Juliet In Distress : F4 THAILAND

Two.

Jia's POV -

Chapter 2: Turbulence and Tumbles

As I settled into my seat on that flight, I couldn't help but notice the pretty boy across the aisle, engrossed in what seemed like a food magazine. I mean, who reads about noodles with such intensity? It was almost endearing, in a quirky sort of way.

As the plane soared through the sky, I couldn't shake the feeling that this journey was going to be anything but ordinary. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones or just plain old intuition, but I was bracing myself for an adventure.

Now, let me tell you about my pregnancy. It wasn't exactly the fairy tale scenario I'd envisioned. Adrian, my ex, had left me high and dry, and I was carrying his bundle of joy. So there I was, a neurosurgeon in my own right, juggling life's absurdities like a circus performer.

The seatbelt sign lit up, and the plane hit a patch of turbulence. I clutched onto the armrest with a death grip, feeling my stomach do somersaults like a gymnast on a sugar rush. My heart raced faster than a Formula 1 car, and I desperately needed a distraction.

In my panic, I attempted to reach for my handbag to fetch a stress-relief lollipop. Yes, I had stress-relief lollipops; don't judge, they worked wonders. But fate, or perhaps gravity, had other plans for me.

As the plane jolted, my handbag catapulted from the overhead compartment, and I instinctively lunged for it. But here's the kicker – my pregnant body wasn't exactly nimble, and I found myself losing balance in the most dramatic way possible.

With all the grace of a drunk flamingo, I toppled forward, arms flailing, and landed right in the lap of none other than pretty boy. It was like a comedy sketch from a cheesy sitcom. My stress-relief lollipops scattered like confetti, and my face must have turned fifty shades of red.

Pretty boy, for his part, looked about as shocked as a rabbit in the path of an oncoming lawnmower. His food magazine became a makeshift pillow for my unplanned landing. And there I was, a pregnant neurosurgeon, sprawled across his lap like I'd mistaken him for an airplane seat.

In the midst of the chaos, a snort of laughter escaped me. I couldn't help it; the situation was so ludicrous. I scrambled to sit up, apologizing profusely between giggles.

Pretty boy, recovering from the surprise, managed a sheepish grin. "Well, that's one way to break the ice."

And that, my friends, is how I, Jia Kingston, turned a routine flight into a slapstick comedy show. Who knew that turbulence and tumbles could be the start of something so delightfully chaotic?

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