CHAPTER 2

Chapter 2. Bad Flight

I entered the plane—still glaring at absolutely nothing. I was mad. So mad at dad, mom, and practically everyone. They just ruined my peaceful and enjoyable life. One day I was comfortably existing in the US, minding my own business, and the next thing I knew, I was being shipped off to the Philippines like some kind of parcel with an arranged fiancé waiting at the destination.

I've been thinking if it's still possible to go back and cancel this flight. Or maybe jump off the plane with a parachute, of course. I'm not planning to die yet. I still haven't attended enough concerts to leave this world.

But nevertheless, I am here. Sitting inside this giant flying metal tube for nine whole hours. Nine. Hours. I could've been at home listening to Sabrina Carpenter's Manchild while judging people online, but no. Life decided to become creative.

The journey wasn't what I expected either. I thought Business Class meant peace, silence, and expensive comfort. Apparently, it meant sitting near chaos with slightly better seats.

“Xiaoxiao! Where has that kid been?!” a woman suddenly rushed past my seat while looking around frantically.

A few seconds later, she stopped beside me.

“Have you seen my child, lady?” she asked. “This kind of tall?” she added, gesturing the height of her son.

I shook my head. To be honest, I wasn't paying attention to anything around me. My entire focus was dedicated to surviving this flight without losing my sanity.

The missing child eventually appeared somewhere, but that didn't solve my problem. If he wasn't disappearing, he was blasting music from some unknown device. The rest of the passengers looked perfectly unbothered by it, while I was already planning twenty different ways to file a complaint in my head.

So loud.

So annoying.

“Feeling annoyed?”

I heard a baritone voice from beside me.

Oh.

Right.

I have a seatmate.

I slowly turned my head and looked at him. Somehow, he looked perfectly relaxed despite the chaos happening around us.

“Define annoyed,” I answered sarcastically.

Before he could respond, I immediately shoved my AirPods into my ears and turned up my music. If conversation was optional, I was definitely opting out.

Thankfully, Taylor Swift and a random playlist saved my life. One song turned into another, then another, and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep.

When I woke up, the sky outside had already turned orange.

Great.

We're still far.

I probably slept for three hours. Maybe more. Maybe less. Honestly, I didn't care. At least nobody bothered me during my nap.

Well.

Another six hours to waste.

“Hi, good afternoon!”

I almost dropped my phone.

I turned and saw my seatmate smiling at me as if we had been best friends for years.

“Hello,” I replied.

“Dinner?” he asked while gesturing toward his food.

Unfortunately for me, the moment I looked at his tray, the smell of Korean noodles immediately attacked my senses. Sweet. Spicy. Tempting. Disrespectfully tempting.

For a second, I could swear the noodles were personally inviting me to eat them.

I looked away.

“No thank you. I'm not hungry.”

Biggest lie of the century.

“Oh? Because your face says otherwise.”

Then, as if my stomach had been waiting for the perfect dramatic timing, it growled.

Loudly.

Traitor.

The guy laughed.

“You're clearly hungry,” he said while reaching into his bag. “Here.”

A few seconds later, he handed me a cup of noodles.

Honestly?

I accepted it immediately.

Dignity couldn't feed me.

“Thank you,” I muttered while examining the noodles.

Then a sudden thought entered my head.

“Wait. Are we even allowed to eat this here?”

“Yeah,” he nodded seriously. “As long as nobody sees us.”

My eyes widened.

I immediately lowered the noodles and hid them like I had just committed a federal crime.

The man burst out laughing.

“I'm kidding.”

Oh really?

I stared at him.

He kept laughing.

For some reason, he seemed to find himself hilarious.

“Was that supposed to be funny?” I asked coldly.

His laughter slowly disappeared.

“Hey, it was a joke.”

“Well, it wasn't a good one.”

“Don't tell me you don't know food etiquette.”

“Why would I? Am I a lawyer studying every corner of the airport? In the first place, they should teach people how to behave normally.”

“Said the one who's annoyed at a little child.”

Argh.

This man.

If airplanes had windows that opened, I would've thrown him outside already.

“Name's Marco,” he said after a while.

“I wasn't asking.”

“Then allow me to introduce myself anyway.”

“Okay.”

After finishing the noodles—which, by the way, were amazing—I finally felt less murderous.

Marco looked at me again.

“You're from the US, I suppose?”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“You're really difficult to get to know.”

I smiled innocently.

Good.

“Anyway,” he continued, “why are you flying to the Philippines?”

That topic again.

I sighed dramatically.

“Let's just say some people need to be forced into life decisions they didn't ask for.”

“Oh?”

“My father sent me.”

“Vacation?”

“Unfortunately.”

He laughed.

I didn't.

“Well, technically, business,” I added. “And apparently, I'm a young independent spoiled brat being shipped away from her country.”

Marco looked like he was trying to process everything I said.

“How about you?” I asked.

“Vacation.”

“That's great.”

What was supposed to be another six hours of peaceful silence somehow turned into a conversation marathon.

We talked about random things. Food. Travel. Adulting problems. Places in the Philippines I had never visited but pretended to know. He even recommended some destinations while I mentally calculated how fast I could find my fiancé and destroy this engagement.

By the time the plane started descending, I almost forgot how annoyed I had been earlier.

Almost.

“See you then?” Marco asked while grabbing his bag. “Maybe we'll bump into each other again.”

“If fate allows it.”

He laughed.

Then the cabin announcement interrupted us.

“We have just landed at Ninoy Aquino International Airport. Philippine Airlines welcomes you to Manila…”

And just like that, I officially arrived in the country that was apparently supposed to change my life.