A celebration. A trip. An airplane. 20 teenagers flying over mountains of dubious safety.

You turn and look at your seatmate, Jack, who has his headphones on. You tap him on the shoulder to say something, and he leans towards you to listen.

A second later, the plane crashes and you remember nothing.

. . .

“Wake up, come on! Fuck!” He shouts with a trembling voice. Your fingers are frozen. You can barely move, but you feel his corpolar heat over you as he shakes your shoulders.