EVERLAST [EXO Baekhyun]

CHAPTER 1 - DISCONNECTED

"The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected."

She shoved the phone back into her pocket, wiping a stray tear and staring out the window once more. Not even a goodbye. Not that she ever got that from him, but it was worth a try. A valiant effort, as her sister would say. Another person she hadn't seen in ages. Another she most likely wouldn't see again. The thought panged her heart, but she forced it away. Today was supposed to be about her. How come that always changed?

The plane bumped twice while a flight attendant rolled her cart down the aisle, halting in front of the woman's seat. "Miss, may I offer you some refreshments?" she asked, a kind smile plastered on her face. Fake. All fake. The woman returned the fake smile.

"No." The cart squeaked in horror as it marched away, her eyes returning to the landscape below. Her fingers scratched the tiny windowsill, scraping up dirt much to her surprise. She wiped her mucky nails on the back of the seat in front of her, going back to sinking in her seat and staring.

There was a tap on her shoulder, her head swiveling to glance at whoever dared disturb her rest. "Excuse me, do you happen to have any extra napkins? My son is making a mess," the man behind her said.

She flickered her eyes down to her purse, noting the two she had left, then she snapped her eyes back up. "Sorry. I used my last one an hour ago."

The man sighed his annoyance, going back to sulking while rocking his kid back and forth. The woman grabbed her phone once more, expecting emails and texts. None. She struggled to find something to do to pass the time, her feet tapping against the ground. She played some mental tic tac toe, winning each time. She got so bored that at one point she played rock paper scissors with her left and right hand.

Hours passed of this boredom, her phone drained of battery like her mind. The same squeak came back, the attendant not bothering to stop this time. "Excuse me," she called. The attendant stopped, shifted her gaze, and bit back a groan when she saw who was calling. "Water?"

The attendant handed it to her, the woman snatching it away. "Ma'am, may I ask your name?" the attendant questioned.

"No," she replied, popping off the cap for the water. "Why?"

"Have I seen you on this flight before?" she asked, not answering her previous question.

"I doubt it." The short answer was enough to cause the attendant to back off, the woman averting her eyes to tell the worker that the conversation was over. She took the hint, pitter-pattering back to the corner of the plane.

Her phone buzzed, the woman springing to action. She whipped it out of her pocket, her lips twitching downwards when she saw it wasn't a text, rather an email from Mr. Morell. She tucked it away in time for the plane to shake. The girl trembled from the motion, a wave of nausea poking against the pits of her stomach. She planted her water inside the compartment in front of her, trying to shake the sensation.

She casted her gaze to the ground, observing how her purse was shaking. Almost unnoticeably, but it was rocking back and forth. Her brows creased, her lips pursing from the sight. A flight attendant rushed down the aisle, this one different from the one she interacted with. Her eyes lit up with confusion, but the attendant ran into the cockpit without meeting her steady glare.

"Miss, I'm sorry, could you ask the person in front of you if they have a wipe or napkin?" the same man from hours before asked, "my wife found an extra wipe last time, but we're out now."

She let her hands clench in and out of fists, warm breaths leaving her nose. "Fine," came the answer. She leaned forward only to get knocked back in her seat at a sudden bump. "Jesus we need better pilots," she mumbled, attempting to lean forward once more. This time the bump that came was so violent her vision dazed for a brief second. When she got control of her senses again, the first thing she heard was a scream.

A crimson shade filled the vicinity, cloaking her face in a darkness that had her body shuddering. The water on her cheeks had been pouring from her eyes without her noticing, her hands clicking the seatbelt into place without them telling her to. "Attention all passengers, this is your captain speaking, we're experiencing heavy turbulence from an unexpected storm. Please remain calm and put your seatbelts on," the intercom announced, static surrounding the man's tone. Attendants rushed around, helping those struggling to strap in.

The woman clutched her armrests, her head kept stiff and her eyes remaining on the top of the seat in front of her. The plane lurched, dropping altitude at a pace she thought wasn't possible. Screeches reverberated off the walls of the plane, circulating around her mind. Her lips rubbed together, her tongue and throat voided of moisture. She pondered how she'd calm herself, but no solutions ever came.

The only thing that came was the frantic voice of a flight attendant.

"Brace positions! Everyone in brace positions, head down head forward, head down head forward!" The words repeated themselves over and over, the woman shifting into position with clammy hands grasping at the material of the chair in front of her. Her head rested on the top of the seat, her hands placed on either side of it. The plane bumped so harshly a man got thrown from his seat, an attendant sprinting over to him. She stared at the whole process, wondering if they could strap back in before another harsh strike.

They couldn't. Another came, throwing them as if they were weightless. She let her eyes rip away from them, her hands grasping on empty air. Her nostrils flared up from the putrid aroma of vomit brushing through the air. Her ears twitched more and more as voices called out from fear. Some were screaming into their phone. Some were calm, telling who she assumed were their significant others or family that they were about to crash. She contemplated going for her phone, but she knew what the answer would be the second she pressed 'dial'.

Her stomach nearly flew to her throat when the plane dipped, speeding nose-first toward the ground. She yelped without meaning to, shouts of dismay sounding off in the room. She attempted to grab something, anything that would give her a false sense of security, but no item around her did the job.

The dipping came and went, hitting her just as hard each time. Her body quivered from the swell of emotions that rose inside her, the plane losing altitude at a rapid pace. The brief glimpse she got of the outside made it seem like they'd impact in mere seconds. Those seconds passed and passed some more. Still nothing. The pilots were putting up an amazing fight. But that didn't matter.

The crash still came anyway...