There are not many things that I am afraid of in this world. I like to think that I’m pretty good with insects, scary movies, thunder and even lightning. Flying on an airplane is a completely different story. Maybe my birth mother was afraid or my birth father passed this defective gene to me but I absolutely hate flying. From the take off to the turbulence to the possibility of crashing down at 50,000 feet—flying is never a good experience. Just the word airplane makes my palm sweat to the point where passing out could happen at any second. My aerophobia is so bad that I even considered swimming to Rhode Island for school rather than taking the airplane. I didn’t care that it was physically impossible to swim that kind of distance because I was so desperate. The plane ride to Rhode Island is something that I try very hard to block out of my mind along with the number or barf bags that I used. 

"Alright there, Yeol?" Yumi looks over in my direction. She informs the team that the photographers will be flying out with EXO tomorrow for a performance. The whole team passes glances at me as I look like a sweating ball of disaster. My stomach is turning in circles and I am highly contemplating calling in sick tomorrow.

I clear my throat and cautiously reply, “Yup—yup. No problem here.” 

"Good, alright then," she takes one last look down at her clipboard. "We’ll meet outside Terminal 5 where I’ll hand out all of the plane tickets. We’ll be landing in Gimpo Airport around 3:00 PM. Itineraries are being passed around as I speak. SM will be providing each of you with your own hotel room and per diem for meals. Just follow the schedule and this should be a quick and easy trip.”

I can only imagine how 'quick' the flight will be. My heart is thrashing against my chest and I try to come up with excuses that will get me out of flying. Why couldn’t driving be an option or taking the train? Why flying? Was it really the fastest way to get there? I mean—getting to the airport at peak traffic hours, passing through security and fans? Driving there seems to be the better option. “I think I’m going to be sick,” I whisper to myself and clench my stomach before rushing off to the bathroom.

'You really need to seek help for your flying issues,' Mari advises. After spending a good hour in the bathroom stalls at work, I request a half day and head home. 

I press a cold towel on my head and curl under the blankets, “Sure—seek help for flying phobia but not for my best friend’s voice swimming inside my brain.”

'How are you going to make it through tomorrow? Just thinking about flying puts you into this death-like state.'

"Medicine. Gunna drug myself up on some nausea and sleeping pills. I’ll make it. Taejoon might do something and I need to be there to see his every move. I only have menial pictures and video clips of the antics he does around the company building. I need something on a larger scale that will get the media’s attention."

'Maybe you should just stop trying, Yeol. What if something happens to you? What if he finds out what you're trying to do? He could hurt you.'

I open my eyes and see the emptiness of my life surround every part of my body. There’s nothing that I felt here. There isn’t any love in the life that I’m living. "He already did. Mari, by taking you away—he has already hurt me by doing the worst thing possible." Mari doesn’t answer me. For many years, she has tried to convince me to stop looking for Taejoon, to stop my obsession of trying to get revenge for her. I just don’t know how to stop. I’ve gone so far as to join the company that he works at that I can’t even bring myself to see the way out. Quitting isn’t an option. Not now. Not ever.

'If you do take him down, if you do get the revenge that you seek—what happens afterwards?' Mari asks fearfully but somewhere even without me responding—I think she already knows the answer.

——————————

I stay at the back of the group as Yumi hands out the plane tickets. Gripping onto my backpack straps tightly, my knuckles turn a blazing white as I stare up at the large airport. My nerves are on overdrive and my head is playing out fatal scenarios that can happen while I am up in the air. I am quietly hoping that my ticket is lost and that I don’t have to board the plane. “Everyone have their tickets?” Yumi asks the group. The photographers, managers, and EXO members all nod their head except me.

"Ah," even speaking has become difficult. "I don’t have a ticket, Yumi. Does that mean I can go home?"

"I have it," Sehun pops into view and his illuminating hair is making my guts tousle in ways it isn’t supposed to move. I hold out my hand that is violently shaking from the impending doom and barely voice a 'Thanks' to Sehun. He puts the ticket in my hand and looks down at me as I try to hide my face from the light and the nausea that is caught in my throat. "Yeol, are you okay?" he asks, putting one hand on my shoulder. I nod my head, not answering. Opening my mouth to talk is not a wise decision. I start to follow the rest of the pack to the security checkpoint. Again, I wish that maybe the officers will find me a suspicious traveler and detain me from going on the plane. Standing behind Sehun, my heart is racing. Through the tall glass windows of the airport, I see plane after plane fly into the sky. I wish Mari is here. I could hold onto her hand and she would know exactly what to do in this situation. 

"Ma’am," the security man walks over to me. There’s a beacon of hope as I see the security personnel. I pray over and over for the guy to say—’We’re going to have to apprehend you for questioning.’ “You can just go on through here.” And then—a pitch of darkness wisps over me like a hurricane as he takes me to the other side without even needing to check me for weapons or drugs. 

I walk closely towards the wall in fear that I may need its support if my legs decide to give out at any moment without warning. The flight attendant begins to call out row numbers and I remember that I forgot to even look at what seat I’m assigned. I’m screaming inside my head for it not to be a window seat. As luck wouldn’t have it—given that I don’t have any luck whatsoever—it is a window seat. 5A. Once I find my seat, I quickly close the window view and take a strong pill for my nausea and it goes into effect like a snap of a finger.

I wake up to the sound of a song that I recognize as EXO-M’s — Angel. I squint and realize that I’m still thousands of feet in the air. I grip the nearest thing to me which happens to be Sehun’s arm. “Yah, you gave me a window seat. Are you trying to kill me?” I pull off the headphones of which I have no idea how they are on my ears in the first place. 

"Should’ve told me you hate flying."

“Don’t say that word,” I reply, still not fully registering that I’m holding onto his hand to save the last piece of my sanity.

"What? The word flight? Flying? Airplane? Zoom zoom?”

"Sehun. If I puke on you, do not blame me," He smiles brightly, something that I can’t even fathom producing at this moment. “What are you so happy about?”

He lifts up his arm with my hand still holding onto for dear life. “This.” I quickly let go but find it hard to believe that the palms of my hands stopped sweating so profusely. I come to the conclusion that it was probably the fast reacting medicine. “Okay, since we can’t talk about your flying issues—let’s talk about something else.”

"No."

He disregards my one worded comment. “You were talking to a Mari.”

I’ve avoided Sehun every passing day after meeting with my Mom. I haven’t given him the chance to even see me for more than 1 minute in fear that I would have to explain my phone call with 'Mari'. It is not like I can just tell the kid that I’m hearing voices without him thinking that I need to have my head examined. 

"A different—Mari.”

"Mari’s an uncommon name and you happen to know—two?”

"Sehun is a pretty uncommon name too." It’s actually not but maybe at his young age he won’t notice. 

He scoffs and turns his body towards me. “Nice try. Very convincing. My neighbor’s son’s name is Sehun. There were about ten other students in my school with the name Sehun. My cousin’s dog’s name is Sehun—only because he hates me but that’s beside the point.”

I shrug, “What is your point, Sehun?”

He copies my motion, “I was just making an observation. Who’s this other Mari, then?”

Quickly, I concoct another story that will appease him but with my mind worrying more about the distance between the plane and solid ground, my imagination department isn’t at its peak best. Still, I hope it will derail Sehun’s questions and I won’t have to tell him that it is possible that I might have a loose screw in my head. “I went to school in Rhode Island which is a school in the United States. Mari—this other Mari was my classmate in a digital photography class that I took my final semester. With the time difference, it was night time over in the US for her. That was who I was talking to that morning.” I look into my bag, debating if I should pop another nausea pill. “You didn’t think I was talking to a ghost did you?”

He his lips, as if he is deciding whether to believe me or not. I really do not want to have a conversation with Sehun about Mari’s voice in my head. It is something that I don’t want anyone knowing or trying to help me get rid of right now. He leans back into his chair, “No, I’m not buying it.” He traces the edges of his lips with his left hand as if he is in deep thought. I can only imagine what revelation he is having at the moment. 

Sehun pulls a thin box from behind his back and slides it onto my lap. “What’s this?” I ask, afraid anything surprising will constitute a surprise coming out of my esophagus.

"Just a gift," he nervously clasps his hands together.

"It’s not my birthday. Is this a prank? Because if it is, I’m going to tell you now—I’m feeling really sick so—

"It’s not a prank. It’s a small—gift. That’s all.”

"I don’t like taking things from children—

"Just open it, Yeol," he says and taps the box with his index finger.

I make a face but unwrap the ribbon and lift the cover of the box. I am wishing it is more nausea pills but it turns out to be EXO’s album ‘XOXO’ in its pristine condition. I laugh with whatever I can as I see Sehun’s messy signature on the cover. “Thanks, Sehun—I think but—Luhan already gave me one with everyone’s signature.”

"What?" Sehun looks over at Luhan sitting in the row behind us but has his eyes closed and is sleeping. "He did what—why would he when—you’re lying again, aren’t you?” Sehun tilts his head, unamused. “Doesn’t matter. This one is special.”

I smile and joke, “What’s so special about it? Do you need me to read the 'Thanks to' page where you declare your undying love for Miranda Kerr out loud so that everyone here knows?”

"Yes, but there’s something that makes this version different from any other album out there. It’s one of a kind.”

Before I can respond, turbulence rips through the airplane as we fly through the heavy gray clouds. I grab his hand without thinking again and tightly close my eyes. “You will speak of this phobia of mine to no one,” I say and imply that he will not repeat that I had to hold a young boy’s hand to get through a terrifying flight.

"It can be our little secret." Sehun leans over, takes the headphones and place them back on my head. EXO-M’s — Angel starts to play right where it left off.

For once in my life, the very first time ever—not one barf bag was consumed on the airplane ride. It didn’t mean that I wasn’t close to using one but the music, the pills, and sadly, as much as I hate to admit it, holding onto Sehun’s hand came to as a support. I would continue to hold onto him until we clear the airport by 10 miles but dying by airplane seems to be more favorable than to be eaten alive by teenage fan girls. 

"I need to talk to you, Nuna," Luhan pulls me gently aside by the arm after we finally step on solid ground.

"What is it?"

"I heard you talking with Sehun on the airplane—

"Please don’t say airplane or I might hurl one up any second," I reply, still not over the flying experience.

"Sehun knew a Mari—a Mari that was 5 years his senior. A Mari that was in SM Entertainment and died at 16." Luhan tells me with a worried expression. "He was never the same after she was gone. I don’t know much about what happened to her or why it affected him so much but he never brings up that name. Never, Nuna."

With the mention of Mari, my air sickness completely disappears.

Mari never mentioned Sehun. She called him 'Parrot Rainbow Boy' the first time I met him. There was no hint of her familiarity with Sehun and I can only wonder why she never told me. I grip onto my backpack as the security guards direct the group out of the airport. With the swarm of fans crowding in on the team, asking Sehun about Mari will have to wait. I look up to see in front of me and find a young fan girl get pushed in front of Taejoon.

My camera is always positioned around my neck so as soon as I saw Taejoon’s arm come up to strike, my camera was already clicking away—capturing the heinous moment. The poor girl’s glasses comes flying off of her face as she grabs her forehead in pain. Taejoon had the nerve to hit her in front of so many people without a care in the world. I was beyond angry at his actions that my thoughts of Mari and Sehun vanishes. I witness another example of what kind of person Manager Choi Taejoon was and it pains me to think that Mari had to endure life with this monster.

I rush up to the girl and search around for her glasses. “Here,” I hand her the black glasses frame and ask if she is okay. “I am so sorry for what he did to you.” I lower down to her height, “I promise you, he will pay for his actions.”

The girl tries to hold back her tears and as she removes her hand, I see her skin turn red caused by Taejoon’s hand. She silently nods her head and I feel sick to my stomach. I hate the fact that every single thing that I’ve seen him do so far is not enough to give him the punishment that he deserves. She finally says, “I wanted to give Sehun oppa a letter and got pushed by the other girls. I didn’t mean to get in their way.” Her eyebrows furrow together and her lip trembles. “Does Sehun oppa hate me now? Is that why his manager hit me?”

It wasn’t the response that I was expecting but then again—she is a starstruck fan girl. “No, never. The boy can’t even hate a fly let alone a sweet fan that has come to welcome him.” I look into my carry-on bag and grab the signed ‘XOXO’ album that Sehun gave me while we were on the plane. As I’m about to hand it to her, another arm reaches out before I can give her the CD. 

"I hope this makes up for what my manager did to you." Sehun signs the album and hands it to the girl. She immediately bursts into tears from happiness. The noise in the airport erupts to an unbearable level from his actions. Barely making out what she says in return, she thanks Sehun and I, jumping up and down with her friends in joy.

"That was nice of you," I tell him as we finally step into the van. Sehun doesn’t look at me but follows behind me as we sit in the back row. The other members are chatting with one another but Sehun stares ahead, clenching his jaw. He bites the bottom of his lip—a habit that I am seeing more from Sehun as he continues to sulk in the corner. "Are you okay?"

He looks out the window and avoids the question. 

"Did I do something to upset you?" I ask. 

"I specifically gave you that album and you were going to hand it off to another fan like it was no big deal."

"It’s just an album, Sehun. I’m sure you can sign me another one."

"It’s one of a kind, Yeol. I already said that there is no other album like that in the world."