[CONTENTID1] THE PILOT [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2] 

Namjoon + OC (Geum Jun Ri)

Word Count: 7.2k 

Written by: AnnieWilson

NOTE: I am not an flight expert but I did do as much research as I could before and whilst writing this oneshot. 

“And, so, this unexpected and sudden eruption that occurred just last night is said to be the most powerful one yet from the Mayon Volcano, which is known for being the most active volcano in the Philippines. Civilians in Taiwan have reported seeing large, dark ash clouds nearing the gulf of the island even though, as previously stated, the volcano only erupted yesterday at 8:43pm and given how far away the two islands are, the extent of the coverage is impressive as it is rare. However, volcanologists assure the people that the clouds will not spread much further and flights outside that region will not be affected…” 

“This is so stupid,” Geum Jun Ri mutters for what is probably the hundredth time. She doesn’t mean the boring news report that’s playing on the giant, flatscreen TV above her. She means being here, in this airport, right now.

She folds her legs one way but quickly changes her mind and folds them the other way. Beside her, her fiancé — much to her displeasure — is fidgeting nervously.

They shouldn’t be there, Jun Ri thinks. They shouldn’t be here — together. They should be broken up, she meant to do it a few weeks ago but Luhan begged her not to do it — at least not until after the trip. 

She and Luhan have been together since high school. They’re childhood friends but their parents put them in an arranged marriage as soon as she turned 18, Luhan being two years older. The Geum parents believe Luhan is the best choice for their daughter, even if he has no money.

It’s only because he hasn’t yet inherited his family’s business — that’s all. But Jun Ri is sick of it. She’s sick of being in a relationship that lacks emotional depth. All Luhan has to him are his looks, with very little charm. Sure, he’s polite most of the time but manners won’t win her affections.

He doesn’t work or go to school. She has two jobs and is a full-time student in college, in her third year of aeronautical engineering. She has a year left until she graduates and has to find a job — she doesn't want those earnings to go to Luhan, too. She wants her own life. She wants a real relationship, based on mutual respect and feelings.

But, above all, Geum Jun Ri wants to experience true freedom.

“Please, jagiya, just endure it for a little while longer,” Luhan says, snapping her out of her wishful thinking. Jun Ri scoffs as she crosses her arms and grumbles under her breath. Luhan leans in to kiss her cheek but she swiftly dodges it. “Jagiya.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

He makes a strangled sound — a frustrated, hopeless sound that does little to guilt her. Jun Ri might feel bad if Luhan actually valued her thoughts and opinions. But he doesn’t. All he sees her as is a source of food, income and a means to keeping a roof over his head since he lives in her house, with her parents.

“Jun Ri-ah, won’t you stop this?” he asks, biting his lip. She doesn’t spare him a glance but, instead, continues to stare ahead. “Jun Ri-ah, look at me. Please. Don’t be like this. Let’s just enjoy this trip, maybe it’ll bring us closer together.”

“I hate Thailand,” she states bitterly — a total lie. She’s visited it before, years ago with her parents. There, she made a good friend by the nickname BamBam. They keep in touch often — but Luhan doesn't need to know that. “And, to make it worse, I don’t want to go there with you.”

“I’m your fiancé,” he reminds her.

“Not for much longer,” she retorts, flashing him her empty ring finger. After the argument they had a few weeks ago, when she tried to leave him and he ratted her out to her parents, she took off the ring and threw it out. Her parents forced her to look for it but it was too late, it was long gone and she couldn’t find it anywhere.

It was a cheap one, too, so there isn’t the guilty conscience of losing a diamond ring.

Her parents are blind to the burden that is Lu Han. They think he can do no wrong and that their daughter, their weird daughter that would rather study “plane how-to’s” instead of business or at least cosmetics, is just being difficult and playing hard to get.

In order to “rekindle the intimacy” between the couple, the Geum parents have offered them first class tickets to Koh Samui, Thailand. Luhan, the little leech, was quick to accept them while Jun Ri received a scolding for being “ungrateful” and “undeserving” of a future husband as sweet and enthusiastic as Luhan.

She snorts, shaking her head at the memory.

“Am I really that bad to be around?” Luhan asks and she finally turns her head to look at him. He’s a handsome man, with short, feathered blond hair, doe eyes and small, pink lips. It’s the doe eyes that fool people — that make them think he’s innocent.

Sometimes, Jun Ri wonders if he’s truly that bad or if she’s just making him out to be that way in her head. But then he’ll do something like use up all her savings to buy himself a new pair of shoes or steal her car to go on a “day trip” with his friends, and she’ll realise she was right all along.

Lu Han is a conniving little leech.

“Yes,” she deadpans, and turns away from him again. He lets out an annoyed sigh and folds his arms, also looking away. 

“Attention, passengers. Boarding for BigHit Airways, flight number 128 to Bangkok International Airport will commence in twenty minutes. Please ensure you have your carrier bags, passports and boarding passes with you and ready to…”

“I’m going to get a drink,” Jun Ri mutters, getting up from her seat. She has twenty minutes until boarding and that means twenty minutes until she has to put up with Luhan for almost six consecutive hours…and that’s just the first flight. They have a second flight that will take them from Bangkok to Koh Samui.

“Oh, get me something, too,” Luhan calls out as she walks away. She stops, takes a deep breath, before resuming her march to the furthest airport convenience store she can find, near the arrival terminal rather than the departure. 

Truthfully, she doesn’t care if she misses her flight. She’ll just find a way to pay her parents back for the ticket. That would be more pleasant than spending two weeks with Lu Han in a couple’s hotel room.

"Please, yeobo, don't do this," a male pleads into his phone. Jun Ri, looking around for a certain brand of soft drink, looks up in curiosity. How can she help herself if the twenty-something year old man — he would look younger if it weren't for the stress lines marring his handsome face —is standing right next to her?

"Ga In, just— give me a break, will you? I'm stressed enough as it is— no, of course I know that. I know you have a lot on your plate, too, I'm not trying to say...Ga In, just listen to me. Just this one time, the last time. After this, I'll stop. I won't go for any more promotions or apprenticeships, okay? Please, give me another chance. Just— Ga In, no, don't hang-"

The man's face contorts with desperation and despair. He looks around him, as if checking that no one was listening in on his phone call, and Jun Ri quickly averts her gaze. Only once the man walks away does she stare after him in question. She tuts and shakes her head, feeling slightly sorry for him.

He looked nice.

She then continues browsing the drinks’ selection of a store, her eyes searching for her favourite soft drink but upon not finding it, she decides to settle for an alternative. She picks up the can of Seven Up but a voice rings through, stopping her.

“I wouldn’t,” it says. She glances up and sees a tall man, probably in his early to mid twenties, with short, dark blond hair. He has big, single-lidded eyes, round cheeks and, when he smiles at her, a deep dimple appears on his left cheek. He’s wearing a black, official uniform and a hat that covers most of his hair, except for the little tufts at the ends.

“Excuse me?” Jun Ri squawks, then clears and blinks rapidly. She tries again: “Excuse me?”

The young man nods at can in her hand, “That. I wouldn’t, it doesn’t taste the same.”

She finally catches on and makes a prolonged “ah” sound, then adds: “But — they don’t have Sprite. This is the next best thing.”

“There’s this sparkling water, lemon flavoured. It’s all natural — or organic, however you want to say it,” he takes a bottle out of the black flight bag in his right hand. As she looks down, she takes full note of his outfit and the aviator badge on the left side of his chest.

“Here, have it,” he says, making her look back up and blush when she realises he caught her staring. She sees that he’s holding the bottle out to her and quickly shakes her head.

“Aniyo, I couldn’t-”

“It’s okay, take it,” he insists, “I have about nine more bottles.” At her sceptical expression, he opens up his pilot case and shows her the inside where, true enough, there seem to be several bottles of the same flavoured sparkling water. “See? And it takes just like Sprite, only healthier.”

“Oh, thank you,” she says, bowing, then straightening back up. “Are you a pilot?”

“Captain,” he confirms. She nods, impressed and not hiding it. He looks a bit young to be a captain — in the movies, people in those positions are always a bit older. Seemingly reading her mind, the young man explains: “I graduated high school at 16 and started studying early. I’ve been in the game for quite a while now.”

“How old are you?” she asks, then realises how rude that is. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m twenty-five,” he answers, quirking a brow as he returns the question. 

“Twenty-one,” she replies, then goes on to tell him about her studies in university. He never interrupts, unless to ask a question about what a particular word means or why she enjoys a certain field. He knows a lot, the young man, though it’s to be expected since her major and his occupation are related.

She learns that he works for BigHit Airways and will be piloting the plane she’s meant to board in a matter of minutes, and that his co-pilot is a lazy, somewhat unhygienic man with bad breath and an unfortunate habit for leaning in when he talks to you. She also learns that he has no siblings, but many aunts, uncles and cousins that always visit and beg him to hand out free flight tickets to tropical islands.

She empathises with him, since she also has her very own, personal beggar that never ceases to ask for things she couldn’t possibly afford and, even if she could, wouldn’t just hand them out for free. Especially not to someone she can hardly stand.

“You’re a smart woman,” he remarks and Jun Ri blushes, waving a dismissive hand at him. “No, really. Especially for being so young. Your boyfriend is a lucky man.”

At this, she freezes and bites her lip.

“Actually, I don’t-” She stops and lets out a breath. “It’s…complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” the young man asks, chuckling. “If I were him, I’d un-complicate it real quick.” She blushes again and looks away, his dimpled smile a little too much for her to handle in such close proximity. 

“Attention, passengers of flight 128 to Bangkok International Airport. The plane is now boarding, please ensure you have all your belongings with you, and your passport and boarding pass ready to be checked by security at Gate 35.”

“Ah, ,” the young man curses. “Pardon my language. It’s just-” He checks the gold watch on his wrist and curses again, immediately apologising to Jun Ri, though she doesn’t mind all that much. Even if she was raised in a strict, Christian household, she’s starting to think that there’s not much this young man could do to put her off. He’s smart, kind, successful and…handsome.

Very, very handsome.

“As the pilot, I was supposed to be on that plane a while ago,” he explains as he zips his case back up. He extends his hand to her. “It was lovely meeting you…”

“Geum Jun Ri,” she tells him, shaking his hand which almost seems to swallow hers up. “It was lovely meeting you too.”

“Namjoon,” he informs her. “My name is Kim Namjoon.” They stare at each other for a little while longer before the familiar bells ring again and he swears, yet again, and waves to Jun Ri as he darts off in the direction of Gate 35.

Jun Ri stares after him for a while before leaving the store and strolling to where she left Luhan. Except, he’s nowhere to be seen.

“Jun Ri!” 

She turns around and finds him standing in the queue, with their luggage, whilst waving at her frantically. She rolls her eyes before slowly making her way over to him. He looks her up and down and frowns, a little pout forming.

“You didn’t buy me anything?” he asks and she shoots him an annoyed glare, shutting him up. She then holds up the bottle in her hand, not taking notice of the stupid grin on her face. Luhan peers at her out of the corners of his eyes but says nothing.

Jun Ri twists the lid off and takes a sip of the contents. She grins wider when she realises that Namjoon was telling the truth.

It tastes exactly like Sprite.

“Annyeonghaseyo, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. My name is Kim Namjoon and I hope to God I know how to fly this thing.” 

The passengers laugh, including Luhan and Jun Ri, though behind her laugh is something sly, something knowing.

“For your sake, of course. I have a parachute, you guys don’t.” 

The passengers laugh again and some of the flight attendants roll their eyes, though the smiles on their faces say that they’re used to dealing with their jokester of a captain.

“I’d like to welcome you to BigHit Airways flight number 128 which will be taking you from Seoul to Bangkok, Thailand. Our flight time will be 5 hours and 45 minutes, if I don’t steer us in the wrong direction. We ask that you fasten your seatbelts, as well as those of any children on board with you. To do that…okay, if you don’t know how to insert a seatbelt, you probably shouldn’t be out in public unsupervised.”

Another round of laughter.

“I’ll ask you to please focus your attention on our beautiful — except you, Jongin, you ugly freak — flight attendants who will now demonstrate the safety procedures everyone on this flight must abide to whilst aboard the plane. Thank you.”

A pretty, sharp-featured woman in uniform steps forward and Jun Ri, following the instructions, focuses her attention on her. “Hello, ladies and gents…”

Fifty minutes later, the plane has taken off and is high up, flying smoothly. A few members of the cabin crew are going down the aisles with carts full of food and beverages, as well as other knicknacks.

Jun Ri and Luhan are in the first class section, where the seats are ridiculous in size and separated one by one. Jun Ri hates to say it but…she could be having a worse time. Being in this section means she’s not totally glued to Luhan’s side — in fact, she has a door which she can close and shield herself with from the young man.

She smirks and leans back, putting in her earphones — she forgot her noise-cancelling headphones at home — and plays the track list from her favourite movie: She’s The Man. In the next cubicle, Luhan is sitting, bored, staring at his fiancée’s closed door. He’s hungry and wants to ask for food but he knows she’ll kill him for disturbing her.

Maybe he should ask her to buy him cologne instead. Would she mind that?

Meanwhile in the flight deck, Namjoon and the co-pilot are discussing light topics. Namjoon’s the talkative type, he likes being friendly and he doesn’t mind giving out personal information and telling stories to bond with a person.

But Minseok. Even if the older man can be a little funny, he always looks like he’s in need of a good wash and he gets too close to Namjoon when he talks — and he’s touchy, too. Now, Namjoon is not against skinship nor is he a homophobe.

He just doesn’t like dirty people.

“So, like, he was, like, “if you e on a plane, do they charge you with hi-jacking?”” the shorter, chubby-cheeked man recites, his words followed by rumbustious laughter. Namjoon chuckles, though it’s a little forced because he’s heard the same joke about a hundred times.

And that’s a hundred times every single time he flies with Minseok.

“Ah, that’s a good one,” the mousy-looking man sighs, a content smile on his face. He then leans forward a little and presses a button. “Chaerinnie, bring me a drink, sweet cheeks.”

“Get it yourself, ,” Chaerin, one of the fligh