This is a PRIVATE roleplay between Fairy_Tales_Are_Real and BCNSDJ. Please do not post here unless you are one of the two. Otherwise, you may read along.

The November snow was light as it began descending onto Earth. The flakes were soft and gentle as they fell onto his face. Elliot took a breath. Crisp air leaked into his lungs. Typical Detroit weather. At least, he thought it was typical. This was his first time in the state of Michigan, let alone it's largest city.
Around him people and vehicles alike milled about. Men with suits came practically running in and out of the airport, their dufflebags bouncing around on their shoulders, holding a simple nights worth of clothes for their overnight business trip. Families from overseas took one step into the cold climate of the city and squealed in surprise. Taxis and limos of all kinds kept pulling up to the curb, picking up and dropping off people by the second. There was the occasional honk of the horn, the loud bustle of human chatter, and the smell of exhaust filling the area.
If he closed his eyes, Elliot imagined himself at the Vancouver airport where he had been less than six hours ago.
A buzzing in his pocket shattered the moment. Elliot pulled out his cellphone and glared at the screen. Get back inside! Screamed the display's bright block letters.
Time to go through security.
Elliot took a moment longer to simply breathe. To soak in the outside for only a second more before he boarded the plane destined for England. This would be his last memory of North America. Standing at the front of the airport in the US of A, the country he never came to like his whole life.
He closed his eyes again. Breathe, he told himself. Breathe and let it soak into your mind.
His cell buzzed again. He scowled. "Shut up."

The taxi driver was a loud, and errogant man, whom Sandra was getting annoyed by. Her shoe tapped against the floor of the taxi, the driver talking about his problems from home. She would have just walked from the hotel, it wasn't that far, but she absolutely did not like the cold. She loved snow, but not the cold. Coming from Florida, it made sense. In Florida it was almost never cold. She was regretting not wearing long sleeves. Another reason as to why she had taken a cab. Though, now she regretted it bitterly. If only she had had a drink.....
Finally the taxi stopped and the driver stopped talking. "I swear to God, if you think I'm paying after listening to your crap, sober, you're gonna be really dissapointed." Normally, Sandra wasn't so mean. But when people got on her nerves. They got on her nerves, and there was no turning back. And to be honest, not many people bothered her. The cab driver, just shrugged and grumbled something. She told him to pop the trunk, and then hurried out of the car. Snow dropped onto her, and she shivered. She grabbed all her bags, which was a lot, and then hurried inside the airport.
Sandra grabbed her airport pass and such, and went to the front desk. Dragging her striped zebra luggage behind her. She find out where to go. She always refused to give her bags until right before getting on. Incase of emergencys. She nodded and walked to the waiting area for her plane. She'd been sitting there, for not too long, her bags surrounding her when suddenly there was an announcement. At first she thought it would be about a plane leaving, so she took out both her ITouches earbuds and listened.
"Announcement all customers for Ace Airlines. We are sorry to announcement but the weather is looking bad. We are told to let no one leave and no one enter. We are sorry for your inconvenience and we hope you have a great night in the airport. Please understand and we be giving hourly updates about the weather. El anuncio todos los clientes para Líneas aéreas de As. Somos arrepentidos al anuncio pero el tiempo parece malo. Somos dichos a que nadie salga y nadie entra. Somos arrepentidos para su inconveniente y nosotros esperamos que tenga una gran noche en el aeropuerto. Comprenda por favor y nosotros damos actualizaciones por hora acerca del tiempo." Click.
Sandra sat there in disbelief. This made her mad, confused, and happy that she hadn't given them her luggage. Though now she had to lug them around where ever she went. Sighing, she stood up, and in her shirt pocket put her Itouch before putting the earbuds back in her ears. Well, now she minus well go through the airports mall. She walked around, stopping at a Starbucks. She took out an earbud and waited in the small line before ordering a Double Chocolate Chip Frappe. Then, she stood off to the side, listening to her music and humming under her breath.

((P.S. She's what she is in the pic, hair and everything. :3))

Elliot was three places away from checking in his luggage when he heard the announcement. At once he turned around and left. Why hand over his favourite possessions when his flight had just been cancelled? All he had for luggage was his large carry-on backpack and his bass anyways. Everything else had been left in Sechelt either sold or given out between his friends and co-workers. He never thought he'd be needing anything more than a single change of clothes, some books to read, his wallet, and a small photo album of his life back in BC... But he'd never give up his instrument. It was going with him whether his grandmother approved of the noise or not.

He gazed out through one of the airport windows. Over the tops of milling heads he saw the snow outside pouring down, as if they were being dumped through the heavens by the bucket. Only fifteen minutes between the time he stood outside the airport breathing in the fresh air and now this? Amazing how drastic the snow fall could change in the Eastern side of the continent.

His cell buzzed. Elliot ignored it for a moment, thinking it was only going to be another alarm--although what one he had no idea. He had a tendency to forget he even made them, which is probably why he was always late for things. Hence the constant alarm system--in reality though, it was a text message and he realized this when he buzz went on for a good two seconds before stopping then starting up again. His alarm buzzes were shorter. Much shorter.

Elliot flipped open his cell's screen. Sure enough the glowing letters spelled out 1 Text Message. He clicked Open and began reading. It was from his friend, and (now) ex-girlfriend, Ashley, asking him if the weather was good in Detroit. Elliot smiled to himself. Good ol' Ashley, always on top of things. She was well known for her world knowledge. It broke his heart to say good-bye to her.

He replied swiftly, answering with the status of his plane, and tucked his cell back into his pocket. He could use a coffee. It was going to be a long night...

Wandering through the front and into the food court, Elliot found himself at a typical Starbucks. It figured America would have one. Didn't he see another shop just down the road from the airport? He smiled. Starbucks was equivalent to Tim Horton's in Ontario. One on every block.

He ordered a Mocha Frappe and leaned against the counter waiting for his order. His grey eyes began surveying the area, travelling over the different faces and shapes of those near him. There was an older man with two children sitting at a table eating some sweets. A woman with reading glasses sipped at a hot drink, her nose buried into the depths of her novel. Off to Elliot's left was a girl his age with long hair and wearing clothes far opposite of the weather they were having outside. He caught the girl's eye and flashed a timid smile, glancing down at his bass' case shyly. The typical, polite yet humble Canadian thing to do.

Sandra was simply staring into space when a boy caught her eye. He looked like he was around her age, maybe older by a year or two. She smiled back, showing her pearly whites, hoping he caught it before looking down at his guitar case. Over her music, she heard a worker at the Starbucks call out her drink and then a similar drink. She left her bags where she'd been standing and went over. Not really paying attention, she grabbed one of the drinks along with the straw, and walked away. She rolled her luggage out to the hall way, and picked a small table. It was round, and had two comfy chairs. She set the drink down and put all her luggage on one side. She didn't know how long she'd be gone, or where she'd go. So she pretty much brought anything she could fit into a bag or she wanted slash needed.

Sitting at the table Sandra ripped the paper off the straw and stuck it inside. She took a sip and instantly made a face. It wasn't her Frappe, and didn't taste all that good. And when someone who went to parties and drank whatever the alcoholic drinks there were found something wierd tasting, there was something wrong with it. She stood up and glanced at her luggage. She would be gone a moment, no one would take it. She was sure. Not even in Florida someone took another persons luggage. If anything they went through it to take a condom or undergarments. People tended to be perverts.

On Sandra's behalf, she'd only done it once. When she was 18 and she'd been incredibly drunk. But that was besides the point. Now, she walked back into the Starbucks, her earbuds now in her pocket with the Itouch. "Hey. You gave me the wrong drink." She said, walking in.

Elliot took his offered drink and wandered over to one of the seats near where he had just been standing in the store. He enjoyed the gentle music inside the Starbucks, and as he leaned over to sip his drink he almost gagged at the sweetness of it. This... was a mocha? No way! He never has Starbucks before, but this... This was horrible! It was disgusting actually! He glared at the swirly chocolate on top of the white whip cream and wrinkled his nose. Did he have to drink this thing? He really didn't want to...

From behind he heard the sound of footsteps and he glanced over his shoulder. The girl from before was stalking into the store, waving her drink around. "Hey, you gave me the wrong drink," she said to the guy behind the counter.

Elliot squinted his eyes. He couldn't tell what her drink looked like because it was too far away. Fishing his glasses out from his jacket pocket, he put them on his nose and saw her beverage looked suspiciously like his. Elliot glanced at his drink. Maybe they accidentally switched? Or maybe they didn't. What if he walked up to the girl and said something and made himself to look like a total fool. He flushed at the thought. Good lord, embarrassing himself in front of a pretty person like her? He'd done that too many times in his high school life to try it again.

But his drink was so... gross...

Sucking up his pride, Elliot stood and moved over to the counter where the girl and man talked. He tapped the brunette on the shoulder gently and cleared his throat a little, trying not to startle her. There were too many times in his life where surprising someone had landed him either a punch to the gut, face, or a loose arm swinging around to smack him. He really hoped this girl wasn't as short-nerved as the others. "Um... I think we might have switched drinks," he said, wiggling the teeth rotting sweet Frappe in his hand.

Sandra had only begun to argue gently with the counter man. She couldn't believe he tried to lie to her. Straight to her face too! It was amazing what Americans thought they could get away with. No. She had payed fair and square for a simple fricken Double Chocolate Chip Frappe. How hard was it to put chocolate, milk, ice, and a couple of other stuff into a blender? She should have gone to the McDonalds a couple of stores up. They never made a mistake with their Frappe's. They only had like three flavors. Though she only ever got the Mocha one. She put the drink down, refusing to give up. There was no way she was going to be stuck drinking this. Though she wasn't going to make a big scene either.

That was when someone tapped her shoulder. Sandra turned her head to see the boy that had smiled at her. She turned around entirely and blinked. She stared at the drink and then took it from him gently. "Possibly..." She muttered. Now that she looked at it, it didn't look much different from the other one. The one that wasn't hers. The man behind the counter sighed and watched. She turned her head a little and gave him a dirty look before smiling at the boy who had brought over a similar drink. "You don't mind if I taste it?" She asked, though she was going to anyways.

Before he could answer, Sandra had her lips around the straw and took a sip. She closed her eyes and smiled. This was her chocolat-y goodness. She took another sip and then opened her eyes. She couldn't hide her joy, and hugged him. "Thank you so much!" Quickly she turned back and picked up what must have been his drink. She handed it to him, and then apologized to the worker. Now, she turned around and looked back at the boy. "Would you like to come sit with me?" She asked, glancing outside for a moment. Her stuff was still there thankfully.

This boy had brought back her delicious drink. Sandra couldn't just walk away. Plus, she was all alone. And he was alone. Though she figured he had a girlfriend. But that didn't mean she couldn't atleast sit with him. Right?

Elliot sighed in relief when the girl didn't hit him. She took the drink from his hand, although he didn't miss the look she shot at the man over the counter. The worker leered right back at her, although the girl already had her attention on Elliot by the time that happened. When she grinned after tasting the (disgusting) beverage, she leaped forwards and wrapped her arm around Elliot's neck. He flushed, feeling her body heat press up against his. Good god. Here he was stressing he was going to be humiliated and this girl is all but throwing herself at him.

He stepped back as soon as she let go, creating more distance between them. Not that he didn't like being intimate. He did have a few long relationships for a reason, not including the short flings he once had with other girls. It was simply weird for him to be clung to by a stranger.

Then again, she was pretty. Maybe it wasn't that bad.

When the girl asked him to sit with her Elliot could only shrug nonchalantly, trying to not seem too eager. "Sure," he said. "I just need to grab my stuff." He walked over to the table he was sat at and picked up his backpack, slinging it over his one shoulder. Switching his Mocha to the hand thats matching shoulder held the bag, he picked up his bass with its opposite.

Elliot turned around, tossing his head of curls as he did so to keep his vision clear. Damn hair and its too-long-ness. He needed to have it cut a little. At least enough that he didn't have to fight with it to be able to see. "Where to?" He asked, glancing outside of the Starbucks.

Sandra nodded. While she waited, she moved to the front door and sipped at her drink. She didn't mind that his lips had been on it before. Sure, it was an indirect kiss, but she could care less. As long as she could continue to sip at the chocolat-y goodness. Now, if it had touched the floor, or an animal, or a really disgusting 80 year old man with bad teeth and smoke breath, and a gut. She shook her head at the thought, her bangs flopping around and then relaxing back into place. She looked back over at the boy, and watched him grab his things. She couldn't help but notice again that he had an instrument. To be honest, she was a singer. She had even gone to a magnet school for singing. Auditioned and everything.

Sandra showed her pearly whites again and nodded outside of the store. "This way!" She walked out of the Starbucks and walked to her table, in which her blue zebra luggage sat. She looked back to make sure he followed, and then sat down at the table again, taking a sip. Across from her was an empty chair. She figured he'd just take that one. She took another sip before introducing herself. "I'm Sandra, by the way. And you are?" She asked. She also figured that she'd introduce herself and make an acquaintance. If she was lucky, a friend. She always liked meeting new people and making new friends.

This was when she wondered where he was going. She was going to England. Mostly just to see the world. She was taking a break from school to do whatever she wanted, for however long. The college she had applied to had told her that she'd have a permanent spot there. Which she'd be abusing. Abusing with a purpose. A crave to see the world. Taste different foods. See the prettyness. Discover new things. Sing in different countries. Life was going to be good. She never expected how crazy it was going to get.

Elliot did take the seat across from her. As he made himself comfortable, bass leaning against his chair, he folded his one leg under himself and placed his pack on the ground by his dangling foot. He looked around. Nice and space. Not to many people around either. She grabbed a good spot. He wasn't someone who enjoyed crowded or stuffy placed. No, at times he grew claustrophobic even. Hence why he had such a hard time using the bathroom in an air plane. Or the one incident when his best friend shoved him into the trunk of his car when Elliot went to his buddy's birthday party and got totally smashed. He practically hyperventilated in there, even if it was fun and games.

That was also the day he quit drinking.

Elliot sipped his mocha. Yum, he thought. The proper flavours coated his taste buds just like he wanted. As the girl introduced herself to be named Sandra, he glanced at her through a veil of dark curls. He tossed them out of his face quickly, slightly flushed as he did so from how she was staring at him. "Elliot," he replied. "Elliot Johnson." From the girl's accent she was definitely American. Elliot found out that it was true, Canadians and Americans did have accents, despite what the whole of Canada thought. Most Americans assumed those in the Northern country spoke like the Maritime with their 'aboot's and their fishing... No, that wasn't true at all. Only the folks from Newfoundland had such an accent, and that was only because their ancestors were a mix of British, Scottish and Irish. Add a dash of American to that mix and boom! Newfie accent.

"What flight are you catching?" Elliot asked, trying to keep a conversation going. He sucked in more of his mocha, practically inhaling it. He wanted to finish his drink then to go the bathroom before his plane decided to leave the port. Not that he thought that was going to happen anytime soon...

Sandra wanted to laughed lightly at the way he blushed. She thought it was cute. Not many guys she knew were like that. If she had a nickle for all the times she'd seen a boy blush she'd have exactly fifteen cents. If she was in the old times, not even fifteen cents got you something big. She would probably have to get like three candy bars and then split it with her friends. And she especially, hadn't expected his next words to be his first name again and then his last. More like: "Are you a parking ticket? 'Cause girl! You got fine written all over you!" And then that would be her cue to roll her eyes, laugh, and walk away. But not with him. It was kind of refreshing. A new thing, that she kind of liked. Though she had to say, some lines that guys gave her made her like them. Not like them enough to go out. But be friends. Mostly because it just made her laugh. She was an easy laugher. Though she wouldn't laugh if you just said 'pudding'. She found those girls to be ridiculous.

Sandra took another sip of her Double Chocolate Chip Frappe. She couldn't help but laugh when he asked what plane she was catching. "Well, apparently all planes have been delayed for the night at the time being. All I'd have to do is walk out into the snow, which I'd prefer not to do, and touch it." She couldn't help but joke around a little. "But... um. In all seriousness, I was going to England before the stupid snow storm came around." She told him with a small nod. "How about you? What plane were you going to take?" She asked. Not just to be polite, but because she was actually curious. If they were planning to go on the same plane, she figured she'd stick around him. He was around her age after all.

And besides, Sandra didn't think he'd mind having her around. He seemed to be alone. And no one liked to be lonely on a plane. At least, she didn't. Especially because she hated sitting next to people she didn't know. It was kind of creepy. You never knew what they were thinking. Or maybe they were obnoxious. Or, not to be offensive, but on the big side so kind of made it uncomfortable to sit next to him. And Elliot didn't seem to be any of those. especially not on the big side. Though, she couldn't read his mind either.... That left obnoxious. And he seemed too.... shy?, to be obnoxious. But now, she was getting ahead of herself. She always tended to do that.

Elliot flushed at his mistake. He meant to say it past tense, but it slipped out as present. Here it was, he thought, the humiliation. It was beginning... He blushed harder when Sandra laughed. She had such a pretty laugh... It reminded him of his mother. His mother had a laugh as clear as a bell. A crystal bell. And when she smiled her whole face lit up. The wrinkles in the corner of her eyes, or how her lips curved to show a toothy grin. She was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Eugene licked a bit of mocha off the corner of his mouth. He really needed to stop thinking about his mom. It'd bring him back to the state he was in when she passed away and he definitely didn't want to go back to that. Never in a million years.

He blinked in surprise at Sandra's response. "I was going to England too," he said with a wiry smile. Good, someone he at least slightly knew he could sit with. Last he checked the plane wasn't at all full. Maybe he could slip into a seat beside her if nobody else was supposed to fill them. Or vice-verse. Whichever was less crowded. He didn't want to be a burden and make it hard on people by taking their spots. That would just be rude.

Sandra was about to comment about a little bit of his drink he had on the corner of his mouth, but he licked it off. So she ignored it. She couldn't help but smile at his face. It was the red-est she had ever seen a guy. Except that one guy who had walked into the bathroom the same exact time she'd been coming out. Poor guy, his face had turned so red he almost fainted. She had just stood there shocked. She hadn't realized that he'd come over so early. Apparently, her mother had let him in and he had hurried to the bathroom. He had had a bloody nose afterwards. And though it was embarrassing, she had just been worried if he was okay or not.

Sandra grinned happily when he told her that he'd been going to England. If she'd been alone, or known him better, she would've done a happy dance in the chair. Instead she took a sip of her Frappe before speaking. "That's awesome! If we ever get on the plane, I hope I have someone to sit next to." She winked playfully at him. She didn't mean anything by it, just a playful gesture really. But she did mean what she had said. She haited being a lone. And next to a complete stranger. Elliot wasn't a stranger anymore. Like.... To her, he was a sort of friend. Not that she'd tell him her darkest deepest secrets. Had she really had one. But she didn't. Which, made her point kind of confusing.

Sandra decided to change the subject. She remembered his guitar and decided to move it onto that. "So. I see you play the guitar." She hinted, indicating the subject change, and for him to go deeper into the conversation. To talk about his guitar and stuff.

Elliot shifted nervously at her wink. Was this chick a mind reader or something? She asked about his "guitar" and he felt only a little insulted. It wasn't Sandra's fault she couldn't see through the case. He pushed out his bottom lip in a slight pout as he replied though, feelings only slightly hurt. "It's a bass," he corrected, using his softest tone to not sound rude, "and yeah, I do. Seven years now."

He swirled the rest of his mocha with the green straw. There was only a bit left. Not wanting to look like a slob in public, he popped off the lid and, instead of slurping up the remains of the frappe with his straw, he downed it by tilted the rim of the cup to his mouth. The thick goop fell easily into his mouth and began sliding down his throat. Oh, caffeine. Only crazy people don't love you. He smiled to himself, swallowing the last bit of his beverage. All empty.

He glanced over at Sandra. She still had a bit left in hers. He didn't move to throw his cup out. Instead he placed it on the desk beside him. He'd wait until she was finished to take hers and throw them both out together. No use making two trips when it could be easily shortened to one.

"Do you play anything?" He asked innocently, grey eyes large as he looked up through his glasses at Sandra. It was then he realized he had been wearing them the entire time. He had forgotten to take them off when he put them on to see her drink. Quickly he folded the rims together and tucked the tacky item deep into his jacket pocket, cheeks dusting pink. He was near sighted, able to see and read on his own but needed help to drive or watch TV. Walking wasn't such a problem. Giant blobs of colour were easy to avoid.

Sandra blinked and frowned. A bass and a guitar were very similar in some ways. How was she to know which one it was with just looking at the case? It was obvious she'd unintendedly hurt his feelings. But it wasn't her fault. She shook her head, shoving her mean thoughts out. Seven years was a long time.... Her brown eyes watched while he downed the rest of his drink. She, herself, liked to slurp the last of her drink. Whether the other person liked it or not. She was going to enjoy her drink the way she liked it and if they had a problem they could move away. Not that she was a mean person, she wasn't, but she was who she was and if they didn't like it they could go away. That was it.

Sandra had only began to slurp at the last bit when he asked her a question. She shook her head, noticing his glasses were gone. "I can't play an instrument to save my life. I sing though." She told him. "And Seven years is a lot. You must really like playing the bass." This time, she made sure she said the right thing. She didn't want to offend him again. He was her only hope for the plane and a friend.

Sandra had been in two other bands. Outside of school. One when she was in middle school, and another in highschool. Though in middle school it broke off after a year because they got into fight over what song to do at their first gig. In highschool it lasted all four years. They had even played at a few school dances. Though some songs they didn't particularly liked they had to play, but it was a gig no matter what.

Elliot smiled. "Singing? Really? For how long?" Ashley sang too. He used to sit in her house basement, bass in hand, plucking a few chords as she hummed gently to herself. Across the room, on the floor by the fireplace, Elliot's best friend would pull out his little ukelele and strum along with them. It was never serious. They never made a band or played gigs, but it was fun and light-hearted. Just what he liked.

Thinking of those times made Elliot feel nostalgic. He inwardly cursed himself and pushed the memories away.

He listened to Sandra slurp her frappe and wondered why he bothered being polite when she didn't in the least bit. He watched the last of her drink disappear and he reached over with one hand, grabbing his own empty cup with the other. "Here," he said, "I'll throw it out for you."

As he walked towards one of the building's pillars where a plastic garbage sat, he chucked the plastic containers into the open gap then wandered back to his seat. "With our skills we could make a band," he joked, a teasing smile curling back his lips.

Sandra smiled. "I've been singing since I could talk. Went to a highschool specially for it and stuff." She told him. Just to see if he had went to a highschool for the bass as well. While she waited for a response or whateever, she slurped at the drink. Finishing it slowly. She hadn't expected him to take it from her. She nodded slowly and watched him walk away. Honestly, only her close friends that were boys threw away her stuff, and that was because she bugged them. All the other guys made her throw it away herself, or throw theirs away too while she was at it. It was a really really nice change for once. She was going to like this kid.

Sandra sat back and waited for him to return. Her fingers lightly tapping against the chairs arm. Her eyes lit up when he talked about making a band. Sure, she could tell he was joking. But it was a great idea! She sat up and leaned a bit forward. "That's a great idea! And we could go all around the world. And meet new people. Along the way we find more and more people to join the band! We'd be like this super duper wierd foreign band!" She began, excitedly. She couldn't exactly picture it, but she was sure it'd involve cute guys. Bands always had cute guys. All over the world had cute guys! This time, she couldn't help herself and danced a small happy dance in the chair.

There was no turning back now. He couldn't take back what he had said. They were making a band. Sandra was too excited to go back now.

So she even went to a school for singing. Elliot's laugh was as quiet as a soft bell. He felt rather inferior. He only took public school in Sechelt. That was all they had to offer. Sure, there were high class schools on Vancouver Island, but why waste the money? His education was perfectly normal. Even if he had forced his mother to spend thousands of dollars for top-notch classes there wouldn't be a better outcome. He might understand the sciences a little more, and his essay writing could be better, but over all he had no major. He had nothing in sight. No dreams, no goal. He was just rolling through life on a moderate paced train.

"A family friend taught me to play," he explained adding to his own history. "He was a music teacher in the Creek, er, that's what we call Roberts Creek where I come from. He was a typical hippie, but he was really nice." And amazing at any instrument with strings. Elliot smiled at the memory of his teacher's long, calloused fingers sliding up and down the neck of his bass, plucking at the thick strings. The very same bass Elliot had by his side today.

When Sandra all but burst with excitement over the concept of a band Elliot's face went blank. Was this chick serious? A world tour just to make a band? He couldn't help laugh again, this time a little louder. He always had soft laughter his whole life. Nothing like those barking bursts that came out of obnoxious people. Even if his speaking voice was a normal volume, he barely ever raised it. His laugh was no exception.

"Are you mad?" He asked, British slang slipping into his speech. Hopefully this American girl took it right way. Most didn't. "We--I don't even know you! And where would we get money?" It was none of her business that he had about a hundred grand locked away in his bank account from his inheritance money. Besides, that was supposed to go to his college in England, not some wild world tour.

Sandra could tell, just from his face, that he missed where he had came from. She didn't understand why'd he left then. He should have just stayed if he missed it so much. And then she frowned, hurt apparent in her face. She'd never been spoken to like that. And if she had, it'd been from a friend and they were only joking. From him, it hurt. Very much so. She looked down. "So what? We could get to know eachother.... And as for money... Gigs and stuff...." She mumbled, playing with her fingers. Did it really matter where they got the money? And if they barily knew eachother? It should be for the love of music and singing or playing the bass that they did it. And for the love of the world. But apparently, he didn't care all the much. She'd gotten the wrong vibe from him. Read him wrong.... Something.

Sandra looked up at him. "I'm sorry to have bothered you. But I'm going to do it. For the love of the world, and music, and singing. You don't have to do it. But I was already planning to go around the world. So.... whatever." She stood up and began to gather her things. She wasn't going to sit there and be called 'mad' or crazy. She was going to do it. With him, or without him. She was sure she could find another bass player. They weren't that unknown of. In fact, they were pretty easy to find.

Sandra was the ambitious type. She went with the flow, and did what felt good. She didn't think about money, or how, or why. She just did it because it felt right and was what she wanted to do.

Elliot leaped to his feet instantly. Oh great, he insulted her. "I didn't mean to be... well, mean," he said, trying desperately to explain himself. "It's just... Try to see it at a reasonable angle. I mean, yeah, it would be really nice to do but--" Oh what the hell, he never won against women.

With a sigh, he threw his arms into the air. "Fine," he grumbled, "I'll come." Who knows what kind of trouble this girl would get herself into if she didn't have someone responsible like him around. Elliot was always the mature one, the one who seemed to babysit all those around him. Sandra looked reckless. He couldn't let her wander off. Especially when she preached about doing it for the love of music or whatever else she had gone on about...

His grandmother was not going to be happy about his choice though...

Sandra froze, standing profile to him. She listened to him fumble and trip over words. She bit her lip, ready to use the crying bit. Guys were suckers for it, and her eye make-up was water proof. But then he gave in. Her eyes lit up when he agreed. She grinned happily and rushed around to him. She gave him a big hug, jumping up and down a little. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She told him excitedly. "You won't regret it! I swear!"

Holding on to him she did a small happy dance, and then moved away. "Okay! Let's go get a drink! I am finally old enough to get it legally!" She moved to her bags and began to collect them. This was going to be a blast. She just knew it. It was going to be like, one big party with gigs and foriegn people and all that. It was pretty cool, just the idea of it.

"Oh, well, I don't drink..." Elliot started to say. However, Sandra was already chattering on and on about their soon-to-be-awesome trip. He sighed. He hoped she knew that they wouldn't be allowed on the plane if she was drunk or even tipsy. The law was a strict thing, and with the delay he really didn't want to miss another flight.

His phone began buzzing. Elliot pulled it out and glanced at it. A text message from... his cousin in England? He frowned and flipped it open. Call me when you land. Oh right, he still had to contact his family. "'scuse me," he mumbled to Sandra, stepping away. He dialed in his cousin's number and placed his phone to his ear.

Three rings later his cousin answered. "Wow, early landing?"

"It's delayed," Elliot said. He stared through a nearby window to see the snow still falling. It almost looked like it was slowing down, but not by much. "The weather's turned bad here."

"Oh, bugger. I assume you don't know when you'll board?"

"Nah, sorry."

"Load of tosh," Anthony grumbled. His accent was thick through the phone line. "I'll tell Nana you're going to be late."

"Don't wait up," Elliot joked. He heard Anthony laugh then bid his relative farewell after mumbling a soft 'tell everyone I say hi and I love them', eyeing Sandra shyly, a blush gracing his features. He was always a little embarrassed about being so sappy with his family.

He walked back over. "Sorry... Um, so you were saying something to eat, yeah?" No, she said a drink, but Elliot didn't absorb alcohol. Food was better.

Sandra had never payed attention to that type of thing. And she knew that if she was really going somewhere she wouldn't drink that much. Though she didn't think the planes were leaving anytime soon. She nodded when he pulled out his phone and excused himself. She sat down on her luggage and waited. She hated to eavesdrop. But she could hear his conversation. She didn't once suspect that he had been going to England to visit family. Had that been the case, she would have never allowed him to agree to come all around the world with her. By the time he hung up, she didn't remember about drinking. So when he said food, she blinked and nodded.

"Yeah. Food. Where you want to go?" Sandra asked, standing up and gathering her things again. "There's a Wendy's, a Burger King, a McDonalds, Taco Bell, a Pizza Place." She drowned on, trailing off. There were so many places to list. She just didn't want to list them all. Besides, all the ones she listed were the best. Except for Wendy's and Burger King. She wasn't a big fan of those. But then again, it didn't matter as long as she had something to eat. And all they had was fast food places. Which wasn't all the bad either...

Being Canadian, Elliot was raised with his people to believe fast-food was bad for you. It grossed him out, greasy food. As Sandra counted off the different places they could eat at, he rubbed his hands together. He wished they had a Tim Horton's. The only semi-fast food place anyone from Canada accepted. Although, he hadn't ever been to a Taco Bell or Pizza Place before. He was too scared of McDonald's food to eat it. His poor arteries...

"Why don't you lead the way?" He asked with a shy smile. He slung his pack over his shoulder, feeling the weight of his items on his back. He thought to himself how he really should have put a bit more in there. Maybe another set of clothing... Especially when he realized he was going on a trip. Reaching down his fingers wrapped around his bass' case handle and he lifted it easily. "I'm sort of a newbie to the whole airport thing."

Sandra thought about it, when he told her to lead the way. She figured he meant that she should pick where to eat. She decided the Pizza Place. Mostly because she hadn't had pizza in a week, and she loved it. Plus, she heard that here they also sold Garlic Rolls, and she absolutely loved Garlic Rolls. So, she looked at a small map and then walked in that direction. "This way. I hope you like Pizza and Garlic Rolls." She told him, happily.

"That's okay. I've only been on an airplane a couple times before." Sandra admitted. She walked over to the pizza place and got them a table. Where she looked at the menu. She wanted pepperoni and ofcourse, the Garlic Rolls.