Check Mate

Chapter 3

Writer's note: Hey anyone who's reading my story if you previously read this chapter it did not properly upload the full chapter before but it should be fixed now sorry and happy reading!

The video Ira showed me was incredibly embarrassing and sad, but surprisedly well shot and in high-definition. So, on the negative side, my life is absolutely off the rails and I hit rock bottom. But, on the positive side (no matter how small) all of my good angles were hit.

"You really don't half-ass anything Wilson," Ira commented, still across from me.

I didn't answer I was too busy trying to make sense of the scene that I was watching. It was obviously me on the plane and I was twirling through the aisle singing a dreadful rendition of The Winner Takes it All. It was as if I was watching a stranger.

"Did you film this?" I whispered, eyes still glued to the screen.

"No, keep watching."

As if on cue, Ira's tall frame came into the picture, approaching zombie me with a cautious unease. When I saw him I only stopped dancing down the aisle to allow enough time to grab Ira's hands and force him to dance with me, swaying and twirling into him. The unrecognizable me was yelling gleefully for Ira to "Duet with me!" in the video. Instead of dueting with me, he restrained me. I handed Ira's phone back to him, seeing enough to traumatize me for a lifetime and then preceded to put my head into my hands.

Ira cleared his throat, but my forehead was still attached to my hands.

"Some teenager was recording you, I got her to send it to me and then delete it. Frankie and Collin also made sure no video of the... incident was kept by anyone. You know how persuasive Frankie can be." Ira was obviously trying to put me at ease, but I was devastatingly ashamed.

I kept my head down, trying to decipher what the hell happened on the plane.

About 20 mins after I took my cocktail of Dramamine, Xanax and rosé my eyes opened from what I thought was a deep sleep. I was very wrong. Well, partially wrong, although my eyes were open my brain most certainly was not. I blinked a few times and slowly looked around at the people around me. The stewardess passed me at this moment.

"Hey!" I popped out.

The stewardess gave me a patient look, "Do you need more rosé miss?"

I stared at her a moment in a daze, not really comprehending what she asked me. I was too busy trying to differentiate between her two heads.

"Miss?" She asked, now looking worried.

I shook my head as a way to snap out of my daze.

"Where's the bathroom?"

"It's straight back and to the right," she replied giving me one last once over and then continued on her rounds.

I tried to get up, but I couldn't. I'd forgotten that I was strapped in. Unbuckling became a challenge in it's self. While fumbling with the latch the belt loosened, so I decided to adapt and overcome by just sliding down underneath the belt to the floor. And now that I was on the floor, why would I get up? Crawling was clearly the more efficient option instead of walking. I crawled my way toward the bathroom, but my journey was interrupted by a beautifully posh British accent.

"Pardon me miss, are you quite alright?" The voice came to my left.

I drowsily raised my head to meet the eyes of Colin Firth. But, my mind did not equate him as Colin Firth, but as the noble Mr. Darcy in that exact moment.