𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑎 𝑜𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑠 🌘 (holyrites) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2020-07-09 20:52:00 |
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It was a four-hour flight to Eagle County and Luna spent most of it reading and gazing out the window. It felt truly bizarre to be the only person on this tiny plane, and so be able to get up and walk around and stretch her legs out in the comfortable seat and to grab herself a drink from the little fridge. Rich people lived the wildest lives imaginable. Every now and then Natalie’s voice would come over the speaker and point out something down on the ground that she should note, and Luna would move to the correct side of the plane and take it all in. After they landed, Natalie opened the door of the flight deck and came back. “This is my number,” she said, handing Luna a business card, a second number written on the back in black pen. “In case you need anything.” Luna nodded and pocketed the card, before getting up and grabbing her bag. She just wanted to get her feet onto solid ground, and she wasn’t thinking about the tarmac. In the airport, Natalie wished her good luck and disappeared down a STAFF ONLY corridor, and Luna – having literally no idea what was going on now – headed towards the sliding doors at the front of the airport. There were so few people around, and Luna had never been at such a quaint little country airport. Not that she’d been to all that many airports in her life. Outside the day was warm but little different to the weather she’d left, and she lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Luna,” said a voice to her right, and she turned to see a man watching her. In appearance his messy black hair, thick mustache and olive skin reminded Luna of her father’s looks – Spanish, but so often mistaken for Mexican. She’d always loved the deep tones of his skin, and had wished when she was younger that he’d been her biological father so she could have gained it as well. “This is very inconvenient for me to come get you today. I was in the middle of working.” “Then… I’m sorry?” Luna suggested, instead of saying what she first wanted to, which was ‘fuck off, I didn’t choose to come here.’ He took her bag from her, and so Luna let him. “You can call me Michele,” he told her. Luna thought that his accent was possibly Italian or Spanish, but she’d never been very good with accents. She didn’t tell him she was Luna, since he already knew. “Nice to meet you,” Luna told him. Michele watched her, and his gaze felt severe, like he was trying to burrow right into her. “Peitho told me literally nothing about you or why I was here,” Luna said, “so you might have to fill in some gaps.” Michele laughed, the deep dry laugh of a veteran smoker. “Peitho does like her secrets.” He started walking and Luna followed quickly. He was tall and thick, and each of his strides was much longer than hers. “You’re here to help me work. I’ve lost my inspiration and sometimes I need someone else around to help me find it again. If you help me, I’ll be very grateful. If you don’t do what I say and make things worse, I’ll be very angry. Is this to be clear to you?” He’d set those eyes on her again and stopped walking and so Luna just nodded quickly. He turned his back, walked a few more metres, and then unlocked a car and threw her bag into the backseat. When he saw Luna pulling out her phone he said, “make the calls you need now. I live out of town. Your phone won’t get signal there.” He made a face of disgust. “I hate all these modern things, all these mobile phones and internet, all their distracting signals through the air flying our minds, making us soft and sedentary.” Luna didn’t say anything, because he seemed to be mostly talking to himself. Instead she sent two texts after sitting down in the front seat. To Peitho: Arrived safely, with your friend now. To Will: Been called out of town for work. Not sure how long but probably won’t have my phone. See you when I get back! Michele didn’t really talk to her on the ride back, instead seeming to focus entirely on the road with intensity. Luna let him do his thing, and when they reached a very nice house surrounded by trees and little else, Luna climbed out and took it all in. From the backseat she grabbed her bag and Michele looked up at the clouds for a long time. Then he nodded, as though deciding something, and said, “quickly. Come follow.” Inside the house he led her to a bedroom and pointed inside. “I need to paint,” he said, his tone somewhat frazzled, almost angry. “There is food in the kitchen.” And then he went away, leaving Luna feeling almost less sure than she had been when she left New York that morning. Was… was he coming back soon? Was she just… supposed to hang around? She poked her head out the door and there was already no sign of him. Returning to the sparse bedroom, Luna sat down on the bed. Her phone had no reception. Luna sighed and pulled out a book. |