Jemma’s POV - Flashback Continued (same day as previous flashback):

            “What?” my mother exclaimed in English this time, pushing her way past me and into the office. “No. You don’t go. You stay here. Tim, tell her.” She listened intently for my father’s reply. Although she could barely speak English, she could at least understand it.

             My father looked back and forth between my mother and myself before slowly removing his reading glasses and placing them on top of a very thick, and very worn book resting upon piles of paper scattered on top of his desk. He drew out a long sigh before, just as methodically, standing. He rounded his desk and stopped to half-sit on the lip of it. I love my father, but at times like this, I found his meticulous ways slightly irritating.

            “Is this really what you want?” He looked over his glasses and down his nose at me inquisitively, using the manipulating condescending stare he had picked up through his years as a lawyer on me.

            “You have no idea”

End of Flashback - Jemma’s POV:

            I was brought back to reality as the flight attendant’s voice once more resounded through the plane, telling the passengers that the flight would now be taking off, and that they apologized for the wait.

            The rest of what she said was lost on me as a fresh wave of panic and nausea washed over me. There would be no more reflecting about how I came to be on the flight; no coherent thought could overpower the booming voice in my head screaming that I was surely going to die and berating myself for being stupid enough to put myself in this situation.

Key’s POV:

            “Finally,” I admonished under my breath as the plane started to lift from the ground. I massaged my temples with my first two fingers, struggling to rid myself of the headaches of the day. Usually I am not this hyped up, and I wouldn’t have done something like yelling at the flight attendant over a shared bathroom. However, after everything that happened today and the fact that I would need the use of the bathroom to get ready for a meeting before we landed, had my nerves on end. Not to mention that I was tired out of my mind because I still had jet lag after traveling to America from South Korea for only two days.

            Another contributing factor to my exhaustion was due to the fact that I had been up the whole night without sleeping. The curator that was assigned to me had to leave early and idiotically took my luggage instead of his by accident. Not only was my handler not doing his job by abandoning me at the meeting, but also by literally abandoning me by taking my luggage, money, cell phone and passport across the freaking ocean.

            As if that wasn’t enough, just after he had left in the middle of the conference, the meeting executive made an announcement that I was to appear on a talk show. An American talk show. Where I would have to speak English. On not only American, but also Korean national television. Oh, how could it have gotten any better ~ please note the heavy sarcasm~?

            Although I am the most fluent in English out of my singing group, I still don’t feel like embarrassing myself by stuttering out my words in front of the world. And to add that extra cherry on top of everything, I have to find one of my own English-speaking fans to judge my performance. It’s just going to add that extra special twist to the show, or at least that’s what the executive said.

            I waved over the stewardess and asked for a glass of wine. She came back with an empty flute and a bottle, and before she left, I stopped her and took the bottle back. I sunk into my seat as I nursed my alcohol, trying to relax as best I could. However, I doubted the Merlot would even take the edge off, so instead I let my head slip back to drift off to some severely needed sleep – after already drinking a few glasses, mind you.

Jemma’s POV:

            Although I was strapped securely into the seat, I still felt as if I were falling out of it as the plane rose from the ground. I clamped my eyelids together and ground my teeth as I tried with everything left not to concentrate on our ascent.

            Oh God, I wish that I had an aisle seat right about now. For that reason alone I probably won’t even make it through the flight. Even if I hadn’t looked, having all of that empty space so close that I could easily see it through a piece of glass – that could also break, by the way – was so horrifying that just thinking about it made me queasy.

            As the flight attendant passed, I leaned over and hastily grabbed a fistful of her sleeve, crumpling it under my ironclad grasp.

            “Can I have a glass of wine – or any alcohol you have is fine,” I feverishly asked her. When she finally came back over with a bottle of red wine, I convinced her to leave the whole container with me. Thank God I am half Korean and that their drinking age is 19 instead of 21, because if she had asked for identification and saw I was American, I’d probably go insane without the alcohol. Also, it’s a good thing to look older than you are, because I had only just turned 18, and wasn’t even the age of consent for Korea. And it’s not that I am a heavy drinker. Actually, I try to avoid drinking. But in certain circumstances – like now, for example – there is a need for a little booze.

            I let out a throaty hum of content as I felt the inebriant burn a path down my throat. I quickly downed four more glasses then let my heavy eyes shut as the alcohol took the tension out of my tight muscles. Slowly, I let myself drift off into oblivion.

Flight Attendant’s POV:

            As I walked away from the woman I glanced around to see her already consuming her second glass of Merlot. I made my way back into the storage area and looked at the supply of drinks where two places on the wine racks were empty.

            Wow, this wine is really popular today. I just really hoped that that didn’t mean I’d have to be babysitting a bunch of drunken passengers. Again.

            Sometimes, I just really hate this job. I let myself fall back into my bunk with a heavy sigh once I reached the attendants’ cabins. I brought the bottle of Merlot I slipped from the storage unit to my lips and swallowed heavily. I have a feeling this is going to be a long flight . . .

***A.N: Yay! Key is finnally getting a part in this. And don't worry; the flight attendant is insignificant. So, I'm sorry this is kind of short. I was writing it between comercials while watching Once Upon A Time, and Jersey Shore (I know, just don't kill me. It's so stupid, but so funny). Also, I proofread this while it was still on Word, and sometimes the site's formatting messes with the layout and grammer, so if you find any mistakes just tell me so I can fix it. Thanks for reading and don't forget to subscribe and comment :D