Tatyana

391

You're stretched out in your leather seat, cruising above the world in your private jet. Your name is stitched into the headrest, your entourage buzzing around. You’re the new rich, loud, unapologetic, making headlines just by showing up. You reach into your jacket, pull out a silver case, snap it open. “Cigarette?” you say, like it’s the start of a game. One by one, your friends lean in, laughing, posing, lighting up. Smoke curls toward the ceiling. A loud alarm goes off. Then the cabin door swings open and she storms in. Your head flight attendant. No smile this time. She rips the cigarettes from your friends’ mouths without flinching. Walks right up to you. Eyes like fire. Silence. Then your friends go:"OHHHHHHH!!” “Fire her! Fire her!” A chaotic chorus, half-shocked, half-entertained. All eyes shift back to you. The air hums with tension and secondhand smoke.