"Like, why do I even have to fucking be here? I could have just taken a fucking bus a couple towns over to get to the John 5 concert. But like, my stupid mom is making me stay with my stupid grandparents, so now I might as well just, like, die or something?"

There's always one on every flight, Lola recited in her mind. She'd thought this was just going to be a simple coast-to-coast flight where she could hang around Tampa Bay and catch some rays for a bit, but those dreaded words from basic training always reared their ugly head.

Which isn't to say she couldn't deal with that kind of thing; she was actually fairly adept at helping with fussy infants after doing this for so long. It was the adults who were harder to handle most of the time.

Or in this case, some bratty So-Cal teen who was one Cradle of Filth song away from going full goth.

"That quite unfortunate, ma'am; would you like some refreshments in the meantime? It's still going to be a few hours before we land," she offered.

They'd only just taken off twenty minutes ago, and it was an eight hour flight.

"Fucking hard liquor," she emphasized, "Or a razor blade so I can just fucking end this torture!"

It was only thanks to her well honed composure that Lola was able to hold back an exasperated sigh. "I can bring the cart by so you can see our selection of alcohol. May I see your ID?" Standard procedure. Sometimes people were older or younger than they appeared, so it always payed to double check.

"Um… fucking why? I'm clearly old enough?"

And then there were the people like this.

"I'm sure you are, but I'm still required to check it anyway."

"UGH, fuck my life…!" The dark-haired girl dug around in a pentagram covered purse before handing a small piece of plastic over to the stewardess. "Like, fucking here."

Lola took the card and looked it over.

"Lillian Aurawell", huh? She definitely fits the name, Lola mused, …uh oh, time to break the bad news.

"I'm very sorry, but I have to ask you to pick something else; I can't serve you alcohol." If Lola were anyone else, she might have flinched at the glare that Lillian sent her way. She handed the ID back to her, "The legal drinking age in the US is 21."

"Fucking bullshit!" The teen roughly shoved the ID and tossed that into the seat next door to her. "I can't even fucking get some booze on this stupid plane! What is this, like, Delta Airlines?"

OK, now you're skating on thin ice, girl.

And on top of that, Lola hadn't been able to get her usual cup of coffee this morning, so she was already a bit on edge.

"This fucking sucks!" the teen continued, "I'm being sent to live with a bunch of skeletons- and not even the good kind- and now some stuck up, prudish stewardess won't even let me have a last fucking meal before I die of boredom; aren't you people supposed to cater to the passengers or something?"

"…'you people'?"

There was a noticeable twitch in Lola's left eyebrow.

"You know, stewardesses? What'd you think I meant?"

Instead of informing the wannabe goth of her almost accidental racism, Lola elected to go a different route.

"Did you know that I grew up in a military family?" she asked, still keeping up her pleasant, professional demeanor.

Lillian blinked in confusion. "Um, like, no? Why the fuck would I-?"

"I ended up moving around a lot, so I never really had a lot of friends while growing up. However, one of the perks of my mother being in the military-" She leaned in closer, her voice suddenly dropping in tone and volume. "-was that I know a lot about self defense."

Lillian leaned back a little. "…OK…?"

"Mhmm. Between the other soldiers I grew up around and my mother's own tutelage, I never have to worry about about being attacked or assaulted by anyone, because I know I can always kick their arse."

Lola could swear she could see a few beads of sweat appearing on Lillian's forehead now.

"Now, I enjoy my job, so I'm going to do my best to give you the best experience possible. But for the record, luv, it'd be much better if we parted on good terms, OK?~"

The goth nodded.

"Perfect!~" Her normal demeanor came back and she once again stood up. "Just let one of us know if you need anything to make your trip more comfortable!~" Then she made her way back to the plane's kitchen to grab the refreshments cart. Lillian's utterance of "Fucking scary…" as she left put a smile on her face.

"I still got it.~"

fin.

/

Wow, another one-shot knocked out in a couple hours! I'm on a roll!

FTR, I wouldn't have brought up race like this s thing wasn't already rated M thanks to Lillian's copious swearing. The only race that matters to me is the Human one.

So, everyone, essentially.

And a little peek behind the curtain: Lillian's just a moody teen, she's not actually racist, so she legitimately didn't realize what she almost said to Lola.