In a Split Second || BTS

Chapter 3

"Uh... five."

"Five? Five? You are going to be working a lot longer than five hours, baby. BigHit mentioned the group sometimes practices seven to ten hours a day."

I scoff. "The group is overworking themselves."

"They might need the work – you won't really know until you see them dance. Anyways, I guaranteed BigHit you would spend six hours a day, five days a week with the boys but I am sure they are expecting you will spend more. I tried to go easy on you since it's your first major job."

"I wouldn't call that going easy on me," I mumble.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You are mumbling, Cherisse. I get that you are tired, but–" She cuts off as a wave of turbulence passes over the plane and my stomach leaps into my throat, stifling my scream.

"What was that?" I gasp once the fluttering in my stomach ceases. The sick feeling, however, remains. "Is the plane crashing? Are we going to die?"

Tammy chuckles. "Calm down; don't be such a worrier. We are descending."

"You told me this was the worst part," I groan as my stomach begins to roll in discomfort.

"It is," she says with a delicate shrug of her shoulders. I clutch the armrests so hard I am surprised they don't break off.

"Why do you tell me these things?"

"For your safety."

"Uh... we are beginning our descent to Seoul. Winds have picked up to 24 mph so there may be a bit of, uh... turbulence. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of your flight."

"Turbulence," Tammy scoffs. "Yeah, right. He is just nodding off."

"Please stop, Tammy."

"Fine. Try not to have a panic attack, okay, baby? I need you to get to the hotel in prime condition."

I nod, my eyes fixed on the seat in front of me. The plane lurches downwards again, and Tammy clasps her hand over my mouth to stifle my shriek. My eyes well with tears as fear clouds all rationality and her fingers barely muffle my sob.

"Calmez-vous," she insists. "It is just a plane."

I shake my head violently, hating the feeling of my stomach rising and sinking every time the plane makes the slightest movement. I dislike anything that makes me feel as though I am not in control.

"Mon Dieu, why are you reacting like this? It is only a plane!" Tammy insists, prying my hand from the armrest.

"It is not," I sob. "I hate this. Je déteste ça."

"Excusez-moi but is everything all right back here?" a passing flight attendant asks. I remember another flight attendant called her Rachelle when she was offering food and drinks. Focusing on the facts helps me calm down a bit, so I try to remember other people's names and level my breathing.

"Oui, everything is perfectly all right. She is just a nervous flyer."

"Ma chére? You understand the flight will be over in a few moments, yes?"

I glance over at Rachelle. Her brown eyes are tinged with sympathy, but beyond that, there is real care and concern. I manage a small nod as a single tear trickles down my cheek.

"There is nothing to worry about, love. You are perfectly safe."

"Merci," I say quietly.