The driver stopped at the private airport where my father's private jet was waiting, ready to take us back to Paris, my home.
Abby, Maga, Tristan, and I were the last to arrive, as my friend wanted to take the longest route to take one last look at the streets of New York, as it was uncertain when she would visit the city again, since we would be extremely busy with the collaboration project upon our return.
Maga, who was in the passenger seat, was the first to get out of the van and took Tristan's things before walking away. Abby and I took longer to get out, as my friend was touching up her makeup and asked me to wait for her, while she kept talking incessantly about how cold and indifferent Vincent was to her since she dared to kiss him. He didn't speak to her again, unless it was for
