One Way Glass
It was 1 am. And he was awake; the man behind him snored. So much for glitz and glamour, he sighed. He figured he was probably somewhere above Kansas, which led him to wonder about the lives people were living below him. He peered out the window, hoping to see if they were above countryside or a city, he achieved nothing; only black darkness met his eyes.
He wasn't sure why he did this. Imagining things, thinking up little stories and characters, wondering what others lives were like. Maybe it was because he was so dissatisfied with his own life. Maybe it was just because he had always been a writer, an artist with words, programmed to let his imagination run wild. He had never been sure; he just used it as a way to occupy himself.
Sometimes he'd sit in his hotel room, staring out the window, looking down at the people below. It was why he always insisted on having a room on one of the middle floors, this had led to him receiving odd looks from concierges across the world after declining the penthouse suite. He'd sit find the comfiest chair in the room, pull it up to the window, place the strong cup of coffee- that he had gotten someone to bring him from Starbucks- on the window ledge, and then peer outwards. He'd find an interesting subject, sometimes it would be someone who was rushing; sometimes it would be someone stood still; sometimes it would be a couple, sometimes they'd be walking hand in hand, sometimes they'd be arguing; occasionally he'd pick one of the paparazzi that was sure the be waiting outside the hotel entrance.
He'd then think up a back story, why they were in that place; what they were doing; who or what they were waiting for or rushing to. Sometimes he'd even give them names, depending on how caught up in the story his mind got. He enjoyed doing it; often it was the highlight of his day, which said something about his view of his life.
"This is your captain speaking," A voice crackled around the cabin, bouncing off the white 'walls' and wood veneer separators between the seats. It woke him from a sleep he hadn't even realised he'd fallen into. You're not in Kansas anymore, he laughed to himself. He wondered if anyone ever repeated lines that one of his characters had said. "The seatbelt signs have now been switched on, may all passengers please return to their seats. We will be landing in 20 minutes." He checked his watch. They were on time. "Thank you for flying with us today, we hope you had a pleasurable flight,"
It didn't take long to get from the plane to the waiting limousine; he didn't have to go through normal customs and his bags were collected by a member of his personnel team, possibly the same person who would later fetch his espresso. By some miracle there were no paparazzi waiting for him, as they drove off he made a mental note to call and thank his PA.
That was the wrong turning. He was sure of it. He might not have been home in 8 months, but he was more than certain of which way he had to go from the airport, after all he'd made the journey a thousand times. He sat up, looking out the window trying to work out where they were. He pushed down on a button to his left and the division between him and the driver slid down.
"Ed, we were meant to turn left back there," He tried not to sound rude or to insult Ed in anyway. He knew he was great as his job, but he was beginning to wonder if age was catching up with the old chauffeur. If he remembered rightly, he'd be 68 in August.
"I was told to take you to see your new person," The elder man kept his eyes on the road whilst he spoke, he always did, in fact Lucas couldn't actually remember making eye contact with the man.
"My new person?"
"A new member of the team,"
"I didn't know I was getting a..."
"She's part of PR or something," He nodded, resigning himself to the situation, although not happy. Sometimes it would be nice to be told something. It was his life after all. He sat in silence, staring out the window. Who had invented one way glass? They must have been one very closed off guy, not wanting anyone to see him, but wanting to see everyone else. Maybe he was a bit like the glass he invented. More than willing to see everyone else's world, but reluctant to allow anyone into his.
"Do you want the divider up, sir?" He shook himself out of his thoughts and looked at the back of the man's had. He still had a full head of hair; it was completely white and slightly wavy. He had a sudden urge to talk to someone, to talk about something other than himself or his love life or his latest flick. He wanted a normal person conversation.
"How's the family?" It was the first question that sprung to mind.
"I became a granddad when you were away,"
"Really? Congratulations,"
"Freya Lauren Taylor,"
"That's a great name,"
"Yes, it is,"
"How is Lauren?" Edward's wife, often the subject of their conversations; he always seemed to have a funny story about her antics. From what Lucas could gather she seemed like quite a ditzy woman, always being spontaneous and falling completely in love with everything and everyone. It seemed she had a new favourite hobby every time he saw Ed.
"She's decided she wants to buy an RV when I retire, you know, sell the house, travel around, stay with the kids sometimes. I kinda hoped she'd forget about the whole thing within a few weeks, but no, 7 months later and it's still all she ever talks about,"
"RV sounds like fun,"
"Nah. I've spent my life driving around places; I just want to put my feet up,"
"Hmmm,"
"How about you?"
"Mom's building some extension on the cafe, so I guess I should go see her,"
"And Haley?" Haley. His reply got stuck in his throat, desperately trying to find its way up, but blocked by some unidentifiable emotion. He'd been having the same problem ever since he had been told. He wasn't sure why. At one point he had contemplated the possibility of him having feelings for her, of himself being jealous; though now he was pretty sure it had more to do with the thought of 'losing' his best friend. Maybe he was scared she'd have less time for him. He was a bit like a child who was about to have a younger sibling. At the end of thinking like this, Lucas often described himself with one word. Pathetic.
"She got engaged," He tried to sound happy. A part of him was; you know the old, if you're happy I'm happy, and she was undoubtedly happy. And then there was the other part of him; the 'pathetic' part.
"That's great," He could tell without even looking at the man that Ed was smiling, it showed in his voice. "When was that?"
"He asked her on her birthday, which was...January 6th,"
"Quite a while ago then; are they thinking of a date?"
"October sometime, I think," He was sure they had set an actual date, but he hadn't spoken to anyone in so long that everything seemed to have passed him by. He let his Mom and Haley join his PA on the list of people he needed to call.
