Chapter Text
The only thing scarier than wanting something impossible, is actually getting it.
Sonya dug at the thick green substance stuck to the purple seat cushion. Nail polish! Of course it was. She took a moment to admire whichever brave passenger managed to paint their nails on a flight from Singapore to Bangkok. Less than three hours, and it couldn’t have waited until they got home.
The things we do for beauty. Sonya smiled, looking at her own nails, chipped from her long first week as an air hostess. It was such hard work, grueling hours, so many passengers, and oh god how she missed her mom.
But it was her dream. Hers. And she made it happen.
She stood up, bending to avoid banging her head on the compartment above her – again.
A quick scan of the plane told her she was alone, assigned the last round of cleaning before the end of her shift. The last round, the last hour, the last shift.
She sighed, shoulders drooping, and grinned at the floor like an idiot.
“It was so cool!” she announced to the empty plane. She’d done 4 duty days this week. Eight whole flights, even though they’d told her no one counted flights. Singapore, Macau, Shanghai, even a long haul to Mumbai. She just couldn’t help it. She had to tell her mom.
Stepping carefully out of row 14, Sonya made her way up the central aisle.
Her new crewmate Sam rolled her eyes as Sonya reached the front cabin. “So happy,” Sam said. “First week honeymoon phase. It’ll pass.” Sam smiled though, so Sonya knew she was joking.
Sonya put a hand to her chest. “You mean it won’t be this wonderful every week?” She frowned in horror.
Sam laughed, and slapped Sonya on the back.
“I like you Nong. You’re fun.” she said.
“I like you too,” Sonya said lightly, and meant it. Everyone on her new crew was so friendly and tried to make her feel welcome. Even the pilots, though they were older and more formal about it. “I was worried…” she trailed off. “I wasn’t sure how it would be on my first week. There are so many stories on IG about first days at work. But it’s been really nice. Thank you Phi. Really.” Sonya put her hands together and bowed.
“You’re welcome,” Sam said warmly. She reached out to grip Sonya’s shoulder briefly. “It won’t always be this easy though. You had a light first week, but sometimes it’s a tough job. Don’t expect everything to go like you expected.” Sam looked stern for the first time that week, so Sonya nodded fast.
“Yes ma’am,” she said seriously. “This was my dream, but I know it’s a real job. I’m ready, I promise.”
“Good!” Sam dropped her hand, clearly fighting another smile. “Go call your mom. I know you want to.”
She really did want to. Sonya left the airport, walked to her car in the overnight parking lot, and drove straight home.
An hour later, she sprawled across her narrow bed in the small Bangkok apartment the airline paid for and waited for her mom to answer the phone.
“Sonya! I haven’t talked to you in days.”
“Sorry,” Sonya said immediately. “I had an overnight last night and the night before.”
“It’s okay.” She could hear her mom smiling through the phone.
Sonya told her every detail about the excitement of the first week, even the green nail polish. “It’s a good color for summer,” her mom said, and Sonya laughed. “You never change,” Sonya said.
“You have,” her mother said. “You sound happy. I know how much you wanted this job, and how hard you’ve been working.”
“Yeah,” Sonya said absently.
“What’s wrong?” Her mother asked right away.
“Oh nothing!” Sonya tried to be cheerful, to hide the ache in the back of her throat.
But her mother always knew. “You’re lonely aren’t you?”
Sonya laughed sadly. “A little. I love this job, I really do. I just go home to my apartment, or my hotel room and I’m alone, you know?”
“I’ll visit you soon honey, as soon as I can.” Her mom sounded guilty.
“No!” Sonya said. “You have to work. It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
And she would. She just needed some sleep.
When Sonya finally went to bed a few hours later, she let herself imagine the door of her bedroom cracking open, and someone kind and warm and careful pulling back the covers and getting into bed with her. She thought about warm, strong arms circling her chest, and a light kiss landing on her forehead. She could almost imagine a face, a glimpse of long, dark hair and a beautiful smile.
She’d always wanted the life she had, always wanted to travel and see the world. But though she would never admit it out loud, more than anything, she wanted someone to travel with.
Half awake, half asleep, her drowsy mind conjured a voice.
Sonya.
She mumbled to herself, “I wish…” Sleep took the unfinished thought.
The following Tuesday, Sonya got to work early for a 9:00 flight to Phuket.
So far, the second week was just as exciting, no matter what Sam said. Sonya was getting better at putting on her fancy blue uniform and shiny white scarf. Making sure her stockings were clean, her shoes polished, her makeup perfectly applied. She’d been practicing her polite smile so long she could barely remember her life before she knew how to say, “Sir, can you please fasten your safety belt?”
Even her crewmates were impressed by how smoothly she recited warnings and how warmly she greeted the passengers. It all felt so right.
At least, until that Tuesday morning.
Sonya was part of the greeting crew and welcomed their Phuket-bound passengers aboard with as much enthusiasm as she could. She smiled at a little boy with a toy dog, and his exhausted parents. She held an older woman’s cane as she stepped across the gap. She directed the rest of the early-boarding passengers to their seats, switching to English and back as quickly as two cups of coffee allowed.
By the time the last group of passengers boarded, Sonya was already thinking about her third cup of coffee. She greeted an older man in a military uniform – she didn’t recognize the colors – and then she stopped, her smile frozen in place.
A young woman about her age stepped onto the plane. She was tall, like Sonya, with long, dark hair. She wore a fitted, sleeveless top, simple jeans, and a pair of red running shoes. A yellow backpack dangled from one of her hands, and she pushed a small black suitcase. Totally ordinary.
Except she was gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous. Sonya couldn’t look away.
Nearly stumbling, she handed the girl a warm towel. “Sawadee ka!” Sonya managed. “Welcome aboard flight…”
But the girl walked right past her, giving Sonya nothing but a casual nod.
Sonya had a moment of panic, wondering if she’d said something weird. She stepped over to the front-cabin where Sam was preparing breakfast. “Sam! Do I have something on my face?” she hissed.
Sam peeked out and looked Sonya up and down. “Nope. Why?”
“Nevermind,” Sonya said, annoyed at herself for caring.
She tried to summon her earlier mood, resurrecting her smile and greeting the rest of the oncoming passengers. But she couldn’t quite forget that girl, her beautiful, unsmiling face, those long lashes, perfect, red lips, the smooth skin of her arms.
Get it together! Sonya told herself. This is work.
An hour later, she’d already walked past the girl’s seat three times, trying to see her better. It was crazy behavior, and Sam kept giving Sonya weird looks from the other side of the drink cart. They were moving down the aisle together, handing out food, coffee, and soda. The smell of shrimp porridge was making Sonya’s mouth water.
As luck would have it, Sonya was the one to lean down to the unfriendly girl and place the container of porridge on her tray.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Sonya asked, glad her voice sounded normal. She tried not to look at the girl too closely, worried about how her heart sped up at the sight of those bare, defined shoulders.
Of course, Sonya couldn’t get through two weeks without a new crush. It was very like her to want what she couldn’t have.
“No,” the much-too-beautiful girl said. She tilted her head to look at Sonya more carefully.
Sonya held her breath, lost in those intense, dark eyes. They were big and deep and mysterious. And strangely, her high, round cheekbones and full mouth radiated strength. She was beautiful, but fierce too.
Sonya was struck by the sense that this girl was entirely herself, and wouldn’t be changing for anyone.
“Why are you staring at me?” the girl said suddenly.
Oh god, I am. “I’m not!” Sonya said – her voice pitched too high, not at all convincing. “I just…”
Everyone, including Sam, was watching her now. Even the passengers across the aisle turned to look.
Sonya shook her head politely. “Sorry. I thought maybe I knew you from somewhere.” The excuse came out of nowhere, but it seemed to work.
“I’m Lookmhee,” the girl said. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“No,” Sonya agreed, “We definitely haven’t.”
She would remember.
“Coffee,” the girl – Lookmhee said. “Black.”
“What?”
“Coffee,” Lookmhee repeated flatly.
“Oh!” Sonya reached for a canned coffee and handed it, and a cup, to Lookmhee.
“Thank you,” Lookmhee said, somewhat grudgingly. “You must be new,” she said, waving a hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll get better.”
Sonya blinked, actually shocked.
Sam leaned in. “She is new,” Sam said, “but she’s got a lot of potential. One of our best hires.”
“Oh really,” the girl said, grimacing. “Well good luck then.” Lookmhee turned away, and Sonya couldn’t believe she actually felt a pang of disappointment at the loss of those eyes.
She bit her lip, desire warring against outrage.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sam whispered. She shrugged as if to say, I told you. It happens.
All the rest of the short flight, Sonya seethed. You must be new. What did she know? She was just a random passenger!
Over and over, she thought about marching down the aisle and asking that ridiculous girl what gave her the right to insult a total stranger. And worse, a total stranger who was very good at her job. Even though she hadn’t been doing it long, she was learning. She was trying!
Only the thought of calling her mom to tell her she’d already lost her brand-new job kept Sonya sulking in the back of the plane while they closed the distance to Phuket and prepared for landing.
The plane touched down, and Sonya reluctantly went to the front to wave goodbye to everyone. She smiled as warmly as she could, though all she could focus on was Lookmhee’s grumpy, beautiful face moving toward her down the aisle. She tried not to look. She really did.
It was Lookmhee who stopped in front of Sonya. Lookmhee who reached out and touched Sonya’s arm. Lookmhee whose eyes demanded her attention. Lookmhee who said, haltingly, “I’m sorry for what I said before. You’re doing a really good job. Please forgive me.”
And Lookmhee who reached out to Sonya’s nametag, drew a long, slender finger across the printed letters of her name, and said, “Sonya.” Her beautiful lips curled into a smile, and it was like sunrise.
Then Lookmhee shouldered her backpack, stepped off the plane and was gone.
Sonya stood there for a long time.
Alone in her hotel room that night, Sonya replayed that moment over and over. What an annoying girl, she thought.
But it wasn’t annoyance that blossomed at the center of her chest – and began to grow. It was something else.