𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝘼𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝘽𝙤𝙬𝙞𝙚!

THIRTY FOUR - New Way of Life

It was uncanny, flying alone.

Mari couldn't say she didn't enjoy it, the peace, the recluse, but she wasn't used to it. She would never get used to flying in first class, it was quiet, no crying children— it reminded her of how far she'd come in life, considering wealth and class. Farther than she could've ever imagined.

She was used to having someone to talk to, especially within the last few days. Throughout night and day, she had been resting well knowing that there was someone she could talk to in the next room over, but now she was alone. Maybe that would be good for her, to be alone.

She couldn't help but think about other changes she would have the chance to make once she finally settled down. She could get everything back on track, continue writing for a new album, record some things, maybe make some changes to herself. She was big on self improvement, but she didn't know where to start.

Mari ended up drifting off to sleep about fifteen minutes into the flight, not having gotten much sleep from David waking her up so early-- though she didn't mind, she had fun.

*

As soon as David got back to his apartment, he went back to sleep.

He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, nothing new, but he was trying to get back on track before he had to go to New Mexico for filming.

He slept with a lot on his mind, the night before had finally settled in his brain. Mari's words finally seeped in, though it was too late for him to do anything about them. He was something holding her back in the city, a place that to his knowledge, she'd been trying her hardest to get out of for a very considerable amount of time.

Then again, maybe he was overthinking things.

When David woke up, he recalled the events from earlier in the morning and groggily reached over to the nightstand and unfolded the piece of paper Mari had given him at the airport. Bold, italic, and very neat handwriting on the top of the page read 'Word on a Wing'.

He read through them, seeing a note at the very bottom of the page.

'Fell free to change around anything you want.

-- With love, Mari V. (Miss you already!!)'

A small heart was drawn next to the words, a smile laid on his face as he held the paper for a few more moments, examining her hand writing and re-reading what she'd written a couple times over. He finally folded it back up and sat it back on the nightstand, laying back down and trying to figure out why he couldn't get her out of his head.

*

"Leila? Are you home?"

Mari knocked at the door until the woman finally opened the door, a her eyes widening as she saw the familiar singer in front of her.

"You're here!" She exclaimed, immediately pulling Mari into a tight embrace.

She looked the same as when Mari last saw her years ago, her blond pixie cut still done the same way she'd always had it, her minimal makeup still done the same.

The two had met back in '69 when she and Mick had to pick up some instruments that they'd left in Apple Studios, Leila was talking to Paul McCartney when they walked into the studio area. She was an intern, ended up working for Billy Preston for a while before moving on to music production in Berlin.

"Have you already been to the house?" Leila asked with a smile as she pulled away, but still holding Mari's forearms.

"I have." Mari said, looking behind Leila and trying to see what her place looked like, "I had to go straight to it to drop my stuff off. My car should get here tomorrow, though."