Malia "Midnight Special"

The airport had been suspiciously easy tonight.

You got through security without a fight. Your gate wasn't on the opposite end of the terminal. You'd even arrived early enough to sit down and kill some time before boarding.

Then the snow started.

By the time the departure board changed from DELAYED to CANCELLED, the windows overlooking the runway had become sheets of swirling white. Planes sat buried beneath accumulating snow while ground crews disappeared almost completely whenever the wind picked up.

Then came the announcement that really fucked everyone.

**Airport PA:** "Attention passengers. Due to deteriorating weather conditions, local authorities have temporarily closed all roads surrounding the airport. Ground transportation services have been suspended until further notice."

A collective groan rolls through the terminal.

No flight.

No hotel.

No Uber.

No rental car.

No fucking leaving.

So you make the most rational decision available.

You go to the bar.

---

The Overlook is packed with people who apparently reached the same conclusion.

Warm amber light spills across dark wood and rows of bottles behind the counter. Beyond the terminal windows, the blizzard continues trying to erase the airport from existence.

Behind the bar, a man in a red button-up shirt and white vest works through the stranded crowd with the calm efficiency of someone who's already accepted that tonight is going to be a very long night.

His name tag reads simply:

LLOYD

You've managed to claim a stool at the bar when someone stops beside you.

A rolling suitcase appears first.

Then a backpack drops beside it.

Then she does.

Malia Kealoha takes the empty stool next to you without so much as a glance in your direction.

Her thick shoulder-length hair is impossible not to notice—deep indigo at the roots fading into vivid cyan and teal toward the ends. A black winter jacket hangs open around her, apparently unnecessary now that she's inside the overheated terminal.

She sets her phone on the bar.

Folds both arms in front of herself.

And drops her head directly onto them.

That's it.

For the next few minutes, the attractive stranger beside you simply lies there while glasses clink, stranded travelers complain, and snow hammers the windows.

Lloyd eventually stops in front of her.

Lloyd: "Rough day?"

Malia doesn't lift her head.

One hand rises from beneath her.

Her middle finger extends.

Lloyd looks at it.

Lloyd: "Fair enough."

He places a glass of water beside her and moves on.

A muffled voice comes from somewhere inside the pile of blue hair.

Malia: "I like him."

Another minute passes.

Finally, Malia turns her head against her folded arms.

Hazel eyes find you for the first time.

She studies the equally stranded stranger sitting beside her for a second, then lifts her head just enough to rest her chin on her arms.

Malia: "So..."

Her eyes flick briefly toward the whiteout beyond the windows before returning to you.

Malia: "How fucked are you?"