“Fly With Me”

My favorite thing about flying has nothing to do with being in the air. Sure, I’ve always loved soaring above the sky. Looking out the window and seeing the world as it shrinks underneath you is powerful. And getting the chance to see new cities from that height is spectacular; I’ll never forget how Paris sparkles under the night sky. It’s sheer beauty.

But it’s not the immense power or the dazzling sights that gets me going. I love flying because your flight crew becomes your family. My real parents were Singaporean expats doing business in Canada. When I turned twelve, our grandma got sick. So, my mom and dad moved back, to help grandpa. I remained in Vancouver, with my aunt and uncle. They were great, but they weren’t real parents.

When I left them for my pilot’s training, I was on my own. The people I studied with were ok; we struggled through exams together, mourning the length of the program and our collective need to be in the sky. Even then, however, I didn’t feel like they were family.

Perhaps that was why I decided to wait in the airport today. I’d found myself a new family in my flight crew, and any chance I got to see them, I took. The flight attendants were really my best friends. We laughed together as often as we cried together. Months of stressful flights and crazy passengers helped us bond.

“Ming?”

I snap my head up, breaking from my thoughts. Keilani, one of those very important flight attendants, is standing in front of me. She looks tired, but it’s contrasting against her bright, cheerful smile. I’m amazed that she’s still standing after that last long-haul flight. Then again, I’m awake too.

“What’s up?” I ask, offering her a seat at my table.

She smiles, waving it away. “Thanks Ming, but I’m meeting Paul soon. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you?” I counter.

She laughs, her raucous guffaws echoing through the semi-empty airport. “I should, I should. But really, why are you still here? It’s getting late.”

I falter, staring past her at the arrivals gate.

“I have a friend arriving tonight,” I lie. Or maybe it’s just giving her half the truth; someone I know is coming back, but they don’t know I’m waiting for them.

Anyways, Keilani buys it totally.

“Oh, you’re such a good guy, Ming,” she coos. “Someday you’re going to make someone very happy.” Her eyes light up when she finishes. “Oh! There’s Paul!”

“Babe!” Paul, another flight attendant and Keilani’s boyfriend, instantly embraces her. “Thanks for waiting up for me.” He kisses her on the cheek, pressing her body into his massive frame. “Glad you have good company while you’re here,” he chuckles, finally looking at me. “We’re seeing you tomorrow, right Ming?”

I nod. Paul and Keilani are great friends of mine, but their affection gets a little annoying. Luckily for me, Keilani’s always been great at detecting how I’m feeling. She waves me good night and drags Paul away. Once they’re gone, my attention flickers back to the arrivals gate. Ian should be arriving soon.

Ian, the man who never left my dreams. He was my superior and mentor. For as long as I’ve known him, I’ve been madly in love with him. Somehow, everything about him felt right to me: he got along well with everyone and had a great sense of humor. Not to mention that he was an amazing pilot… and built like a god. I’ve never seen a man as handsome as him.

Of course, he has no idea I liked him. He’s blind to my hopeless crush.

An automated voice announces new arrivals. I whip my head up and spot Ian and his cabin crew exiting the gate. He looks tired, but is laughing. A flimsy smile crosses my face, as I wonder what it would be like to make Ian laugh like that. Right now, he’s laughing with Nancy, another one of our regular flight attendants. Nancy’s always had a flirtatious attitude toward him. And as long as she’s in the picture, I doubt Ian will ever really notice me.

*

Most people hate long-haul flights, which is completely fair. You have to spend weeks away from home and constantly adjust to new time zones. The fatigue kills me, but I’ve learned to find joy in the little things. Trying new foods has been my favorite hobby during long-haul trips. Our next trip, for example, takes us to a layover in Barcelona, known for its hole-in-the-wall tapas restaurants and fresh paella. I’ve always wanted to try cooking Spanish cuisine, so despite the exhaustion, it’s a great opportunity.

Technically, I’m still a long-haul trainee. When Ian and I fly together, he’s the one who talks to the passengers before the flight starts. I’m on hand in the cockpit, watching his every move and noting what works. Each time I hear him talk, I can’t help but drift off. He speaks with such authority and confidence. Panicked passengers are soothed by his reassurances that he’s flown many times before. He can calm down an angry mother just as quickly as he can hush a baby. They don’t teach you how to manage people when you’re getting your pilot’s license, so having people skills like Ian does is an advantage.

There are plenty of things they don’t teach you in school, which is funny when you consider how long pilot training is. My first program was a two year diploma in aviation. They taught navigation and how to deal with adverse weather conditions, but nothing about networking or calming vicious passengers. I came out of my pilot’s training thousands of dollars in debt and with no real world experience.