If I had become a celebrity, would I have flown in first class all the time?

That was my pressing concern as I imprinted my shape into the plush seat on the return flight out of Seoul. Not having hit it big in the world of Latin American entertainment was probably a blessing in disguise. Knowing me, it would have gone to my head quick and I would have become one of those divas who threw their champagne glasses at the flight attendants' faces.

Meanwhile, when one of the airline employees walked by my aisle offering precisely that bubbly drink, I nearly wept as I thanked him profusely for offering.

While waiting at the airport, I gave Dawn a quick call to outline my new itinerary. As soon as she heard about my seat upgrade, she said, "Girl, who did you flash to get a perk like that?"

"If I'd flashed anyone I'd have got a ticket straight to jail," I said, chuckling even as a nearby businessman gave me an alarmed look. "Nah, I just acted out a real bitch. They must have thought I was rich."

"So long as it doesn't come with a bigger tab, enjoy it."

I had already checked and nope, it really was a freebie. All the more reason to sip some bubbly and relax.

I leaned back, propped up my feet on the footrest and closed my eyes, ready to pretend I was living the life I always wanted—surrounded by luxury and being tended to by someone else. Until somebody cleared their throat. I squeezed my eyes tighter, but once the sound came again, I realized it was really meant for me.

A Korean guy stood beside me, all dressed in black like some sort of grim reaper. A cap obscured his eyes even for my lower vantage, and the rest of his face was hidden by a cloth mask. With his plane ticket, he pointed at the seat beside me, by the window.

Normally, if this happened in economy class I'd have to perform acts of contortionist magic to extricate myself from my seat without bothering anyone. This time I enjoyed the amplitude only people with copious amounts of zeros in their bank accounts could afford. I gave the guy a wide berth as he walked past me and settled himself. Meanwhile, I sipped champagne.

"First class, huh? Pretty amazing," I said once I'd taken my seat again.

He cut a sharp glance but said nothing, which I took to mean I was either talking too much for someone who regularly flew in first, or he wasn't comfortable with English. In any case, I'd always found chatty seat mates annoying, so I focused on my drink until it was gone.

"Excuse me," I said to the flight attendant, pointing at my empty cup. "Could I have a refill?"

"We're almost ready to depart but I will be glad to fill your glass once we're in the air."

"Fantastic, thanks." The extra pep in my voice made my seat mate turn away from me.

Que sifrino...

I crossed myself as the plane took off and my heart leapt from the vertigo as much as for excitement at finally returning home, to where my bed was. And my mom.

And my boss, ugh.

After a couple more glasses of alcohol, I dozed off until I started drooling. A bump on the road woke me up, which was weird because there were no bumps in the air. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked around.

The cabin was dark, mostly illuminated by a few screens as people watched movies or read something from their electronic devices. My neighbor had finally removed his cap and replaced it by a humongous headset. He fiddled around with a MacBook but the privacy screen prevented me from seeing what he was doing.

The bump happened again. If we'd been riding a car, the drop that followed would've been caused by driving off a cliff. Someone yelped and I clawed at the arm rests.

When the light came on for fastening our seatbelts, I said, "No shit."

A snort was the only response.

A flight attendant announced something in Korean that was then translated in English, and all that got through my head were the words lightning storm and turbulence. Which almost made me repeat myself aloud, but as the shakes grew worse I figured it was best I use my breath for praying.

My breathing and pulse calmed down as the flight evened out and for a few minutes, all was peace. I'd even settled back into sleep when a loud sound snapped me awake.

Suddenly, I felt as though I were dropping in mid air but my stomach were staying up in the clouds. I screamed. So did everyone else. The oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling and that was when I knew shit was going down. Literally.

Dawn had been right, of course there had to be a fucking catch.

By this point, everyone was in panic mode. Fumbling with the mask for precious seconds made me wish I'd paid more attention to the safety briefing. When I finally got it in place, I launched into the rosary.

My neighbor's laptop flew away from his hands with more autonomy than the actual plane. I barely managed to avoid being nicked in the head by it. I wanted to call Mom and tell her I loved her but all I could do was hyperventilate.

A weird light caught my attention to the right. When I turned, I found that my seat mate had lifted the window blind and the engine was on fire.

For the first time, he looked at me. Really looked at me. His eyes were as wide as they could be and with the emergency lights coming on, I could see myself reflected in them.

Even over the cacophony of chaos around us and the oxygen mask on his face, I heard him clear as day as he said, "We're going to fucking die!"

I wailed.

He screamed.

We grabbed onto each other as though we weren't strangers because fuck it, if we were gonna kick the bucket we wouldn't do it alone.

I wrapped my arms around a complete stranger and felt comfort in the fact he returned the favor. His heart beat against my cheek like a tambora de Barlovento. As the pitching sensation increased I squeezed my arms around his torso like a vise.

"Attention, please," a voice said. "We will perform an emergency landing at Narita International Airport. Please remain seated at all times and wait for further instructions."

"Emergency landing my ass!" my up close neighbor shouted, followed by a string of words in a language I didn't understand.

Meanwhile, I screamed my third mystery of the rosary. He must have caught on because he started murmuring along. Other people kept their terror-inducing screams on-going for as long as it took for the plane to stabilize.

Through the blur, my neighbor and I didn't let go of each other.

Only when the plane touched on the ground without bursting to pieces did our hold slacken. And by slacken I meant I melted on my seat and passed out.

I had never fainted in my life. Not when I was called up by the Miss Venezuela organization with the news I was getting a sash. Not even during the funeral we held for Dad with an empty casket symbolizing a life without him.

Having almost joined him at my tender thirty three years of life did it, though.

I was gone to the world for who knew how long. When I came to, the first thing I saw was my seat mate doing breathing exercises right above me. Because I was sprawled all over him.

I bolted back to my seat. Stench hit my nose, as if someone nearby puked all over the place. I checked my clothes and found it wasn't me. Other than sweaty, my seat mate's clothes were intact too. Unfortunately, that didn't help me feel less queasy.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice raspy after screaming so much. Opening my mouth was counterproductive in trying to keep the contents of my stomach inside. That was probably why he breathed in and out like someone about to go into labor.

"They said we'll change to a different airplane but we have to wait here in the meantime."

His voice was smooth as butter and deep like whiskey. Which, by the way, the latter was exactly what I needed.

I cleared my throat. "Do you think they'll give us booze if we ask?"

He stopped breathing for a second, blinking at me like I was speaking another tongue. Did I say that in Spanish or—

"Fuck, you're right. Why put up with this shit sober?" He unfastened his seatbelt and stood up. The words out of his mouth were definitely in another language.

A moment later, a flight attendant was beside us. Her hair had escaped her coiffure and remained around her face like a dark halo. She addressed him in the same language, which I finally recognized as the melodious lilt of Korean. When she returned, she offloaded a tray full of bottles and glasses from a cart and passed it to us, doing the same with other passengers.

In perfect English, my neighbor asked, "How shitfaced do you want to get?"

"Blackout drunk," I responded, firmly.

"That's the spirit." He pulled out the tray from his seat and set out to prepare a couple of drinks. The window blind was still open and as I leaned forward, I caught a couple of massive sprays putting out the fire on the airplane wing.

"Carajo," I whispered, shaking my head. "We almost died."

He poured beer on two glasses and a light liquid on two shot glasses, which he dropped onto the beer.

Offering one glass of the mix to me, he said, "But we didn't. Cheers to that."

My hand shook as I clinked my glass with his. "Cheers, I guess."

We chugged the drinks like they would be our last.

"I'm Cecilia but people call me Cee," I said, offering my shaky hand to him.

He glanced at it for a second but returned the gesture. "I'm Tae Yang."

"Tay Yang," I repeated and he shook his head.

"Let me make you another soju bomb to help you pronounce that, okay?"

My face heat up, not because of the screw up, but because it took me a moment to realize I'd been holding onto his hand for dear life.

SONG OF THE DAY: Linkin Park - Faint

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so i guess when i said there'd be no life and death stakes i lied a little?