The flight attendant, Hailey Evans, with her signature smile, apologetically informed him, "Mr. Williams, I'm sorry. Due to an unexpected public event, we need to prioritize the evacuation of passengers from the original flight. We have to wait until everyone's on board before we can see if there's a seat for you."

Mr. Williams erupted in anger. "Weren't you the one who said we could take off? Now you say we can't! Are you playing with me? I'm going to file a complaint!"

Hailey Evans, worried he might disturb other passengers, pulled him aside.

I was in the same situation, but I stayed calm.

I tried negotiating with Hailey Evans. "There are fewer seats in business class. I can downgrade if there's a seat available for me to get on the plane."

Hailey Evans looked helpless. "I can't decide that. I'll need to consult with my supervisor."

The young couple was also stopped.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Zimmerman and Mr. Nelson, your flight is a connecting one. Since the previous flight was canceled, you cannot take off. You need to repurchase your tickets."

Mr. Nelson was frantic. "What? I have another flight after this!"

Ms. Zimmerman lost her earlier sweet demeanor. "I told you not to go for the cheap connecting flights. Now look! What about the next flight? We can't refund it, and we can't catch it either!"

I pushed to the front of the queue, but Hailey's response was still, "No seats, please wait."

Suddenly, I lost interest in the spectacle.

With every flight, a few people were left behind due to overbooking. The number of stranded passengers kept rising.

The waiting area was filled with complaints.

Before I knew it, I looked around.

There were at least dozens of us left here.

And my overbooking compensation had accumulated from two thousand to six thousand dollars.

From morning till night, not a single seat appeared for me on three flights. My patience wore thin.

The news said the toxic gas outside the airport hadn't dissipated, and the situation was uncertain.

Many decided they wouldn't wait any longer and demanded refunds.

Hailey Evans was happy to oblige.

She handed out waiver forms, saying, "After the refund, we won't be responsible for any consequences of your stay at the airport or if you leave."

The crowd fell silent.

Everyone was stunned.

Mr. Williams was the first to react, "What do you mean by this? There's toxic gas outside, and you're just going to abandon us here?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure about the follow-up arrangements either."

Hailey's mechanical smile was no longer enough to calm the growing discontent.

The crowd erupted into chaos, quickly splitting into two factions.

One group believed the gas must have dissipated by now and wanted to leave, not willing to wait at the airport any longer.

The other believed the airport was the safest place and just wanted to wait for a flight.

I got pushed to the back of the crowd, catching a glimpse of Flight Attendant Ingram leading a man in sunglasses hurriedly past without checking tickets, straight onto the boarding bridge.

Something was wrong! Very wrong!

There was no boarding announcement, so how could he get on?

I rushed to the front, pointing at him, demanding answers.

"Why can he board the plane?"

Hailey Evans looked troubled, skirting the issue by asking me to wait in the business class lounge.

Nearby, a businessman, who had been quietly working on his laptop, suddenly spoke up, his voice like a thunderclap.

"Don't tell me you're only letting the powerful and influential on board, planning to leave the ordinary passengers here to die?"