The airplane felt like it was crawling through the sky. My ears were blocked, there was no television on the backs of the seats, and my scowl had settled into something permanent. The stale cabin air offered no relief as I shifted in the cramped seat, my knees jammed into the one in front of me. Every minute dragged, stretched thin by irritation and the pounding awareness that I was moving too slowly toward something I should have already fixed.
"The plane isn't fueled by your anger, Aspen. You're scaring the flight attendants."
Manny, in stained sweatpants and a hoodie, slipped his earphones on without urgency. His brown skin absorbed the dim cabin light as he pulled one foot up onto the seat and leaned back, entirely unbothered. I watched him untangle the white cord and plug it into his phone, calm to the point of irritation. He looked like someone riding a bus, not crossing the country with a missing child hanging in the balance.
"Now tell me," I snapped, my voice rising despite myself, "where is my damn kid?"
A few nearby passengers turned to look. Their faces blurred together.
"Stop shouting." Manny glanced around the cabin and lowered his voice, pulling one earbud out. His expression sharpened. "You want other people knowing? Half the people on this plane would kill you for less."
I scanned the rows of strangers headed toward their own destinations. Business travelers. Families. People worried about delays and luggage and dinner reservations. No monsters. No gods.
"Stop staring, fool," he muttered. "Those monsters aren't even for this story." He sighed. "You're gonna give the reader an aneurysm."
He was right, and that made it worse. My kid was missing, and I was on a plane to New York, trapped in a metal tube with a man who clearly knew more about my life than I ever wanted him to.
The thought cracked something in my chest.
"Ugh. Sonny..." My voice faltered. I turned away quickly, blinking hard as the ache returned, sharp and familiar. Guilt came with it, automatic and vicious. All the times I'd told myself later. All the times I'd chosen distraction over presence.
"Look, he's not dead." Manny exhaled slowly, the sound lost beneath the hum of the engines. He lifted a hand, telling me to wait. A flight attendant passed with a strained smile, offering drinks down the narrow aisle. "He's in that Percy Jackson series."
The words didn't register at first.
Percy Jackson.
The name landed like a blow. Sonny had loved those books, plastered his walls with posters of that green-eyed hero. Camp Half-Blood. Gods and monsters and quests. I'd hated the character. The face, the eyes, the effortless pull he had on people. I'd told myself it was jealousy. Now I wondered if it had been fear.
"Ew. Why there?" I gestured too sharply, nearly knocking over the plastic cup of water on my tray table.
"I don't know, you tell me." Manny leaned closer, his voice dropping. "You were the one doing those roleplays. Camp Half-Blood and how you were railing Luke or some shit."
Heat crept up my face, sharp and humiliating.
"That was fiction," I snapped quietly. "Stories. Escapism. It wasn't—"
"Wasn't real?" Manny finished, unimpressed. "Funny thing about gods. They don't care what you meant."
"Piss off." I crossed my arms and sank back just as the plane hit turbulence. The sudden jolt rattled the cabin, drinks sloshing, passengers gasping. I grabbed the armrests, my knuckles whitening.
"Says the guy who spent his teens fantasizing about demigod fanfic," Manny shot back, unfazed. "Seems like you're still writing it."
"What?" I started, anger flaring hot and fast. I would have continued, words spilling out in defense or denial or both, until he cut me off.
"Sonny is right now in the Hermes cabin, unclaimed," Manny said, voice low and precise. "With the other demigods. The plot says Hermes will take claim of him."
The words hollowed me out.
Unclaimed. Not mine. Not anymore.
My kid... wasn't going to be mine?
The thought spiraled, dragging guilt with it. Maybe I'd been neglectful. Maybe all those hours wasted online, lost in fictional worlds, had been hours I should've spent with him. Maybe the universe had noticed.
"You will be an unclaimed camper, Aspen," Manny continued, too calm. "You can fake being a demigod, and then you can go get your baby back."
Right. I smiled. If i could just fake being a demigod. I could enter camp half blood and take my baby before hermes could claim him.
The plane didn't just shake.
It dropped.
A sickening, stomach-lurching free fall dragged on for three full seconds before the engines screamed with a new, terrifying pitch. The metal tube groaned around us. Overhead, an oxygen mask broke free and swung wildly, smacking against the window. Screams erupted across the cabin.
My grip on the armrests was useless. I slammed back against my seatbelt, the strap biting into my shoulder as my head snapped forward. For a moment, all I could see was the flimsy seatback in front of me. The air was thick now, heavy with fear and the sharp tang of ozone.
Then, as abruptly as it began, the violent shuddering eased. The plane still lurched and dipped, but the catastrophic fall was over. My heart hammered against my ribs. I blinked through swimming vision as people cried, prayed, clutched at one another.
I turned to Manny to make sure he was still there.
He was smiling.
Not with relief, but with a serene, almost reverent calm, like he was watching a sunset instead of a disaster. His seatbelt hung loose, unclipped.
"What did you do," I whispered.
My gaze dropped to my tray table.
It hadn't been there a moment ago. I was certain of it. Now a sleek silver laptop sat open, its screen glowing softly in the emergency-lit cabin. The familiar orange and white of Wattpad filled the display.
My thoughts stumbled. What—how—
The title burned at the top of the page, bold and unmistakable.
Aspen – I Survived a Plane Crash
The world went quiet. The screams, the engines, the prayers faded into a distant hum. Cold dread slid up my spine as the words sank in.
I survived.
Past tense. Not a possibility. A certainty.
The plane was going to crash.
I snapped my head back toward Manny, the question trapped in my throat. He met my stare with that same knowing smile and reached over, closing the laptop. The click of the lid echoed, sharp and final.
"To save your son..." he said calmly as the cabin erupted again and the plane tipped into its final descent, "you have to make sure your name will be remembered by all. You're gonna be... a Demigod... named Ashton Mendel."
Ashton Mendel... unclaimed "Demigod". I knew my plan now. Sneak into camp half blood and get my boy out. No left right about it. Just get in. Grab my son and Get out. I looked around wondering if they knew what was going to happen. But they didn't.
I got up off my seat, a villain that knew of prophecies before they-- the plane exploded.