Work Text:
Jesse nervously felt the seat belt. It wasn’t that he was afraid of flying, more afraid of air hostesses. His young looks had always landed him in trouble;
‘Quiet!’ shouted the air hostess. Jesse watched quietly as she scolded some of his school friends for talking, and then did an about turn in search of teachers. He had only been on an airplane a few times, and only when he had been on school trips, and now at 17, it felt that some if not all adults took one look at a group of young people and assumed trouble. The ironic thing was that the chatty woman in front of him as he had boarded the plane had been recognised as a trouble maker; and the male air hostess had taken note of her seat number. Despite this it .was him and his friends who were treated like criminals. He slowly sank into his seat. He had never liked people shouting, it had always brought up unhappy memories; and right now as his friends acted up to spite the woman with an eagle like stare, he knew it wouldn’t end well. And when the male air hostess asked across the speakers that children and infants had to be strapped in, he could feel her stare burn into his head. He abruptly turned to face her when he realised she was tugging at the seatbelts of his friends and no-one else -
And now 7 years later it was no different;
‘are you wearing your belt?’, ‘Where are your parents?’
It was the same old routine and at 24 he was sick of it. Sighing he resigned himself to the fact that once again he was in for an interesting flight.