I Promise, I'm Not a Stalker.

Chapter 2

I drug my suitcase through the airport.

One of the wheels fell off, and this thing weighs like 100 pounds. Maybe I’m over exaggerating but still.

 I looked down at my ticket and let out a grunt of frustration. I probably looked like a mess. I’m dainty 16 year old girl wearing white skinny jeans and a kitty sweatshirt with a guitar that’s too big for me, a gigantic suitcase, and backpack with a skateboard poking out the top I probably look like I’m struggling. I looked around for an airport worker and hobbled over to him.

“Um, can you tell me where gate 13 is?” I asked looking up at him pleading.

He looked at me up and down and raised a bushy eyebrow. “Back that way.” He said pointing back the way I came. I looked at his hand, then back at his face. I let go over my suitcase, set down my guitar, took my camera off from around my neck, “Hold this.” I muttered pushing my camera into his chest. I laid down face down on the floor, and screamed into my arms. I got back up and noticed some people staring at me, but that’s something I’m used to, and grabbed my camera back from him. He chuckled.

“Here,” he grabbed my suitcase, “Follow me.” I picked up my guitar and trotted after him.

“So, where you headed?” He asked looking down at me.

“Florida.” I said grinning.

“Any particular reason?”

“Work.” I answered simply.

“You look a little young to be goin’ on business trips.”

“I’m a YouTuber,” I raised up my camera, “I’m going for Playlist Live, I get to perform and meet all my fans, it’s a really great job.” I explained.

He nodded, “What kind of videos do you post?”

“I’m a comedian.” I smirked at the title.

“So do you like, get paid to do this?”

“Yep. Quite a lot actually, and this trip, free.”

He stopped in front of the gate, “Well here you go, and you’ll be boarding in about 3 minutes.” He smiled, “It was lovely meeting you.” He stuck his hand out and I shook it. He walked away and I sat down on a bench. I took out my phone and sent a text to Cat.

About to get on the plane c:

She texted me back a second later telling me she couldn’t wait.

“Flight 219 to Florida is now boarding rows 1-6.” The intercom sounded.

I looked at my ticket and I was in row #4. I stood up and drug all my shit over. I handed my ticket to the lady and she let me through. I went through the tunnel and found my seat. I shoved my bag in the overhead bin first then my guitar and got settled in my seat next to the window. I shoved my backpack under the seat in front of me.

A girl with deep red, short cut hair sat next to me.

“Hey.” I said smiling.

She turned to look at me.

“Hello,” she grinned.

She had a septum piercing and freckles. Her piercing green eyes stare at me for a moment squinting.

“You know, you look really familiar.” She mumbled.

I held up my camera, “YouTube.”

“Oh yeah! I’ve seen gifs of you on Tumblr.” She laughed.

I studied her face for a second and stuck out my hand.

“Baylee,” I smiled.

“Storm,” She grabbed my hand and shook it.