all the things we never said ~ 𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐇𝐮𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

My eyes pop open, and there is a minute of haze before I realize where I am. The seat is sticky because of my sweat, my blanket is tangled around my legs, and people around me are slowly taking turns opening their roll up curtains.

I close my eyes again, letting a slow grunt escape my lips as I stretch and lean as far back as I can. Never have I slept so soundly on a flight before. It must be the fact that I'm in business class, but then again, I've flown in this particular category before without being able to fall asleep.

It's a twelve hour flight from London to New Orleans, and I would've regretted it if it wasn't for the nice amount of sleep I got.

I tap the screen lodged in the back of the seat in front of me. It doesn't start up immediately, and I tap it with so much frustration that the man sitting in front of me grunts.

"Sorry," I mutter under my breath. I press again, longer this time, and it lights up.

The sudden burst of blue light makes me flinch, and my fingers drag themselves along the screen trying to turn the brightness down while I barely see anything for a second. When my eyes finally get used to the brightness I find the airplane button, and press it.

Great, we're almost there.

I sigh once again, plugging the crappy earplugs into the bottom of the screen, pressing the buds into my ears. I should at least watch a movie before we land; flying without watching a movie usually means bad luck in my book.

I select a movie, casually enjoying the scene where the woman kills off her husband. I chuckle as I begin packing my stuff, messily throwing everything into my backpack. I'll sort it out at the hotel. Maybe I can-

"GOODMORNING EVERYONE, THIS IS YOUR PILOT SPEA-"

I claw at the earbuds, yanking them out of my ears. My heart is lodged in my throat, and I can hear the voice continuing over the speakers in the plane. Why do they make the voice so obnoxiously loud when you're wearing earbuds? I might as well go deaf!

I force a smile to make myself feel a bit better when the pilot makes a time zone joke, juggling with the entire 'good morning' and 'good evening' in his sentence. Nobody finds it funny, yet people all take their time to clap when he finishes the message off with "thank you for flying with us!"

I clap twice, immediately hurrying and stuffing my blanket in my bag. I can still hear his voice ringing in my head, and I massage my temples. I need to concentrate and keep busy, otherwise I might think too much about this acting gig I agreed to and spiral into a panic attack.

"Would you like some coffee?" A voice asks.

I spin around, looking directly into the eyes of a very British steward offering me a jug. I smell it, and it smells like a good morning back home.

"Yes please," I say while zipping up my bag. "Not the whole jug, though."

He laughs. "I wasn't planning on giving you the entire thing. Sugar?"

I nod, a smile plastered onto my face. I genuinely thought he was about to offer me the jug for a minute. It must be the jetlag catching up to me.

"Going on vacation?" The steward asks while he pours me a cup.

"You could say so," I say. "Eight weeks of New Orleans."

He hands me the cup. "I've been there before, it's very pretty. You should check out the pizza places, the pizza is great."

"I will!" I smile as he walks away, and I take a sip of my coffee. Why are they handing me coffee while we are landing anyway? Hell, the Steward himself might be flipped over into the air if they start rotating the plane. It's good coffee, though. I'm not complaining.

I check my seat to see if I left anything behind before opening my Ipad and selecting the document my manager sent me.