The silence that followed in the galley was vast and heavy. Julian stood completely still, his jaw slightly slack. The thought of giving up First Class—the complimentary drinks, the prestige, the space—to sit in the cramped back rows of economy was a brutal blow to his ego. He walked slowly back to Suite 1A to present the grim reality to his wife. Beatrice looked up at him, her eyes wide with hope, expecting good news.
“There are no other first-class seats,” Julian whispered, leaning into the pod. “It’s either stay here with the broken seats and the infinite loop video, or go to… economy.” Beatrice looked at the rigid leather chair. She looked at the window shade button she had been pressing for hours. Then she looked at the glowing monitor, where the cheerful flight attendant was once again welcoming them aboard Boeing’s finest aircraft.