"Are you alright, baby?" Shannon asked, rubbing David's face lovingly. He fed into it, yearning for her touch.

"Yeah. I'm just kinda afraid of flying," he said as he helped Shannon into the small private airplane. Her stomach protruded gently. David smiled. Shannon was six months pregnant, and so far everything was going fine. Exceptional, actually, and David could hardly wait for the baby's arrival. He was young, but already ready to be a father--or so he thought.

Shannon sniffed at the musty interior of the plane. Empty wine bottles scattered across the crumb-laden floor, and David accidentally kicked one hard while hauling himself into the seat next to her. It hurt like a bitch, and he swore. Shannon never noticed; instead, she checked her watch. Only ten minutes until they took off! Shannon was excited, and when she smiled at him, he noted the perfect, ivory face, enhanced by wide, ocean-green eyes. Two thin blonde lines harrowed these eyes, and her dimples showed against two full, blood red lips. Her long blonde hair flowed like a sheet of sunlight, and he ran his hand through it. He loved blondes. And she was all blonde. He liked that. A lot.

"Y'all here?" a slurred voice called from outside the plane.

David leaned forward, and said, "No. We have to wait for two more. They should be coming any time now."

"Alright." The pilot leaned against the side of his plane, pulled two stale Marlaboros out of his pack, and puffed on them simultaneously. He'd been lucky today; usually, he only found a cigarette or two in the trash. But today he'd finally found a whole fucking pack! Today was going to be a good one, he knew. His bitch waited for him at home for the first time in three years, and she probably had some money he could spend. He was proud of himself. Life was good.

"Here you go, babe," Jon said, helping Renee lug her suitcase into the back of the plane. He pulled himself inside, and put his suitcase in the back, too. He couldn't imagine how much junk was in the back of the plane; it almost looked like it served as a small home to someone. There were several blankets, and pieces of random garbage. It smelled disgusting. Like rotted ass.

Jon leaned forward after Renee had climbed in next to him, and whispered to David, "This was the best plane we could find? I mean, it's--gross."

David turned, and Jon noticed he'd broken into a nervous sweat. Jon laughed at him. What a pussy David could be sometimes. Jesus. David ignored Jon's laughter, and said, wiping his forehead, "Yeah, unfortunately. Head, Fieldy, and Munky had to leave. They couldn't just wait for us to go to the Bahamas. Dammit--"

As Jon and David talked, Renee looked at her husband. As always, his sad smile--even as he laughed--triggered a wave of pity within her. His black Puma skirt and shirt, along with the knee-length socks was quite a fashion statement; it had been the cause of his torture ever since he was very small. Renee looked normal, with a pair of blue jeans and a black tanktop. David, used to Jon's drag-queen like tendencies, talked to him warmly. Renee thought him very masculine for excepting Jon, in all his oddness. As for herself, she liked Jon's style. It never ceased to bore her.

Glancing over at David, she noticed the tight muscle shirt that showed off his perfect physique; a nipple ring pressed against it. His wisps of short, dyed-blonde hair were a sharp contrast to the chocolate goatee that fell stiffly from his chin. Dark, perfectly-shaped eyebrows accented two almond-colored eyes, and his plush, pink lips gave him an almost child-like quality. A fresh tattoo of the Mad Hatter stained his arm. Renee saw it when he turned and asked her,

"Is it just me or are you scared shitless?" He flashed an innocent, beautiful smile. Despite herself, Renee thought he was quite attractive. And young, too. Maybe 21. Maybe less. She didn't know; Jon had never told her David's exact age. All she knew was that he was almost five years younger than Renee, and at least six years younger than Jon. He had dropped out of high school the year before to join the band.

"It's not just you. I'm scared, too." It was the truth. Once she stopped to realize it, she was quite nervous. Her teeth chattered, and she found herself shivering, even though it was far from cold inside the plane. The must inside tickled her nostrils. She wiped them as soon as David turned away.

"Every-un here?" the pilot grunted as he lifted his large frame into his front seat. He finished his cigarette, and put it out on the dash. David never noticed; he was too busy being afraid. Shannon laughed, and kissed him softly. Then, before they lifted off, she asked the pilot,

"Can I come up and sit with you?" Even as she said it, she undid her belt and headed forward, as David tried to stop her.

"Sure, missay. Come right ova here."

"Shannon, what are you doing?" David asked. His knuckles quickly turned white as he gripped the steel bar by his elbows. They looked like they should have a cushion on them or something, but they didn't. It was far from comfortable, and Shannon's leaving only made the situation worse. He felt naked without her close at a stressful time like this.

"I'm having fun, David. You should try that sometime," Shannon said lightly, buckling herself into the front seat, next to the pilot. David fell silent.

Shannon hadn't meant to insult him, but looking at him, Renee knew it had. He worked so hard to provide for Shannon, and Renee personally thought it an ungrateful thing for her to say. Renee could see the hurt in David's face as he turned his head toward her. He dismissed the comment, and buried his head into the window, closing his eyes. He secretly hated when Shannon said things like that. She might as well have punched him in the face. But looking at the wedding ring she proudly bore on her finger as she talked excitedly to the pilot made it all worth it. Oh, well. Not every couple agrees on everything, he said, excusing his shy disposition. Opposites attract, after all--

An hour went on in silence, Jon looking out the window to the deep ocean below. Jon held Renee's hand tightly, and she squeezed it when she got scared. Renee purposely looked ahead to David, as he read a romance novel he'd bought in the airport terminal. He flipped through the pages at an amazing rate, and half an hour later had perused the entire book. Renee, to say the least, was amazed.

"You read all that just now?" Renee asked, leaning forward. David looked up and smiled warmly, the book in his lap. He looked at the cover of it, and turned it over. He gave it to her. She looked at it. A romance novel, definitely. She liked that. So, he was romantic, obviously--

"I tried to take speed-reading classes in high school. They kicked me out because I read too fast." He said it lightly, and not for one second did Renee think he was bragging. They laughed about it together.

"Oh, cool. That's funny," Renee said, "because they wouldn't let me take high-school Chemistry. Swear to God. I took it for two weeks, and after that, I was done with it forever; I graduated from it. I didn't know what to do. I was thirteen years old when it happened. I skipped seventh and eighth grade. Christ, I graduated when I was fifteen—"

"Really? Ha! You just . . . found it easy?" Renee nodded in response to David's question. "Same thing here with English--"

"Oh, God. Is David reading again?" Shannon asked, turning to sneer at her husband. The look Shannon gave him suddenly made him feel as if he'd been caught red-handed masturbating or something. Something awful. The comments she made every single day stung like a million killer bees stabbing him all over his body. All his life he'd been ridiculed; he was a perfectionist when it came to learning. . . and to his drums. For a second he thought, almost bitterly, that if he weren't such a perfectionist he wouldn't be making millions of dollars as a famous musician. The thought that she was ungrateful never crossed his mind, though. She was still young and quick-witted; she was prone to saying things she didn't mean. David made excuses for her in his head, and finally found clarity in her bitterness.

It was the pregnancy, surely. Women got emotional when they were pregnant. And just how did a nineteen year-old guy come to know that? Gee, come to think of it, he had read it somewhere.

"What's wrong with reading?" Renee was frustrated. Shannon's curtness struck Renee as extremely disrespectful. Shannon had no right. David reminded Renee of herself: intellectual. She'd immediately taken a liking to him, even when he was fresh outta high school; still a baby. They'd be good friends someday, surely, if they spent some time together. Renee liked the idea of spending time with David.

"Nothing's wrong with it. He just does it ALL. THE. TIME," she defended. She turned around again, and played with the plane radio, finding a station, and turning it up loud. Shannon and the pilot had a good time, flirting and fucking around with the plane. Every once in a while the plane nose-dived, scaring David shitless every time. Even Jon yelled in surprise.

"Oh, lighten up!" Shannon and the pilot would shout at the same time, laughing hysterically.

David thought it was far from funny. After the fifth time, he snapped at the pilot with a frustrated fury, speaking exactly what the other passengers had been thinking.

"Just drive the plane. PLEASE. Let's just get to the fucking Bahamas, okay? And then you can fuck around with this shitty plane as much as you want." He settled into his seat, and buried his forehead into his palm. Jesus. If he had to spend one more minute in that plane, he was going to blow chunks.

No one talked for a long time, and eventually everyone fell asleep. Yes, everyone fell asleep.

Even the pilot.