Sky High

The next hour or so was brilliant.
My journey had become so much better with Jack. He talked to me occasionally, but I couldn't bring myself to ask him much.
He asked why I was going to Chicago.
"I'm from there," I replied meekly. I felt the butterflies in my stomach every time he talked to me. "Born and raised." I had to ask why he was going. I knew, though. For a show.
"What about you?"
"I've got work," he grinned.
"Oh cool." I said with a knowing smile. I started to wonder about Alex, Zack and Rian as well as the rest of the crew.
"So, uh, are you alone on the flight, or..?" I inquired. He laughed.
"I wasn't meant to be! I had a few friends with me, but something happened with our flight from Paris the other night and they had to leave one behind. We were going to get a day off between London and the US before we had to work again, but I don't get one. As soon as I touch land, I've got to dash. They reached Chicago yesterday."
I smiled, thinking about how deciding to leave Jack would have gone down. They probably didn't take him because he'd get drunk a night before their show.
"The bastards," he mumbled. I giggled. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't curse in a plane full of people."
"It's fucking fine," I whispered. He laughed.
Eep! I made Jack Barakat laugh!
Just then, my mother walked over.
"How are you doing, Hannah? Everything okay?"
"Yeah mom, I'm fine. How's dad?"
"He's asleep, hopefully he'll be okay when he wakes up."
Then she eyed Jack, who was looking out the window again.
"Stay safe, sweetie," she mumbled as she kissed my head and returned to her seat. I rolled my eyes.
"You're not alone then, I see?" He chuckled.
"Ah, no. I'm not. I'm here with my mom and dad. Oh, and my little brother Jake."
"Couldn't help but overhear, is your dad alright?"
"Oh yeah, he just gets a really travel sick," I replied.
"Hey I've got a friend like that, Alex. You'd think with all this travelling he'd be used to it by now."
I smiled at the mention of Alex's name. Jack's best friend, All Time Low's front man, voice like an angel. I wanted to put my earphones in again just to hear them all together. But that meant not talking to Jack.
I felt like I should ask, since he mentioned it so much.
"W-where do you work?"
I felt really terrible lying. I should have told him I was a fan.
But then again, did he really want to sit through an eight hour flight with someone who loved him, someone who'd die for him? And all he knew was her name? I didn't think so.
"I'm a musician," he said. "I play guitar in a band."
"That's awesome!" I replied with fake amazement.
"Yeah, I guess so. Fans get a little bit crazy sometimes," he's said wearily as he ran a hand through his hair. "I had an encounter with a fan or two in London airport."
"What happened?"
"Uh... Well, usually I've got Matt, our tour manager, or another crew member or band member with me. You know, for some sort of protection or even support. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the fans. Too much, actually." I nodded with a smile. Aw, he loves me. Well, not me singly, but I'm in there somewhere.
"And three 'fans' recognised me and ran up to me and hugged me and it was awesome! I signed some stuff and they took pictures, not that I'm fit for any for of picture taking right now," he laughed as he looked down at his messy clothes.
"But yeah, I said bye and they were off. Then I went to buy myself a coke for the plane ride, and I went to take out my wallet, but it was gone."
He hung his head. He looked so stressed all of a sudden, it was so weird for me to see carefree, childish Jack looking so adult-like, like he was about to crash and fall down.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," I said, genuinely concerned. I couldn't believe the extent some 'fans' go to.
"They took my cash, credit cards, and boarding pass for this flight."
"That's terrible," I whispered.
"Yeah... Luckily enough though, the man at the check-in desk just outside the tunnel to get on the plane? Yeah, he was really helpful and said that he knew I wasn't lying. He contacted some people and although it took a while, I was finally allowed on to the plane. The security guards at the airport said they'd try to identify the girls after I had done my best to describe them."
He looked so sad, like he was close to tears.
"And now I've got to go from Chicago airport to our venue and I have no way of paying for a cab or bus. No cash, no cards, no bottle of coke either," he smiled sadly.
I didn't say a word. Instead I reached down to the bag at my feet and rummaged through until I found my half-full bottle of coke. I handed it to him and he smiled wide.
"You're a saint, Hannah!" He exclaimed as he took the bottle and gulped a bit down.
"You're welcome, Jack!" I laughed when he gave it back.
"Oh, wait," I said, reaching for my bag again. I pulled out fifteen dollars. Clearly not enough for a cab, but maybe a bus.
"Here," I said, holding out the small pile of notes.
"No, no, I can't take your money," he lifted his hands.
"It's just for the bus, I don't mind. I'm sorry it's not much."
"It's plenty, Hannah, but really. Keep it!" I pushed the money in to the pocket of his jacket. He sighed, exasperated but grateful. He knew he needed it.
"Thank you," he put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tight.
"My pleasure," I said quietly.

I couldn't ask for a picture. I couldn't ask for an autograph. I was itching to just burst out and tell him how much he meant to me, and keeping that in for the next seven and a half hours was going to be kind of difficult.
I hadn't seen All Time Low live. I was so close. I had bought the ticket six months ago and was planning on going with two of my friends. We were so excited - none of us could take their songs off repeat.
The night before the concert however, my cousin, my best friend, fell in to a coma. She had to be rushed to hospital by my father, because she was staying at our house when it happened.
That was two years ago.
She hadn't stood or spoken in over fourteen months.
It made me kind of sad to think about both my cousin and the concert. My friends went without me because I told them I was sick and wasn't able to make it. I didn't want to ruin their night by telling them something that I know would make them stay. They took my ticket anyway and got it signed which I kept in my pocket all the time. It was the closest thing I had to my heroes, and now one of them was sitting right beside me.

The flight attendants started walking up and down the aisle offering drinks. I asked for some water and when I reached out, to take the cup with a thank you, my sleeve rode up my arm. And Jack saw my wrist.
"No thanks,' he said to the flight attendant. She walked away to tend to other passengers.
"Hannah," he turned to me and looked me in the eye. I was a little taken aback.
"Yes Jack?"
"I saw your wrists," he frowned. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
I started to panic. He saw my cuts? Oh no. Not good.
"I-I'm fine, really," I stuttered.
"I know what that means, Hannah."
I was so grateful. No one had ever asked me REALLY how I was. "Tired," was always my response. My mother was the only one to know about my cuts, and that was an accident. She treated me so different now.
"I'm just... I don't want to bother you," I managed.
"It's not a bother. Please."
And so I began.