I can feel the tension between Brando and Nick. I bet everyone in the airport can feel a drop in the atmosphere as the two of them make eye contact. I don't know the full story between them so I'm not going to jump straight into hating Nick just because Brando doesn't like him. I can make my own judgments.

He's handsome. His hair is cut short so that his tidy stubble blends in with his sideburns. He doesn't have a line on his forehead or dark circles under his eyes. He scratches the side of his mouth and his hands look smooth. It makes me wonder if he's ever worked a day in his life – there are no signs of stress or hardship. I would have thought he was a Ken doll with black hair if I didn't know any better.

Nick is how I would picture a model after photoshop has smoothed out the flaws, while Brando seems to wear his shamelessly. Don't get me wrong, Brando is extremely handsome himself, he's just the opposite to the man standing before me. I could never have seen them as friends to begin with as Nick seems too... proper. He's who I would have picked as a close friend judging on looks alone, not Brando.

But I met Brando first and there's something so much more appealing about him. While I'm sure Nick and I would have been great friends, I can imagine we would be too much alike that our egos would clash. One of us would have to be the best. I don't think Brando thinks like that. He doesn't look at someone and think he needs to be better than them. That must be freeing.

I hold my hand out and Nick takes it. He shakes it firmly and grabs a little too tight. Our eyes remain connected throughout the handshake. It's just a handshake but I learned from my father that a handshake can mean so much more. What Nick just did was assert his dominance. Before he can let go, I shake back a little harder, then slip my hand away from his, our eyes still firmly on one another.

'Daxten, unusual name,' Nick says with a false smile. He isn't interested in getting to know me, I can tell by the way he's trying to stop himself from looking at Brando. He stands on his tip-toes and moves his head robotically. 'Your father must have been feeling a little creative when he named you. Not something I'd call my son. My dog, maybe...'

'My mom gave me my name and I'm glad she did,' I reply. I don't appreciate the back-handed comment.

'I like it too,' Brando says, 'much better than Dick... Nick, sorry. Nick.' He says his name harshly with an emphasis on the 'ick' part. He looks up at me and gives me a knowing look. I suppress a laugh and I smile back.

I need to make a comeback. 'My father doesn't care about names, but he does care about character, what we do with our names. I'm sure your name isn't a reflection of your character, Nick.'

Brando snorts. 'Oh, it is.'

Nick laughs. He can force his mouth to laugh but he can't conceal the temper rising in his eyes. He will have to do better than that.

'I guess you're right, Daxten. Names are not what we should be focusing on. I do believe we have to prove our character... prove ourselves with our actions to cement our place in this world. Fight for what we want, what we deserve.'

'How Napoleon of you.'

The woman's voice on the announcement system stops Nick from replying. 'Call for Flight 143, we are now boarding first class passengers. First class passengers only at this time please.'

I look down at my passport and ticket.

'Ah, she's calling your name,' Nick says once his eyes spot my ticket. There's glee in his voice. I look to the gate and see barely anyone in the line. 'You should probably run before they start boarding the rest of us.'

'Where are you sitting?' Brando asks him.

'20-something,' Nick begins. He pulls out his ticket.

'Thank fuck, we're not even in the same cabin,' Brando shouts as he raises his arms to the sky.

I cut in before Nick can say anything. 'I can board anytime.'

Brando looks at me. He wants to ask me something but he stops himself.

Nick asks instead, 'why don't you want to board now?'

I shrug. 'I don't feel like it.' I turn to Brando. 'Want to grab a coffee to go on the plane with?' I feel like I have to have the upper hand on Nick here. He brings out something primal within me.

Brando is speechless but he nods slowly. We turn and start walking to the coffee shop.

Nick follows. 'I'll just wait at the gate,' he says. 'Are you sure you want another coffee, Brando? You know what happens when you have too much.'

'Thanks for the concern Nick,' Brando replies. 'Do you want anything?'

'I'll take a latte, thank you.'

'Sure.'

I look at Brando. He winks as Nick walks away to the gate. 'We're not getting him a latte.'

Considering I'm paying, I'm relieved. 'I thought you had something wicked up your sleeve.' We have an evil laugh moment before entering the coffee shop.

I really do like this little place. It feels chill, even though all the tables are filled and the noise level is high. I notice the table I was sitting at before and suddenly I miss Leah. I need to tell her something. I could really use her help right now.

'I'm surprised you don't want to board the plane straight away,' Brando says as we join the queue. There are only two people in front of us and they're ordering together.

'I don't want to leave you alone with him,' I admit. 'If I left you two alone, I'm sure things would have become physical. You'd be kicked off the flight before getting on it. I couldn't let that happen.'

'My hero...'

'I didn't mean to intrude, I know you're adult enough to handle your own problems.' Well, I don't really know that, but I assume he can take care of himself, despite his childlike appearance.

'I'm really not,' Brando says. 'Adult is not a word anyone would use to describe me.'

'Then perhaps people aren't giving you enough credit.'

He looks up at me. 'Maybe you're on to something. You're way more intuitive than I originally thought.'

'You thought I was some stuck-up snob who couldn't see past my own nose?'

Brando pauses, then nods. 'Yep, exactly that.'

I'm slightly offended but I find his honesty hilarious. It's our turn to order and I allow Brando to order his fancy coffee again. He wants to make sure it's okay first and I assure him it is.

'And what would you like?' the barista asks me.

'You know what... I'll have the same.'

Brando's mouth drops. 'Are you feeling okay?'

I roll my eyes. 'I know I said I'm not really a bells-and-whistles kind of guy – plain and simple does me fine – but hey, I've got to live a little, right?'

'Exactly, I knew you had it in you.'

It's funny when he speaks like we've known each other since birth. We've only just met but there are moments when we talk to each other and it does feel like we have known each other longer than couple of hours. I didn't realize you can feel so comfortable with a stranger.

I need to stop calling him that. He's not a stranger. But our chance of becoming something more is cut tragically short. The barista hands us our gingerbread lattes and it's time to head to Gate 11.

'This might help me with the take-off,' Brando says as he sips his coffee.

'It will be fine,' I say to assure him. 'The taxi can be a ball-ache when it feels like the plane is driving to another state, but it's not actually that bad.'

I sip the coffee. Brando watches me as I do so. 'Well?'

'So far so good.' It doesn't wow me, but it's still too hot for me to really enjoy the taste. He smiles with satisfaction before we reach Nick at the gate. They appear to be boarding everyone and we're the last ones.

'What happened to the latte?' Nick asked.

'They ran out of take-out cups,' Brando lies. I support his story while taking more sips of my own latte. It's wrong to flaunt what someone else can't have but I'm pretty used to doing that anyway. I don't feel bad for it.

Nick didn't reply. We joined the queue, though it wasn't that long a wait.

'How does your passport photo look?' Brando asks me as I try to slide my ticket inside the passport to the right page.

'Horrendous.' I open it up for him to see.

'Are you joking? You look like you're being snapped by a high-class photographer and he just told you to look at the camera with danger and mystery on your mind.'

'Nah, it's not that good.'

'We see what we want to see, wanna see mine?'

He shows me his. 'They caught me on a windy day.'

'Cute.'

'Thanks.' He looks down to the floor.

We reach the attendant who checks our tickets and passports.

'Mr. Lowe, did you not hear the call for first class passengers?' she asks as she ignores Brando.

'I did.' I don't need to explain myself. She nods and turns to Brando. I wait until he's through before heading through the double doors ahead.

We walk together down a corridor with no one else behind us. Nick is up ahead but out of earshot. Brando and I don't speak but it feels nice to just be in his company. It's weird that he's gone quiet, but I look at him and realize he's becoming anxious.

'I hope the person sitting next to me is nice,' Brando manages to say.

'I'm sure they will be.'

'Hopefully the seat is free. It will be nice to not sit next to anyone and have the space.'

'That would also be pretty good.'

Time starts to feel like it's slowing down the closer we're getting to boarding. The intervals of silence and the fact it's just the two of us in the corridor now drags the time out. I don't know what to say to him – all I know is I don't want to say goodbye. Not yet. Who am I going to talk to now when I'm in my suite?

We turn down the corridor and enter through a door. We end up on the jetway and we're able to see outside. The snow has settled on the ground but there's a clear path behind the plane we're about to board.

The plane is a beauty – she's huge, breath-taking. This is the aircraft I'm going to spend eleven hours inside.

Brando seems to have a different reaction to seeing the plane. His footsteps get smaller and I feel his hand on my jacket. I look down and he's holding onto me. I look at him and he moves his hand away.

'Sorry,' he says.

'Don't be.'