you were sat behind a bar, one of the only ones left in the city that were safe for 828'ers to go to. you stared at the granite countertops as you sipped on your margarita.
a man slipped into the seat next to you, that's all you could tell. you really didn't care, it didn't matter. you were more focused on trying to distract yourself from your life, it wasn't time to focus on anyone else's either.
"could i order 2 shots of tequila by any chance?" his voice caught you by suprise. it had a hint of mischeif in it. what could it hurt to find out a little about the mystery man?
"one of those days, huh?" you say, laughing lightly. you looked up to the man next to you. fair skin, black hair, some facial hair. he wasn't bad looking, you couldn't lie. he looked oddly famillar, you couldn't place it though.
"more like my life." he replies, chuckling. he crosses his arm over his chest, leaning back in the barstool.
"i get it, trust me." you say, poking your straw at the ice in your drink. he looks over at you, checking you up in down. he was either checking you out, or deciding whether you could be his next murder victim.
you look up, a look of confusion in your eyes. "you checking me out over there?" you say, raising an eyebrow, a smile still on your face. you honestly couldn't believe some stranger was making you smile like this.
he stops scanning your body and looks back at your face, holding eye contact. "sort of, princess. you're very attractive, i won't lie. but you also look really familiar." he replies.
he shuts his eyes, and then spits out. "oh my god, you were on flight 828 with me. i remember you from the airport, the pretty girl in front of me. i was 33 E." he says.
"oh my god. you're eagen, right? i was 32 D." you smile. the hot guy from the plane, that's where you knew him. he even remembered you, he thought you were pretty. a pink blush falls lightly across your cheeks.
"that would be me." he says, throwing the shot of tequila down his throat, shaking his head afterwards.
"i remember. the hot guy during boarding." you say smoothly. he takes a look over at you, smirking.
"smooth, y/n." you shot your head over from your drink, to the man to your left. he even remembered your name?
"photographic memory." he says, smiling. "plus,
no one could forget that pretty face." he replies, winking before downing his second shot.
only in new york city, aboard flight 828, do instances like these occur.
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𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 828 || 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒
Fanfiction"𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨?" the story of flight eight-two-eight, and the phenomenon behind it. if you're anything like me and have fallen in love with the characters of this show, grab some popcorn and enjoy. i do not own an...
