all that glitters » david dobrik au

twenty one

*the song just made me think of this chapter! i listened while writing sooo*

to be drunk and in love in new york city
midnight into morning coffee
burning through the hours talking

"Mona, you make me laugh," David grinned as he looked down at my outfit for the airplane.

"What? I woke up late!" I defended myself, glancing down at my flannel pajama pants, my bright blue oversized, stained camp counselor t-shirt from Camp Watalahooga, and the Balenciaga jacket I had fashionably placed on top. Paired with my fuzzy Christmas socks and Nike slides, I was looking like nothing less than a hot mess. "Plus I've done tons of research. You're supposed to be comfortable on a plane, duh! How else are you supposed to sleep?"

"The jacket is a nice touch," he couldn't stifle his laugh, even when I glared up at him. He even had the nerve to pull out his phone and snap a few pictures of me, despite my annoyed look and trying to cover my face. "I'm sorry. You look so fucking funny, Mona. You can make fun of me."

"I don't need to," I replied snarkily. "Your shitty haircut does all the work for me."

"Good one," David playfully rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame his messy locks, but somehow it only ended up worse. "Let's go. If you annoy me anymore, I'd be tempted to leave you in Chicago."

"Like you could even last the week without me," I scoffed, taking a few confident strides ahead of him before I realized I'd never been in an airport before and I had no clue what to do. David did all of the bag checking and stuff like that, and then instructed me to follow him to an underpopulated part of the airport, which seemed to gain quality the further down we went. The floors were shinier and the paintings on the walls seemed... more artistic. More expensive. "Where are we going?"

"To where we get on the plane," David shrugged like it was obvious.

"Weren't the gates, like, back there, though?" I gestured to the area we were in before we entered this area of the airport. After my intense airport research for my first time flying, I thought I knew pretty much everything anyone would need to know about Chicago O'Hare... ever. I was positive David was going the wrong direction, but I knew he had flown before, so I let him take the wheel anyway.

We ended up at a little desk where the receptionist recognized him. After a few minutes of standing around (with David on his phone, completely ignoring me), a man in a suit called us out and led us to a door. After a long hallway, and a few more doors, we ended up outside... on the runway. I looked to David in complete confusion. "What is going on?"

David's face was still buried in his phone still, and he didn't even look up as he wordlessly pointed towards a small, but not tiny plane. I squinted. "That's for us?"

"You ask so many questions," David rolled his eyes, but wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me towards the plane anyways. He let me ascend the steps first, and inside I saw only a few seats, a large bathroom, and the flight attendants' area. Needless to say, I was highly confused.

"Are we the only ones coming on this plane?"

"Mona Greene," David smirked triumphantly. "Welcome to your first private jet."

It was fun, I had to say. I was poor, and it was exhilarating to do something so "once in a lifetime" for me. I hated that David could provide some type of happiness that I couldn't give myself... but I'd think about that next weekend. This weekend, I was going to have fun.

We watched a movie on the plane (Bridesmaids, which David "hated" (AKA secretly liked but was too pussy to say it)). Only a few minutes into the movie, I was getting tired of craning my neck to see it in David's area. I almost just turned on my own movie in front of me, but David patted his lap, signaling for me to join him in his chair.