Ashton's POV

A hoard of finely dressed and pajama-clothed travelers speed-walk across the airport, weaving through the crowd to reach their terminal on time. Indecipherable conversations flow around us, an oddly soothing ringing in my ears. My anxiety has reached its max capacity and exhausted my body, resulting in a restless state of mind but immobile physicality. I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Not even inhaling Emmie's lovely fruity scent of her lip balm as I rest my head on her shoulder can relax me.

After checking in, receiving our boarding passes, and spending far too long in security screening, we wait in the seating area by our gate for departure. It's far too stressful to travel, and I hate that we have to transfer to another flight in Dallas since Denver doesn't provide non-stops to Australia. What's worse is that during this twenty hour flight, I will be sitting next to none other than my father. Emilia will be to my right, Dad to my left, and I'll be stuck in the middle with only an armrest acting as a barrier between me and half the biological reason for my existence.

"Your dad keeps looking over here," Emilia whispers, stroking my forearm with her thumb.

I peek out of one eye, spying on my dad who sits a few rows of seats across from us with his chin resting in his palm, scrolling through his phone. His gaze flickers to mine before catching my lurking one and returning to his phone. I close my eye.

"Just ignore him," I say. He hasn't said anything to us since we got here. He only handed us our tickets and went to sit far from us, as if we're really that much of a nuisance to him. Literally everyone except for me and Emmie are asleep, so he should have no reason to act as snobby as he is. I guess I can't expect much of a change from him even if he did buy my painting. "How much longer until we board?"

"A few minutes," Emmie says. "How are you holding up?"

"I don't want to be here."

"Well, at least that's better than what you said this morning."

"Because begging you to murder me for going through with this is sooo much worse than hating my current state of existence."

"In my book it is."

"I should read that book someday."

"It's not a great read; it lacks pictures," she jokes. "I'm nervous too."

My eyes open and I pull away from her shoulder. "What for?"

"I don't know what's going to happen to you when you see Natalie. Things could happen."

My brows furrow. "I really hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking because trust me, that's not going to happen," I strongly assure. "There's no way in hell I'm dropping you for someone who dropped me. I don't ever want you to think that. You trust me, right?"

"Yes."

"Then trust when I say it's going to take a lot more than Natalie to pull me away from you."

"I trust you."

"I'm serious. A lion would have to maul me to death for me to go. Or a demonic clown who manipulates my mind and forces me to become a carnie and then kills me with unamusing jokes."

"You're delusional," she says, laughingly.

"Probably. That's what happened when you can't sleep."

Blaring from the speakers above us, a female on the intercom calls our flight number and advises us to head to the designated gate to begin boarding. Dad slings his laptop case over his shoulder and walks to the gate without us, leaving me and Emmie to wake up our sleeping friends who are sprawled out across the uncomfortable chairs, using their luggage as a pillow.

While the rest of us head to the gate, Michael stays behind to tell Lola goodbye before promptly meeting back up with us. What I like about Lola is that she's doesn't make a big deal that Michael is leaving without her. She just wishes him a safe flight, gives him a hug and kiss, and walks off, knowing he'll be back for her. I have a feeling it's going to be Michael that misses her more than she misses him.

Luke nudges my side as we stand in line at the gate, waiting for the customer service rep to confirm our tickets. "You ready for this?"

I play with the drawstrings on my hoodie. "Ask me again when we land."

He pats my shoulder reassuringly, and at this point, I don't have the energy to stay angry with him. I'm tired and I need both my best friend and girlfriend to support me as I step aboard the plane.

Emmie grips onto the strap of my carry-on bag as we snake through the narrow aisle to our seats. Michael and Luke are sitting a few rows ahead of Calum and Julia, while we have the unfortunate luxury of sitting in the back of the plane. It would have been nice if our tickets were grouped together.

Dad is already sitting in the aisle seat when we get to our row; his eyes unwavering from the laptop resting on his thighs. Being the rude ass he is, he doesn't move as Emmie and I slide across to our seats.

"You've never been on a plane, have you?" I ask Emmie. She struggles to buckle the seatbelt, satisfaction glossing her eyes when she finally hears the click.

"Technically, yes," she says. "My mom was pregnant with me when she and my dad flew to California for a summer vacation."

"But not when you weren't a fetus?"

"No, but plane rides can't be that bad, can they?"

"Wait for the turbulence and you might think differently," Dad mumbles next to me, his eyes fixated on the document displaying on the laptop screen.

I roll my eyes, and he places headphones over his ears, muting everyone. "Don't listen to him," I say. "He's only trying to scare you."

"He hasn't done a good job of it yet," she says, leaning to make sure he didn't hear her. "We can switch seats if you want?"

"I'd rather him annoy me than you. You know how he is."

"But you have enough to worry about."

I shrug. "It's better I stress out here than when we land in Sydney. Having a mental breakdown isn't on my to-do list and if it does happen, I'd rather it be while we're in the air."

She doesn't argue. "You should try to get some sleep. You were up all night."

"I'll try."

The flight attendants go over the emergency safety procedures before the pilot makes witty jokes over the intercom from the cockpit and announces that we will be taking off. The plan subtly vibrates and Emmie nearly bounces in her seat as she peers out the tiny window, watching the airport runway pass as the plane gains speed and lifts off the ground. While other passengers are gripping the armrests or crossing their chests in prayer as the plan tips, Emmie enjoys the ride. The airport falls distant and all city structures become lost in a panorama of land. The wings of the plane rip through the few clouds lingering in the sky, a white fog obscuring our view momentarily until the azure sky cuts through.

The flight to Dallas seemed much shorter than two hours and I can only hope the remaining eighteen will fly by just as quick. Our transfer was relatively smooth minus the half hour we had to wait until the pilot received the okay for takeoff. There is literally no going back now. We are in the air, thousands of feet above ground, and skydiving isn't an option unless I want to drown in the Pacific. I just need to breathe. Deep breaths.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.

Sunset falls too quickly and the night sky puts the entire cabin to sleep. Even the flight attendants have fallen victim to the endless sea of stars. I scoot out of my seat, careful not to wake Emmie or Dad, and walk up and down the aisle, stretching my legs and relieving the numbness. As I walk back, I catch a dim glimpse of Calum and Julia fast asleep, cuddling awkwardly and unknowingly close to the woman next to them. Michael and Luke's mouths are agape as they snore through the muffling music from the fallen earbuds dangling down their necks. They make sleep look so easy.

I hate how quiet it is. It's like an open invitation to delve deep into my thoughts and reminisce. The night-owl life isn't all as good as people make it out to be sometimes.

When I return to my seat, Emmie's head is no longer resting against the window. She sits upright, focusing solely on my face.

"Your eyes are red," she says. She pulls the wooly and extremely itchy blanket one of the flight attendants gave her a few hours ago to her chin. I make the mistake of blinking, a harsh burn forcing tears to well. "You still haven't slept, have you?"

The thing about flights is that some people can casually fall asleep without any worry, while some (me) can't shut their mind off long enough to regain the tiniest amount of energy or close their eyes because they're over-thinking what's waiting for them at their destination.

"You need to sleep, Ash," she asserts, draping a portion of the blanket over my legs. "What's on your mind?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I check on Dad whose chin is tucked in as he sleeps, his headphones still covering his ears. Stay asleep, old man. "For my twenty-first birthday, the guys drove me out of town to go camping," I say, unfazed by the confusion drawing on her face. "It was sort of a 'guys hangout,' which meant no girls allowed. Nat wasn't too thrilled about it. It was rare we ever spent longer than a few days away from each other, so to spend a week without me was tough for her to say the least. I didn't like how attached she was, but I dealt with it because over the years she toned it down—which was something I should have paid attention to but what's done is done.

"During the camping trip, we had no cell phone reception and were basically cut off from the world. It was nice. We went hiking, got lost a few times because of Luke's poor sense of direction, I burned myself trying to set a fire, and we basically just horsed around the entire time. It had been a while since I hung out with the guys without Natalie hanging on my arm. It was almost a relief to be away from her, and I know it's good to have space and all but not like this. I wasn't looking forward to going back home. I wanted to extend our trip just so I'd be away longer. Keep in mind this was a year before I proposed. That was the first time I actually didn't want to physically be with Natalie."

"Where are you going with this?"

I hold up my finger, gesturing for her to wait. "I can't say I didn't love her because I did, but I can say I questioned my happiness with her. You see, being with you has showed me something. Mine and Natalie's relationship wasn't the healthiest. She would fight with me over things that she did and put the blame on me. She always had an issue with taking the blame for things which was irritating but we always worked through it. We knew how to communicate with each other but it always seemed like we talked too much. Yes, you and I talk a lot; yes, we see each other most days; yes, we fight. But none of that is to the degree of me and Natalie."

"You're just now realizing the faults of your relationship with her?"

"I think I always knew, but I kept it out of mind for so long. I've been up for a little over twenty-four hours without sleep, so it has given me some time to reflect. Natalie always said to me, 'I will always love you.' It was her thing. And I never doubted it. It was like having confirmation that this person will stay with me. And I think that's why I never gave it a second thought." As uncomfortable as it makes Emmie, I think she can see how cathartic it is for me to talk about this. Voicing tainted memories and releasing pent up realizations is lessening my nerves. It's liberating.

Emmie fiddles with my fingers, stretching them out and curling them in. "You're not as tense as you were before," she says to herself.

"How much confidence do you have in all of this working out?"

"You've made it this far," she says. "The sky's the limit."

I let out a breathy chuckle. "Was that a pun?"

Her innocent smile draws one upon my own lips. "I haven't seen you laugh today. I like your laugh."

I squeeze her hip, a small squeal escaping her. "And I like you."

"Now you're just stating the obvious," she teases.

"For the love of God, will you two please lower your voices?" The man sitting in the row in front of us is turned in his seat, glaring at me and Emmie with heavy-lidded eyes. "Some of us are having a hard time falling asleep and don't want to hear your sappy back story." Emmie and I stifle our laughter until the man turns back around in his seat and huffs in annoyance. It doesn't help that our volume wakes my dad up; he returns to working on his laptop.

"I think that's our cue to shut up and go to sleep," Emmie says, sharing more of her blanket with me and curling up against my arm with a book positioned open on my lap. As she reads, I hum softly, the tune she's heard a few times before, until her long eyelashes flutter shut.

I pull the book out from under her hand and tear a small piece of paper from the Skymall magazine and use it as a bookmark knowing full well Emmie would kill me if I folded the corner of the page. I did it once before at the library and received a three minute lecture over how indecent human beings who fold corners are the reason why the world is full of stupid people. Her argument didn't make much sense and it was more of a personal problem but it was cute watching her cheeks puff out. Little does she know I still fold the corners to my books.

Nearly falling asleep myself, I continue to hum as I stroke Emilia's hair.

"I'm surprised you still remember that song," Dad whispers, his fingers hovering over the keyboard of his laptop.

"I thought you couldn't hear us," I say. He tugs on the cord to his headphones, revealing the unplugged jack. "Don't make such a big deal out of it," I huff. "It's hard to forget after you sang it to me every night when I was a kid."

"Do you sing it to her often?"

"Occasionally."

"Did you ever sing it to—"

"No."

"Did you buy a wedding gift?"

"No."

"Have you made plans to see her?"

"If this is your attempt at small talk, you're going a terrible job."

"It's just a simple question."

"No, it's not." I try to keep my voice low. "You always have to bring up Nat when we talk. It's always her. Nat isn't here. She's not the one sitting next to me. She's not the one sleeping on my shoulder. I'm sick of you pushing her on me like it's my duty to be with her when it's not. It's Nathan's job, not mine. I don't know what bullshit story Nat's dad told you, but do you want to know the real reason why we ended things?"

"He said it was over some disagreement."

I laugh with what little energy I have left. "If only it was a disagreement. She was cheating on me with Nathan months before I proposed. I caught her in the act. On top of Nathan. With her engagement ring off."

"That's enough. I don't need you to paint a picture for me."

"Why not? It's what I do best, or is it because she's not little miss perfect like you thought? Do you finally see why I'm so bitter about everything regarding her? Do you finally see why it pisses me off so much when you compare her to Emilia? I hate how you're so hung up on me being with Nat. Is Emilia really not good enough for you to accept?"

"I never said that," he says sternly.

"Then please stop with this Natalie thing. I'm stressed as it is, so please just stop." It's taking effort just to hold my head up. I need sleep.

Just when I think our conversation is over, he speaks up. "How long have you two been together?"

"Four or five months," I answer.

"That's it? You two act like you've been together longer."

"Everyone says that."

He lightly taps the keyboard with his finger like a metronome. "I don't hate her."

"You just don't like her," I scoff.

"Don't put words in my mouth. I saw potential when you were with Natalie. I could see a stable future for you two."

"You weren't even there, so how would you know?"

"I had my ways of checking in on you."

I roll my eyes. "That's not creepy at all."

"What I'm saying is I don't know what to expect from you and Emilia. I can't see a definite future plan for you two."

"That's because life isn't planned, Dad. It wasn't planned for Natalie to cheat on me. It wasn't planned for me to meet Emilia. Life just happened. And that's how it's always going to be. We don't know what the future holds for us either. But for right now, we're enjoying what we have."

That shuts him up. Does he really believe that relationships follow a strict plan? That there's no room for trial and error? That life likes to throw a curve and shake up whatever 'plan' there is? It would be boring if everything was planned. It wouldn't be worth it. What's the point of struggling if everything is already laid out for us? That's not a life worth living.

"I have a job offer for you," Dad says, and I throw my head back against the seat cushion.

"You really don't know when to give up do you? I don't want to work in busin—"

"It's not business," he cuts me off. "Cathleen's sister wants you to paint a mural at the children's hospital. She liked your painting. A lot. She's willing to pay a great amount for you to do it."

"Are you serious?" I can't even differentiate if I'm excited or doubtlessly suspicious.

He nods slowly, as though he's resisting. "She wants you to call her when you get the chance to work out the details...if you choose to accept, that is."

I have every right to not believe him, but given his uncomfortable demeanor, I don't think he's lying. He wouldn't directly ask me if this were a scam. This would be my first paying art job. Who knows where this could lead my career?

"I'll think about it."

He gives me the homewrecker's sister's number and shuts down his laptop before turning his head opposite to me.

Maybe this flight isn't completely abysmal. I have a possible job lined up for me, Emmie made me smile like the godsend she is, and my mind is finally catching up to my body. I turn my shoulder and rest my head atop Emmie's, her body wrapped securely in my arms.

In less than ten hours I'll be back home.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax.

I have nothing to lose. I'm ready.

_____

A/N: Their trip has officially (sort of) begun. They will start their Australian adventures in the next chapter and I hope you guys are looking forward to it just as much as I am! The song that Ash hums in this chapter as well as in chapter 29 and 49 of Paint You Wings is actually Photograph by Ed Sheeran. Make of it what you will :)

Australian readers! If you would like to suggest some places in the Sydney area to include in their trip, please let me know. I have a few places in mind but I would love your suggestions.

Love you all so much! –Rebecca xoxoxoxoxo