free? His smirk confirmed my initial query. I gave him a questioning look and waited for him to elaborate further on the subject.

"My brother gave it to me." he told me. I heard snickers from the seats on the front row. I gave them a smile in return, though I wasn't really sure what they found funny. At least not that particular moment.

A/n: again, sorry for grammatical errors. i'll admit I never have the sense of re-editing stuffs.