Martin

As you were taking your seat on the plane, you placed your purse on the seat next to you—no one was supposed to be traveling with you. But suddenly, a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a cap approached. He took your purse and sat down next to you, placing it on his lap.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, trying to make out his face. He took off his cap and looked at you. His features seemed familiar, but you definitely didn't know him.

“I didn’t give you permission to sit down,” you said, looking at his calm face.

"I'm already seated. Are you going to kick me out?" he replied sarcastically.

His affection was disconcerting—otherwise, you would have definitely kicked him out. Catching yourself staring, you quickly turned away.

From Martin's perspective

I wanted to fly safely to my destination. Sitting next to the girl on the plane, I took off my cap so as not to arouse suspicion. I expected admiration—I am a world-famous athlete, after all—but she only reacted coldly. Didn't she recognize me?

That caught my attention. I liked her immediately, and after that reaction, I liked her even more. We started talking and quickly became like old friends.

A flight attendant approached us with magazines. While she was flipping through the pages, I noticed a photo of myself in one. I didn't want her to know who I was—for the first time, I'd met someone who treated me without regard for status or money.

“Such a beautiful view,” I said, distracting her.

She turned to the porthole:

• It doesn't seem like anything special.

While she was looking out the window, I quickly tore out the page with the photo.

“I meant you,” I smiled, watching her reaction.