It Began at a bookstore

4. Hwanyeonghabnida

The flight to Seoul was 16 hours long, with just one stop inbetween. My entertainment was set for both the flights, with a pair of babies.

On the first one, I lost to Steph in a game of rock, paper, scissors and sulked in the middle seat, while she enjoyed the view of the skies. But soon enough, a 3 year old from a few seats ahead found me and didn't leave my side until our next stop.

At the midpoint airport, we decided not to wander much, since the take off was only an hour and a half away. Steph was making updates on a new designer logo she was working on, headphones on and eyebrows scrunched together while I, people watched.

It was a kind of fascination, watching people go about in their natural state of person, unaware and unbothered. Some people might call it creepy, but ignorance is bliss. Besides, I only watched them. It was a long way from actually stalking someone. Except for that one guy I saw at a frozen yogurt place maybe.

We were seated at the transit lounge, which was an intermediate between both the business lounge and the executive lounge. I'm not an expert at airports, there are just boards everywhere.

I was following a man sporting a half-mask, a cap and an ID card. He was on the phone, talking urgently with hand gestures. I watched on until he entered the executive lounge. Okay, bye bye. Next object of interest, where art thou?

The speakers then sounded with the announcement that the flight to Soeul would be leaving in exactly half an hour and that, passengers were to board it in an orderly fashion. I nudged Steph, and she lifted one side of her headphones.

"Let's go. Time to board."

She hummed, packing her headphones and her tablet into her bag, whilst rummaging around for something else. Probably her neck pillow.

I hoisted my backpack on and looked around as people began to line up at the departure. There were two attendants, but only a single line. Just as I was wondering the reason behind the arrangement, the door to the executive lounge opened and out stepped four individuals. All of them wearing half face masks and hats. One of them was the man I saw earlier, entering the lounge. He was the only one without a hat.

"Do you remember where I kept my neck pillow?? Can you check your bag?"

I nodded, sneaking glances at those men who seemed like they were undercover agents, and dug around in my bag.

I was just about to inform Steph that I didn't have it on me, when there was a sudden commotion at the entry. Both of us turned in the direction of raised voices.

One of the men was on his knees, his hat was lying on the floor next to him, black hair now exposed and sticking up. The man with the ID card was assisting him to stand up. He'd obviously tripped over his own feet, seeing how his other two companions were reacting to his situation.

One of them, who had broader shoulders than the other, seemed to be laughing behind his mask, judging from how his body was shaking. The other one, who was decked in black, had his hands in his pockets, and was looking down his nose at the guy who fell. Like this was just another daily occurrence in his life.

I caught myself before I could snicker at the sight. Steph had finally found her pillow and was already walking ahead of me, when I turned my attention back to her,

"Wait up, Steph."

"Stop gawking, Grace. Someone is gonna catch you at it soon, and it'll be embarrassing, and I won't listen to you brood over it."

I made a face and followed after her, and the rest of the crowd, forgetting all about Clumsy and Co. I wasted a good laugh by missing the fall.