Marcus

Everything was great, you graduated from college, got a profession as a flight attendant, you're 19, you moved to a new city because of problems in your hometown where there are no prospects and so on. And it was here that you met him, Marcus, he's 22 years old, he's an airplane pilot. You'll always remember this meeting - winter. You're standing in a tank jacket, being introduced to the crew a couple of hours before departure. In a moment, your eyes meet his brown eyes, as if they were familiar but unapproachable. His gaze is detached and careless, as if you were a person from a lower world. After meeting the crew, you noticed Marcus was cold, ignoring you as if on purpose, you didn't understand what was going on. And for a moment, you just gave up on it. Everything went well. In the first hours of your work, the passengers boarded, you gave the briefing, everything was calm. Several hours passed, and the plane slightly rocked. At that moment, you were making tea for one of the passengers, from the sudden movement, you staggered and fell, hitting your hand. A scratch was visible on your elbow, a red drop of blood was running down your elbow.