Jeremy finally put the controller down.
"I won."
Gage looked at his own screen for a long second.
"...No."
"You lost."
"I refuse."
"You don't get to refuse."
"I absolutely do."
Jeremy stretched his arms above his head until his shoulders gave a satisfying pop.
"You're just saying that because your pride's hurt."
"My pride's fine."
"Your face says otherwise."
"My face always looks like this."
"It really does."
Gage stared at him.
"...Don't make me laugh."
"You already are."
A pillow landed squarely against Jeremy's shoulder. He looked down at it then back at Gage.
"...Really?"
"I had to do something."
Jeremy picked it up.
"You know..."
Gage sighed.
"Don't."
"...This pillow has done nothing to deserve being involved."
"You were about to throw it."
"I was considering it."
"You had the arm back already."
Jeremy looked at his own arm.
"...That's fair."
Instead of throwing it, he tucked the pillow behind his head and leaned back.
"I'll let you keep your dignity."
"I don't need your permission."
"You kind of do."
"You talk too much."
"So I've been told."
Within minutes, Jeremy's eyes were closed. The controller slipped onto his lap. No one bothered waking him.
Ashe reached into the seat pocket beside him and pulled out a pale blue notebook no bigger than his hand. The cover had faded years ago. A thin elastic band held it shut.
Dain noticed.
"...You're still carrying that?"
Ashe nodded.
"It doesn't weigh much."
"What's today's entry?"
"I haven't written one yet."
"You write every day."
"I miss days sometimes."
"You hate missing days."
"I know."
He clicked his pen once. The sound was soft enough that it disappeared beneath the steady hum of the engines.
"What do you even write?" Dain asked.
Ashe thought about it.
"Things I'll forget."
"You don't forget anything."
"I forget more than people think. I write them down so that I don't"
He opened to a page somewhere near the middle. Not the beginning but never the beginning.
Dain leaned over slightly.
"What does that one say?"
Ashe read without changing his expression.
"Jaylen forgets where he leaves his phone. Almost every day."
Across the cabin, Jaylen looked up.
"...I don't forget."
Gage snickers.
"Then your phone doesn't like you?"
A quiet laugh drifted through the cabin.
Ashe turned another page.
"Jeremy says 'five minutes' when he means twenty."
Jeremy answered without opening his eyes.
"I mean it every time."
"No," Gage said.
"You believe it every time."
"...That's different."
"It isn't."
Another page.
"Dain never finishes his coffee while it's hot."
Dain frowned.
"...Do I?"
"You forgot yours."
Dain looked toward the cup beside his seat. It was cold.
"...Oh."
"I'll prove my point."
He took a sip anyway. His face immediately regretted it.
Gage snorted.
"Told you."
"I didn't ask."
"You didn't have to."
Ashe smiled to himself before closing the notebook.
"What about Romeo?" Jaylen asked.
Ashe looked across the aisle.
Romeo was looking out the window. He didn't turn around. Ashe answered anyway.
"Romeo always checks if everyone's here before sitting down."
Romeo gave a small nod.
"As long as it's true."
"It usually is."
Their manager finally closed his tablet. The quiet tap drew a few eyes toward him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose for a second before looking around the cabin.
"No one's hungry?"
Gage raised one finger.
"I was born hungry."
"I'll ask again."
A beat passed.
"No one's hungry?"
"...Less hungry."
"That's what I thought."
He stood, straightened the cuffs of his shirt, then looked toward Romeo.
"When you wake everyone before landing..."
Romeo looked over.
"...Give them thirty minutes."
Romeo nodded.
"Okay."
"..And don't let Jeremy sleep through it."
Without opening his eyes, Jeremy answered,
"I heard that."
"I know."
"I'm awake."
"No, you're talking."
"...Good point."
The manager's mouth almost curved into a smile.
"I'll get coffee."
As he disappeared toward the galley, Jaylen leaned closer to Romeo.
"...He's definitely getting two cups."
"Probably."
"One for himself."
"Mhm."
"And one because he knows he'll need another."
Romeo looked toward the front of the cabin.
"...Definitely."
The engines continued their steady rhythm.
Nobody spoke for a while after that. Not because there was nothing left to say. They had long since learned that silence wasn't something to fill.
Outside, dawn was beginning to gather beyond the clouds. Inside, somewhere between sleep and morning, seven lives drifted quietly toward a country that still thought it knew who they were.