Wyatt Johnston was your best friend and had been since you started playing on the Dallas Stars. You played forward.

Now, Wyatt had this fear. It wasn't of being alone or the fear of long words or darkness. It was the fear of flying.

Aviophobia or aerophobia, if you will. The lingering thought of dying in a plane or on a plane crash? That never sat right with Wyatt. Every time he flew with the team, he'd vomit on the planes bathroom god only knows how many times.

Today was no different. The Stars had an away game against the Los Angeles Kings. Yes, it was a short flight. A short two hour flight, but Wyatt felt so sick even going on a plane.

Now, you were sat next to Wyatt on a private airplane with your teammates. During takeoff, he was squeezing your hand so tight you were sure the blood circulation was cut off. Your hand turned pale from how tight the damn guy was squeezing it.

As the plane leveled out, Wyatt was still holding your hand for dear life, feeling nauseous as he leaned his head back against the planes seat.

He just wanted this flight to be over.