The Getaway Prince

Chapter 4: Blessing in Disguise

I don't believe in fate. I never knew my parents. My earliest memories consist of grey walls and rows of single beds. Most people claim to have horrible experiences in orphanages, but in my stint at Luxburg's Home for Children, I found it to be quite the opposite. Communities were built quickly, with children of all ages who could easily relate to what you were going through, our beds were always clean, and we always had activities to pass the time.

The only thing that ever truly irritated me was the ideology they fed to children to make them excited about their current situation: “It is fate that brought you here and fate that will help you find your perfect family." It wasn't until I was placed into my first foster home, and then my second, and third, that I gave up on 'finding my perfect family.'

My adoptive parents weren't much better. Sure, I was adopted—on paper, I was a success. But in reality, they just took me in to make themselves feel and look better. All I'll say was it was worse than the orphanage. If fate existed, then why was I put in home after home, only to wind up with the worst 'family' I could've possibly been placed in? If fate existed, then why was I here, getting ready to board a flight to Greece with the last of my savings, only to return in a week with no prospects? If fate existed, this was some cruel joke.

But when I saw him, I felt a tinge of something resembling hope. I still didn't think it was fate (how crazy would it be of me to think of a guy I saw once in my life as 'fate'?) but I did feel like something new was beginning.

All through the rest of our breakfast and waiting in line to board the plane, I continued to interact with Aubrey and listen to her stories, but my thoughts were entirely elsewhere. I showed my passport to the attendant who examined it—and me—then stamped it, allowing me through. I trailed behind Aubrey, eager to finally get some rest both mentally and physically.

We walked down the long, carpeted jet bridge leading into the plane. The engines roared under our feet the closer we got, and the staff welcomed us as we took our step on board. There was really no going back now.

I followed the row of numbers, watching as they went up in number: 36, 37, 38, 39ABC.

I stopped and lifted open the overhang, hoisting my bag above my head and into the luggage container. When I closed the lid, I saw Aubrey stopped a few rows ahead, holding up the line growing behind her as more passengers entered.

“What're you doing?"

“Uhm…sitting in our seats?" I replied. “39?"

“No, we're in row 42."

I looked at her and tilted my head faintly, pulling out my boarding pass. I shook my head. “Nope, 39A."

Aubrey pulled out her passport and glanced down at her seat location. When she looked back up, she groaned. “F*ck, I must've remembered your seat number wrong when I went back in to book mine."

I shrugged. I would've loved to spend the flight with Aubrey, but at the same time, I was also glad that I would have the time to myself to relax and just be with my own person, instead of having to make conversation every so often.

Aubrey sighed in aggravation and lifted open the luggage container, placing her bag inside. “Well, guess I'll see you in 10 hours," she noted. As an extrovert, I could tell she wasn't happy with our seating arrangement, but knowing Aubrey, she'd make friends with whoever she sat beside in an instant and tell them unwarranted stories about our impending escapade.

I slid myself over to the window and buckled myself in, observing the remaining passengers that were left to take their seats. The screen in front of me advertised the games and new films available to enjoy during the flight and there was no doubt Aubrey was already engulfing in the latest episode of that entrepreneur show she loved so much, claiming that she could easily market better than they ever could.

I loved the window location, not because I was able to see everything from a perspective we can't achieve without paying for obscene amounts of money, but because I could gaze out of it for the entirety of the trip and lose myself in a daydream. And that's exactly what I intended to do any moment I wasn't sleeping.

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my Bluetooth headphones, connecting them to my phone. I scrolled through my playlist, looking for the perfect song to compliment my softened mood, and clicked play on the first song I felt appropriate. The music drifted into my ears and then my being, as I resonated with the acoustics that mimicked how I was feeling internally.

I turned my gaze to outside the window, seeing the men and women working away to make sure the plane was safe, stocked, and ready to fly. Their high-visibility shirts refracted off the sun's rays while they moved, and workers in the distance drove carts containing the luggage of other flights from one area to another.

Just then, the sound of the storage compartment above my head opening and then closing pierced through the silence existing between one song changing to another. Shortly after, I heard a deep, yet liquid voice speak.

“Excuse me?"

I pulled down my headphones and turned to the aisle, only to encounter the same glistening brown eyes I had been thinking about ever since I saw them in the airport cafeteria.

“Is this 39B?"

I never thought I'd see him again—that he was just a fleeting person I'd dream about, knowing we'd never cross paths. But here he was, and he was waiting for me to respond.

I cleared my throat, my hands shaking. God, I hope he didn't see. “I—uhm, yes," I finally spit out. “Y-yes, it is."

“Perfect," he said with a smile. That same smile that caught me off guard not too long before. F*ck, pull yourself together, Olivia. He's just a man. A really…beautifully created man.

He adjusted his suit jacket as he squeezed between our seats and the seats in front of us and sat down beside me. His cologne wafted through my nostrils and I inhaled, breathing in the scent of pinewood. It was…heavenly. His seatbelt clicked closed and he turned to me, smiling politely. I returned the favour and took a deep breath.

Looks like I'm not sleeping after all.