Misunderstandings

Disconnecting my headphones from my phone, I put On My Own by Darci to play for us, just to take our mind out of the chaos in front of us. "You will be with us until January 7th," I told them. "I'm not the most extroverted near them," sigh. "They are intimidated by me, and have been walking on eggs around me since I saw my dad and aunt Kamila, Lia's mom dying in front of me when I was 11. It all got weird with them."

"How," Keith swallowed, "how did they die?"

"Accident. A truck came and ran them over, they flew out of the car dead, right in front of me, minutes after I refused to go with them. It was a nightmare," I mumbled, eyes back to closed. "Everyone began to treat me as if I would break at the mention of it, then came the fake kindness, my fucked up mom marrying his sister little after he died, everyone acting as if it was normal, and to make it worse, my mom's family never even came around for me. Never. Too wrapped up in their little British world."

"You never met anyone of them, Zee?" Dragan asked softly.

"No, lil dragon. Never, but neither do I want it. When I most needed help and people with me, where were they? Not a word. Her family is huge but I don't know any of them," I scoffed. "Now it seems like her youngest brother decided to pop around Warsaw to stay, out of fuck nowhere, as if he was welcomed, when he isn't," I hissed angered. "What? He wants to play uncle now? After 17 bloody years? No. No. That ain't happening. If he wants to meet his sister's favorite child, he can be part of lil bunny's life, but it's too late for me. Even if not by blood, the only uncle I have is Krys."

"But he's a friend, sweetheart," uncle tried.

"He's your friend, not mine. He's nothing to me. I never met him and neither do I want to, bit since I'll have no other choice now that we are going to have him in the villa, I won't make any effort to make King feel comfortable or welcomed. I couldn't care less," I snapped.

"King?" Dragan giggled. "His name is King?"

A nod, "Yes. No wonder mom says he has an extraterrestrial ego. And believe me, that coming from her, who is a narcissistic egocentric bitch to say the least, is something to be scared of. Uncle Krys befriended him when he went to London with my parents, since they went there yearly but never with me, and he likes him. But again, I don't care. He's nothing," clenching my jaw, I inhaled sharply. "It's too late to play family with that 30-year-old stranger."

"Okay, let's talk about something else," Elena chuckled anxiously.

"Who is your boyfriend, Zee?" Dragan asked, frowning annoyed.

"Yeah," Keith turned his full attention to me, "who is the guy?"

I rolled my eyes, feeling my cheeks blush, "He's everything. His name is Rafał, he's born in London, his paternal family is Polish, while his maternal family is part British and part Spanish. Perfect tanned skin, wavy ebony black hair with some streak falling sensually over his forehead, siren ocean blue eyes, long lashes, dark full straight eyebrows, full heart-shaped lips, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, thin high-bridge snub nose, deep dimples at both cheeks, perfect white teeth, small pretty ears with a serpent ruby earring adorning the left one," I told them dreamy.

Ugh, I miss my man.

"Slander neck, sharp collarbones, wide and broad shoulders, his entire upper and lower body sculpted in muscles. His legs longer than my life, given how he's 2.12 meters tall, which is about 7 feet. Prodigy genius. At 25 he's already accomplished financially and academically because he graduated from Oxford at 18, and he's rich, so, he ain't gonna be interested in my money. He also hasn't been in Poland long, he had just arrived two weeks before we met," smiling, I felt my face burn.

"Is he really real?" Elena gasped, eyes widened.

I chuckled, "Right? My reaction exactly," sigh. "He wants a serious relationship, wants to get married and have kids, just like me. October 25th, he's a Scorpio, and he is tattooed. Full of tattoos, all with meanings. He also likes pretty much everything I do, and he's bossy like me. I love it, he is able to handle me like nobody ever could," I pressed my hands over Dragan ears, "and he is so bloody good in bed," I whispered and released his ears.

"And his voice?" Elena leaned closer, invested.

"It's as deep as the bloody ocean," I cried. "Ugh, he's everything."

Dragan glared at Keith and grinned, "Ha, I'm more her type than you are," he mocked him, tongue out.

"Ugh, I feel depressed again," Keith gasped. "Do you really have single cousins around our age?" He asked me.

"I do," I chuckled. "And lil cousins too," I winked at Dragan.

"Alright, that sounds good, but my crush is still you!" He pouted.

I petted his hair, "Cute."

"I got her scarf," he got back to bickering Keith.

Cecylia cursed, phone in hand, "Shit, my phone died."

"Mine too," uncle sighed, hugging her.

"I only have 16% of battery," Elena said, looking at hers.

"I got 22%," Keith looked his up.

"Mine is also dead," Dragan waved his.

He already has a phone? Damn. "Mine is 7%," I sighed. "It'll die quickly since I'm using Spotify. But I'm not going to stop using, I need music," then I took another long sip of the vodka and handed it to Keith again, "and vodka. And I left my charger on my luggage," I chuckled. "The one in the plane that we were supposed to take first."

"Fuck, I did that too," Lia groaned.

"Me too," uncle laughed. "But at least we won't need to deal with Eleonora going crazy and calling us non-stop."

"Mine is Samsung, the charger won't help you," Keith pointed.

"Ours are Motorola, it won't help either, sorry," Elena groaned.

"It's fine. It's the downside of iPhone, the damn battery," uncle brushed it off. "Let's pray it won't take that long for us to go to Warsaw."

"Ugh," Keith cried, "I don't feel like getting on a plane."

"We can go by train," I suggested. "I also don't feel like getting on a plane right now. The pilot said it's 3h from here to Paris. We can get there, rest for the night for today, and then tomorrow, after breakfast, we can head down to Warsaw. I've saw it once, it's around 18h and 30 minutes from here to there. We'll be there on the 22nd. My family's villa is 5 hours and 30 minutes from Warsaw by car. We'll be there by the night of the 22nd."

"Ugh," Cecylia cried. "I'm sorry, Honeyboom. If we had scheduled the flight to come back yesterday of the day after, we would there for your birthday. We always spend them in the villa, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really. If that had happened, I wouldn't have met Elena and neither would I have saved depressed boy here, and they all could have died in the plane today. Everything happens for a reason, Jam-Jam, and let's focus on the good part. We are all alive. As soon as we get to Paris, we rest, check in the hospital just to make sure we are alright. Our things will be all waiting for us in the airport, and I bet we won't be the only ones choosing to go by train, instead of plane, after today!"

"We are sorry either way, sweetheart," uncle pressed his lips.

"Come on, it's okay," I tried to smooth it out. "We now have the most awesome experience to pass down to our kids and grand kids. Damn it, we survived an airplane wrack and we high jacked from it in a storm, guys. That's fucking terrifying, for sure, but awesome."

They all gasped at my words.

"Have you seen a psychiatrist, Merida?" He mocked.

"Have you?" I snapped. "It wasn't me who was wanting the plane to fall and for everyone to die together, was it?"

He blushed, "Ugh, you already beat me up because of that."

"And I feel like it wasn't enough," I chuckled.

۞ ۞ ۞

They took 3 hours to get us, and when they came, they came all in a horde of ambulances and police cars and airport staff. It took them 4 hours to get us to Paris, and everyone refused to go on a airplane, everyone opted for train after I first told them we were going to use that instead.

Opposite to what we first thought, it seems like 48 people were still in the plane when it fell, and they are working on getting to know who were they, and trying to find the bodies. There supposed to have 550 passengers, 8 flight attendants, plus the pilot and co-pilot, but when they rescued us, the whole staff was present, but there were only 502 of us.

It made it all ten times worse. With deaths in the picture, it all got chaotic and it made us all survivors for real. The idea that it could have been any of us, had we not high-jacked fast enough as we did, brought the shivers back to my spine. Not to mention that it was apparently not just a normal thunderstorm, but a thunderstorm with rain, wind, and heavy hail, which was the real reason behind the crashing of the aircraft.

Apparently it caused a big damage on the two wings, the horizontal stabilizers, the rear fuselage, and on the central fuselage. It all go worse because the damage caused a leakage of the fuel, which made it even more dangerous. And by what I overheard, we only survived because the pilot acted when she did, had she waited more to tell us to high-jack, it wouldn't be just 48 dead but 560 with her and the staff.

Given the magnitude of the accident, plus the fact that it was in a International Boing Airplane that came from Switzerland, with scheduled stops for Netherlands and Austria, final destination to Poland, but fell on France, it became an international accident that began to be reported on worldwide news channels to the whole world.

To make it even worse, it had 150 passengers that were supposed to have gone on another international flight from Switzerland, scheduled to stop in Germany, also with final destination to Poland. Think it can't be worse than it already is? Only 8 of the people who died were from flight LEHL666 from the beginning, the 40, who are still unknown because of the last minute change, were all from our flight. All from economical.

Only 110 out of the 150 of us survived.

All because we change planes exactly not to take the risk of going through our plane crashing. It's insane. Insanely traumatizing.

The 110 of us escaped death by aircraft crash twice in one day.

Hah, I don't think I'll ever be okay with going on a plane again. In my life. Ever. If I went through this in a Boing like this, which is said to be the most secured transport in the world, do you really think I'll ever be able to get on a private jet? That is even more easier to crash?

Bloody hell no!

As they got involved, the government of France got instantly into the situation, and protecting all of us passengers, plus to make them look good on the picture because they are French, blah, blah, blah, they booked a stay in five of the best and most luxurious hotels of Paris for us.

All the 60 passengers from business class went to Hotel Ritz Paris.

The 20 passengers from premium economic class and all of the 10 members of the flight staff went to Four Seasons Hotel George V Paris.

Last, the remaining 422 were divided on the other three, since it's a lot of people and they were all kind of packed for winter, so 120 stayed on The Peninsula Paris with 65 of them being the surviving economical passengers from our initial flight, 152 stayed on Mandarin Oriental Paris, and the remaining 150 stayed on Le Meurice.

They didn't check us in with our ID or anything, the federal guard straight up brought us all there and prohibited any kind of recording of us, then they just got us in there, and they also paid it all for us, since it was just one stay for person, and some of us got in a room together.