"Now boarding all passengers and rows for Oceanic Air Flight 815 from Sydney to Los Angeles."
The voice that rang through the terminal was the sort that sounded like it belonged to a pretty, young woman. The kind who every slightly-inebriated man on an airplane pined for. One whose hair was pulled into a bun at the back of her head tightly enough to give her a crisp and professional look, yet it was loose enough to ensure that her face wasn't heaved back and stretched. The carpet lining the airport floor was the typical blue color. It was the same mass-produced carpet someone might find at a hospital, on the top level of a hotel fire escape, or just inside the sliding doors of the local Toys 'R' Us. Sydney lay just beyond the windows of the terminal. The famed Opera House was a few blocks east, and the airport had a pleasant view of the harbor. A few yachts, fishing vessels, and dinghies bobbed listlessly in the water as their owners walked along the dock and piers. Some had ropes over their shoulders as they headed for their ships. The sun was high in the sky, shining down onto the glistening water as it rose and fell. The airport terminal was illuminated half by the florescent lights mounted in the ceiling, and half by the sun as it reflected into the building. It gleamed through the glass, shining onto the small, silver Oceanic Air wings pinned onto the right side of the flight attendant's blazer, mounted on her right lapel and resting quietly on her breast. Her figure cast an all too familiar shadow, one that was somewhat stereotypical. Her hips were large, but not obtrusive, her waist narrow, and her legs long as the skirt of her uniform reached to just above her knees. The nametag on her blazer read "Maria," and the top of her blouse pulled itself open as she reached for the microphone once more.
"Once again, boarding all rows for Flight 815." She spoke in a hushed voice into the microphone.
"How long until you think we'll be taking off?" The woman standing next to her asked. Her nametag read "Cindy," and her figure had much in common with Maria's. She was a bit shorter than her colleague, though her breasts were larger. She garnered a few more looks from the male passengers than Maria did.
The passengers filed onto the plane one by one as the airline employees continued to speak with one another.
"Did you hear about the, uh, the doctor?" Maria asked.
"Doctor?" Cindy replied, adjusting her blouse.
"Yeah. He gave Chrissy a b*tch of a time at the check-in desk."
"Oh?" Maria was half-listening, and half-making eyes with the long haired man passing his ticket through the scanner.
"Thanks, Darlin'." He said in a southern drawl, grinning as he chewed on his gum.
"Chrissy said that the poor guy was raving about his father having died a few days ago."
An Asian couple, a man and a woman, was silent as the man passed their ticked to Maria, who scanned them quickly. She took note of the fact that the young woman stared straight at the ground, her arms crossed tightly. She looked disinterested as her husband led her to the plane.
"Well, you can't really blame him if his father died." Cindy said, as she checked the passenger list.
Maria nodded to herself silently as she examined the list as well.
"Looks like we're still missing one." She sighed.
"First the guy in the wheelchair, then the doctor, now this missing guy. Never a normal day at Sydney International Airport, huh?" Cindy chuckled.
"Not one." Maria answered, then, quietly so as no one could hear,
"Did you see that Arab guy?"
"Mmhm." Cindy said, examining her nails. It was evident that whatever worry or care had driven Maria to lower her voice wasn't present in Cindy.
"Did security check him out, or, or check his luggage?"
"I think so. Hey, as long as that pregnant girl's water doesn't break halfway to L.A., I'm not worried about this flight. Besides, who'd blow up a plane going from Sydney to L.A.?"
"Don't ask me." Maria said, half bored by the humdrum routine of it all.
"Lord knows we've got ourselves a bit of a motley crew here, anyway. The last thing I need to worry about is a goddamned Iranian blowing up our plane."
She huffed and placed a hand on her hip, turning to glare at her coworker.
"Did you see that they let that black guy and his kid bring a dog on the plane? A dog. A dog! What if there's someone who's allergic?"
Cindy smiled.
"If you ask me," she began,
"I wouldn't mind if that b*tchy little pop-princess was allergic. The one who couldn't get into first class? She was giving the guy she was with a hard time."
"The cute one?"
"You thought he was cute?"
"You didn't?"
"He didn't seem like my type."
"Honey, everyone is your type."
Cindy rolled her eyes as they began shutting the door to the bridge to the plane's bulkhead.
"...The air marshal was pretty cute, though."
Maria looked taken aback.
"He was... like... fifty."
"I like older guys."
Maria stuck threw her hand over her head in a manner that said, "I toldja so!"
"Like I said. Any guy is your type."
Ignoring her coworker, Cindy played with her hair.
"Like I said: I like older guys." She said, casting a condescending glare Maria's way.
"Yeah? Then why were you checking out that 20-something British guy?"
"He's a musician. He doesn't count."
Maria felt her eyebrow arch and her lip curled into a sneer.
"And how do you know he was a musician?"
"He checked a guitar."
"Ah. So now you're snooping through other people's luggage?"
"Not snooping... investigatin'."
"I forgot how different those two were."
The banter the two were exchanging was cut short abruptly by the sound of a radio mounted on the ticket scanner.
"If everything is clear at the ticketing desk, ladies, we're going to pull back from the terminal and begin our take-off procedures."
The pilot, waiting for confirmation that he was clear for take off.
Maria approached the radio, picked it up, and began speaking.
"Everything looks good on this end, we're ready whe--"
"STOP!"
The Oceanic Air employee looked up from her radio and stared at the man sprinting at her. She blinked a few times.
"Stop! Don't let it take off!" he called again.
"Hold on a minute." Maria said quietly into the radio, taking a step forward to meet the heavyset man, drenched in sweat.
"Can we help you, sir?"
"The plane, flight." he stammered.
"I have to be on that flight. My-my-my name is Hugo Reyes. Check the list. I'm there."
She eyed his ticket and scanned it, smiling as the machine rang it up. Her gaze fell upon the man quietly.
A tenseness fell over the trio of strangers as Maria picked up the radio.
"We've got more coming through." She said.
"It's your lucky day, Mr. Reyes."
Hugo leapt into the air, a grin on his face as Cindy opened the door to the plane.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" He cried, sprinting forward.
The pair of airline workers sealed the door up and smiled at each other.
"You're a soft touch." Cindy said, smiling cynically.
"Hey. He's just a lucky guy, I guess." Maria responded cheerfully.
2 HOURS LATER.
SOMEWHERE OVER THE PACIFIC...
