A tranquil silence settled between Mic and Maggie, signaling a crossroads in their interaction. It was time to exchange contact information or part ways indefinitely. Mic, aware of his short stay in LA, began jotting down his number on a cocktail napkin. Suddenly, Maggie blurted out, "Pete!"

Mic chuckled, "You forgot my name already?"

"No, sorry... Pete is my boyfriend," Maggie confessed.

"Ah, I see. Well, that certainly makes sense. You're quite a catch. Your honesty is refreshing," Mic replied, understanding the situation.

"Refreshing? Does this happen to you often?" Maggie inquired.

"Not really, just a story or two. It's just nice to know there are people like you out there," Mic admitted.

"Well, it's nice to know you're out there too," Maggie said, flashing another flirtatious smile that reignited their forbidden chemistry.

As the plane prepared for landing, Maggie stole a glance at the napkin, noticing Mic's number. Without his knowledge, she crumpled it up and swiftly stashed it away in her bag. Perhaps as secret reminder of their brief but captivating encounter?

"Well, I only have this one bag," Mic announced. "I'm guessing you brought more than just a tiny carry-on and a purse?"

"Yeah, it's quite possible I'll be staying here long-term. I didn't mention it earlier, but I'm here for an audition. If all goes well, I'll be looking for a place to stay. So, I have a few bags checked," Maggie explained.

"Alright, well, let's get to it then," Mic replied. Maggie was taken aback by his willingness to help with her bags, especially after the Pete announcement. This guy is something else, she thought to herself. In another world, maybe things would be different, but she quickly reminded herself to stay true to her personal boundaries. "Thanks, Mic. You're a sweetheart. It”ll be nice to walk with you." Maggie said, appreciating his kindness.

As the duo made their way to baggage claim, their age gap went unnoticed by judgmental eyes. It felt strangely fitting, with an actress sporting a punk-like style walking alongside a middle aged man resembling a final year running back still in his prime. Mic's black Patagonia R-1 pullover which complimented his V shaped torso seemed a bit out of place for the climate, but it added to his expected persona.

Finally, the time came to bid farewell. Maggie received the embrace she had envisioned back at the San Antonio airport. Mic loaded the bags into the waiting Lyft, and with a cowboy-like nod, he disappeared into the crowd. All Maggie could see as she turned around was the top of his backpacker's bag settled and strapped above his hips. She watched his magnificent gait and admired the ass responsible for squatting three times his weight as he weaved through the arrivals crowd, eventually fading from sight. The familiar warm tingle erupted, as she aggressively searched for the crumpled napkin.