How Long Is 'Fly On' By Coldplay?

My wife is a pilot. We had our wedding three years ago, but she's stood me up 18 times since then when we agreed to register our marriage. The first time she stood me up was when her apprentice took his first flight. I waited outside city hall the whole day for her. The second time she stood me up was when she turned around after receiving a call from her apprentice. She left me by the roadside. Later, whenever we set a date to register our marriage, her apprentice would run into all sorts of trouble. Finally, I decided to leave her. But after I board a flight to Avalonia, she chases me all the way there like she's lost her mind.

During a long holiday, my husband booked flights for a family vacation. On the way to the airport, I suddenly saw numbers appearing on everyone’s head. The numbers on my husband’s head indicated sixty years, but my parents and I had only six hours indicated on our heads. While I was puzzled over the meaning of those numbers, I noticed that the driver next to us only had six seconds indicated over his head through the car window. Five… Four… Three… Two… One. When the number turned zero, a massive truck immediately rammed into the car next to us. I saw flickers of fire, flesh and blood exploding before my eyes. People were screaming for help, but I could not hear anything. I trembled as cold sweat drenched my entire body. It was because my flight would be taking off in six hours.

I disappeared in the year Sebastian Ferraro loved me most. For thirteen years, he never got an explanation. And for thirteen years, I punished myself by never watching his games, never saying his name, and never thinking about the promise we made in that old hockey rink. Until I returned to this city and saw a faded poster outside the abandoned arena. Sebastian was only seventeen in the photo. He stood at the center of the ice, bright-eyed and fearless, with one sentence printed beneath him: Wait for me past the blue line. That was his promise to me. And I had missed it for thirteen years. Later, I collapsed inside his arena. When I woke up, the boy I had once failed was standing beside my hospital bed. Only he was no longer a boy. He was a professional hockey star. The heir to the Ferraro crime family. And a man whose fiancée was about to marry him. I wanted to tell him why I had left all those years ago. But he looked at me and said coldly, “The past is over. Don’t cause any misunderstandings.” That was when I finally understood. I no longer had the right to disturb his life. So I smiled, swallowed every truth I had kept buried, and booked a flight to New Zealand. I thought leaving was the last thing I could do for him. Until that plane disappeared from radar. The news spread through the whole city. Everyone said Sebastian Ferraro lost control at the airport. He went through the passenger list again and again, screaming my name like a man who had already lost everything.

Brandon Smith has flown for eight years. I've been with him since the time he was an assistant pilot, all the way until he successfully rose to the ranks as the head pilot. In the year Brandon's busiest with his career, I resign from my job and begin cooking according to his aviation schedule. Just once, I bring up the question, "Can you please show me the sight of being thousands of feet in the air in the near future? Just once, please!" Brandon continues eating from his plate. "The plane is a workplace, not an amusement park for you." I reply, "Okay." Since then, I never bring up that matter in front of him. That is, until I find myself suffering from insomnia one night. That's when I accidentally come across an encrypted photo album tucked away in Brandon's phone. There are over 40 photos in the album, all from his perspective as a pilot. There are seas of clouds, sunsets, double rainbows after a downpour, as well as the Milky Way in the night sky when the plane is over thousands of feet in the sky. Every photo has been sent to the same person with a bear's emoji as their name. The latest photo is a photo of the beautiful evening colors from three days ago. Half of the sun can be seen in the clouds. The caption that comes with the photo says, "Today's sky is still beautiful as ever. When you come over next time, you can take the observation seat on the right. It gives you the best angle of the sky." The bear emoji person responds with a hugging emoji and a short sentence. "Wait for me to go on my break." I put Brandon's phone back where it belongs without changing the password and deleting the album. Once the morning sun is up, I brew myself some coffee as usual before finishing it quietly. Then, I turn on my computer and book myself a flight ticket to Dalco. It's been eight years. Finally, I don't have to chase after Brandon's flight routes and wait for his mealtimes. I no longer have to stay in an empty house while guessing which flight destination he's headed to right now. Since Brandon's sky refuses to tolerate my presence, I shall move my roots elsewhere and watch the sunset on my own.

My wife and I were both liars. She lied to me 99 times. "I'll forget all about him, I swear." That man was her first love. She never did forget about him. I only lied to her one time. To get her to sign the divorce papers. Time came to the final day of the cooling-off period. Three hours before it was up, I packed up all my stuff and bought a flight ticket to another country. Two hours before it was up, I cut up all my photos that had her in it, leaving only myself. One hour before it was up, I placed the divorce papers on the table. When she saw the papers, they drove her mad.

I become a firefighter after getting abandoned by my ex-wife, who's a domestic abuser. At first, I think my fiancee, the heroic Captain Cassadee Flack, will be my salvation. But at the blazing scene, the warehouse explodes for the second time due to the scorching temperature. What makes things worse is that the oxygen in my tank will deplete soon. I reach out to Cassadee for help, only to witness her passing the last spare oxygen tank to Colin Halfpenny, the teammate standing next to her. "This is Colin's first time entering a blazing scene. He's terrified, whereas you have enough experience under your belt to deal with this situation. You should hang on for a while longer." I'm choking on so much thick smoke to the point that I almost suffocate from it. Angered, I point at the blinking red light on the control panel. "If I keep suffering from the lack of oxygen, my brain will eventually die! This is the standard procedure of a rescue mission!" Cassadee wears an impatient look. "Why are you being this petty? I promised Colin's dad, who sacrificed himself for me, that I'd take good care of Colin! Can't you be more empathetic? "I thought you could endure pain the best! Back then, you didn't even let out a groan when your ex-wife broke your rib! How is it possible that you can't endure such a small difficulty in this mission? "I finally understand what kind of person you actually are! Someone who's grown up in nothing but pain and misery is bound to be selfish!" I no longer utter a single word to Cassadee. Instead, I use all of my strength to press the emergency SOS button on my helmet. "Command center, please send help immediately. The on-site commander has demonstrated severe misjudgment in handling the situation. I request compulsory intervention."