The plane continued its steep descent, its altitude dropping alarmingly fast. Inside the cabin, chaos reigned. Despite the captain and flight attendants' reassurances, panic had taken hold. Screams and cries echoed through the confined space, and some passengers sobbed for their mothers.
But in the skies thousands of meters above the ground, no amount of screaming or pleading could change their fate.
Death was closer than ever.
Matthew had faced death once before, back when a random accident nearly claimed his life. That time, it was over in an instant—he didn't even have time to feel fear.
This time, however, he was fully aware, forced to endure the excruciating seconds as the plane plummeted. He imagined the horrifying sight of people around him being torn apart upon impact.
Barely two minutes had passed since the second engine failed, yet the cabin had already devolved into pandemonium. By comparison, Matthew and Margot Robbie's little corner seemed eerily calm, almost as if they existed in a separate world.
Matthew didn't want to die, but he knew that no amount of crying, screaming, or praying would change their current predicament.
God wasn't coming.
"Do you think we'll meet God?" Margot asked, her voice low and reflective.
"You might," Matthew replied evenly. "I'm an atheist, and with all the crap I've done, I'm pretty sure I'm heading to hell."
Margot, influenced by Matthew's composure, began to regain her own. "I can't believe I just started to become famous, and now I might die. That's a pretty steep price to pay for success."
Matthew nodded. "Regrets? Resentment?"
"Of course. How could I not?" Margot turned to him. "Don't you have regrets?"
Facing what seemed like imminent death, Matthew saw no reason to hide his thoughts. "I regret not spending all my billions and not having an heir."
Margot couldn't help but chuckle at his bluntness. "Is being rich really that great?"
"It's better than you can imagine," Matthew said seriously. "In this world of material abundance, poverty limits your imagination and kills your options."
His response was brutally honest and starkly realistic.
Margot didn't sugarcoat her feelings either. "Well, you won't need to worry about that anymore." Then, curious, she asked, "Matthew, if you had to give up a lot for one chance at survival, would you?"
Matthew didn't answer right away. Instead, he countered, "Would you?"
"Absolutely," Margot said without hesitation. "I'd trade everything I have for another chance to live."
Survival was paramount.
Despite his calm demeanor, Matthew shared her sentiment. "Same here."
He couldn't bear the thought of all his hard-earned achievements vanishing into thin air. Margot's earlier remark about potential scandals after his death wasn't far-fetched.
The plane suddenly shuddered violently, the angle of its descent steepening.
It was clear that the brief glide had reached its limit. With decreasing speed, the aircraft was on the verge of losing all lift and entering a deadly freefall.
In this moment of life and death, Margot, like Matthew, ignored the chaos around them. They found solace in each other's company, as if savoring the calm before the inevitable impact.
Margot asked quietly, "Would you even change your wild lifestyle to survive?"
Matthew fell silent, the question hitting him harder than expected. Under normal circumstances, he would have deflected with humor or charm. But now, facing the possibility of death, there was no room for pretense.
His long-held principles seemed trivial in the face of mortality.
"Yes," he admitted after a pause. "I would. If it meant I could live, I'd change."
He turned to Margot with a faint smile. "I never thought I'd die with you."
"Me neither," Margot replied, managing a small smile of her own.
The plane's shuddering intensified, the metal groaning ominously as if on the brink of tearing apart.
For all his outward calm, Matthew couldn't stop his mind from racing. Looking out the window, he saw the ground coming into sharper focus. What had once appeared as tiny dots now loomed large.
Matthew closed his eyes, imagining the deafening roar of their descent. He felt like a bomb hurtling toward the earth.
Inside, his primal fear screamed, I don't want to die! Not like this!
But outwardly, he maintained his stoic façade—the image of an unshakable man, even in the face of death.
Margot felt the plane's vibrations growing stronger. She could sense they were nearing the final moments. Her eyes remained fixed on Matthew, drawing strength from his unyielding composure.
"If we survive this," Matthew said suddenly, meeting her gaze, "let's be together."
Margot blinked, caught off guard, before understanding his meaning. She cast aside her usual defenses and nodded. "If we make it, then yes, we'll be together."
It seemed absurd, but in these final moments, they made an unspoken pact.
Matthew tightened his grip on Margot's hand, and she adjusted her hold until their fingers intertwined completely.
The plane jolted again, and the captain's voice came over the intercom. Matthew and Margot exchanged a look but said nothing. They leaned back in their seats, silently awaiting whatever fate had in store.
Hand in hand, they faced death together.
In moments like this, emotions ran raw and deep. Despite their outward calm, both were grappling with a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings.
Margot glanced out the window. The ground was rushing up to meet them, its details growing sharper with every passing second.
"Matthew!" she gripped his hand tightly. "I think… I think I'm falling for you."
Matthew smiled at her. "Me too."
In these life-or-death moments, all pretense fell away. Their thoughts and feelings were stripped to their essence, raw and genuine.
The intercom crackled again, prompting both to don their oxygen masks. Unable to speak, they stared at each other, committing every detail of the other's face to memory.
Their relationship, cemented in crisis, might prove the shortest in history.
For reasons he couldn't explain, holding Margot's hand reminded Matthew of a long-forgotten feeling—the sensation of being in love.
He smiled, despite everything.
So this is how it ends, he thought. The playboy and the wild girl, going out together.
The cabin fell eerily silent as passengers donned their masks. The cries and screams that had filled the air moments ago were replaced by an oppressive quiet.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Matthew recalled a saying: Death always comes with silence.
He watched as Margot let go of his hand briefly to form a heart shape with her fingers over her chest. Unable to speak, she conveyed her feelings through the gesture.
Matthew mirrored the gesture, forming a heart with his own hands before grasping hers once again.
Despite his overwhelming desire to live, he resigned himself to whatever lay ahead.
Then, a faint sound reached his ears. He tilted his head, wondering if it was just the pressure in his ears playing tricks on him.
Margot also seemed to notice something, her eyes widening as she strained to listen.
Matthew focused intently and realized it wasn't his imagination.
It was a rumble.
He turned toward the window, his gaze locking onto the engine that had first failed.
It was roaring back to life.
The engine had restarted.
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