Legal Note: All FF8 characters in this story belong to Square Soft. No copyright laws violated intentionally. I just wanted to write a fanfic. My first fanfic too.
I took deep breaths and tried desperately not to panic. The microphone slipped lightly out of my hand onto the stage floor with a harsh thump. The audience watched curiously.
" Laguna...," I spoke under my breath.
" Are you alright Miss Julia?" the barmaid whispered, after just bringing the heartbreaking message.
" I... I can't do this!" I stepped down from the stage and ran up the stairway, leaving the crowd is awe. I didn't bother to go to my compact hotel room, where I have lived for the past year for no cost for performing in the tavern. I dashed out the front doors out into the street. Tears willed their way from my eyes. I stopped fighting them. He can't be dead. Can't be. I felt my soul rip apart with the mere concept of it.
People would stop and glance at me as I quickly fled by. But none came after me. Out of breath, I forced myself to a halt by the bridge. I sat down on the side and frowned at my reflection.
How could this have happened? Why?! The shock started to waver. I closed my eyes. I remembered when we first actually met. He came with his buddies to the bar. I was playing the piano. Some sweet melody. And he slowly confronted me. Lingering around me. I invited him to my room to talk. I had to tell him how I felt. The emotions that surfaced every time he came to watch me. He told me his dreams of touring the world and being a journalist. He talked a lot but his voice was so smoothing. I told him about my fantasy of being a singer. And that he was my inspiration to follow it. Then he left, back to the war. He returned again, and right when I was on the stage, he nervously proposed to me. Rambling an apology for not having enough money to buy a more elegant ring. Then I kissed him passionately. My way of saying yes. He spent a few nights with me. We talked so much about everything. He promised that he would search the world for the perfect spot. To be our haven. Safe from the world. He said he had to be a solider a little longer, so he could do this. I reluctantly let him leave.
"But it'll never happen now," I said bitterly, looking at the unadorned (except for a barely visible pair of little angel wings carved into it) silver ring.
" Is something wrong miss?" a gentle voice spoke from behind. I turned my face to see a dark haired man with tamed eyes. He had a white collared shirt under a navy colored jacket decorated with bright golden pins and straight legged pants of the exact shade of the coat. He obviously was a man of high rank in the military. Which was odd because he appeared to be in his late twenties.
" Nothing sir. I guess I'll be returning back to the inn. Sorry if I disturbed you," I blurted out quickly.
" Please wait. I couldn't help but overhear you crying. But I would like to know if I can be any help with whatever is upsetting you," the man said.
" I'm sorry. There's nothing you can do. Someone close me has died," I blurted again.
" I understand how you feel. I have lost a few friends to death before. Please don't take this in the wrong offense, but would you come to my mansion and maybe we can talk about this? By the way, I am Jeffrey Caraway. Feel free to call me Jeff," said the man politely.
" Oh, my name is Julia Austin. Julia, of course. Are you sure its okay?" I asked. I wasn't sure about what to do. Talk to some stranger or sit by myself crying.
" Certainly Julia." He held out his hand and I timidly took it. It wasn't long before he led me to a huge house.
Note: I separated the story into three parts. Stay tuned for the next two. I would really like your opinions on this.
I took deep breaths and tried desperately not to panic. The microphone slipped lightly out of my hand onto the stage floor with a harsh thump. The audience watched curiously.
" Laguna...," I spoke under my breath.
" Are you alright Miss Julia?" the barmaid whispered, after just bringing the heartbreaking message.
" I... I can't do this!" I stepped down from the stage and ran up the stairway, leaving the crowd is awe. I didn't bother to go to my compact hotel room, where I have lived for the past year for no cost for performing in the tavern. I dashed out the front doors out into the street. Tears willed their way from my eyes. I stopped fighting them. He can't be dead. Can't be. I felt my soul rip apart with the mere concept of it.
People would stop and glance at me as I quickly fled by. But none came after me. Out of breath, I forced myself to a halt by the bridge. I sat down on the side and frowned at my reflection.
How could this have happened? Why?! The shock started to waver. I closed my eyes. I remembered when we first actually met. He came with his buddies to the bar. I was playing the piano. Some sweet melody. And he slowly confronted me. Lingering around me. I invited him to my room to talk. I had to tell him how I felt. The emotions that surfaced every time he came to watch me. He told me his dreams of touring the world and being a journalist. He talked a lot but his voice was so smoothing. I told him about my fantasy of being a singer. And that he was my inspiration to follow it. Then he left, back to the war. He returned again, and right when I was on the stage, he nervously proposed to me. Rambling an apology for not having enough money to buy a more elegant ring. Then I kissed him passionately. My way of saying yes. He spent a few nights with me. We talked so much about everything. He promised that he would search the world for the perfect spot. To be our haven. Safe from the world. He said he had to be a solider a little longer, so he could do this. I reluctantly let him leave.
"But it'll never happen now," I said bitterly, looking at the unadorned (except for a barely visible pair of little angel wings carved into it) silver ring.
" Is something wrong miss?" a gentle voice spoke from behind. I turned my face to see a dark haired man with tamed eyes. He had a white collared shirt under a navy colored jacket decorated with bright golden pins and straight legged pants of the exact shade of the coat. He obviously was a man of high rank in the military. Which was odd because he appeared to be in his late twenties.
" Nothing sir. I guess I'll be returning back to the inn. Sorry if I disturbed you," I blurted out quickly.
" Please wait. I couldn't help but overhear you crying. But I would like to know if I can be any help with whatever is upsetting you," the man said.
" I'm sorry. There's nothing you can do. Someone close me has died," I blurted again.
" I understand how you feel. I have lost a few friends to death before. Please don't take this in the wrong offense, but would you come to my mansion and maybe we can talk about this? By the way, I am Jeffrey Caraway. Feel free to call me Jeff," said the man politely.
" Oh, my name is Julia Austin. Julia, of course. Are you sure its okay?" I asked. I wasn't sure about what to do. Talk to some stranger or sit by myself crying.
" Certainly Julia." He held out his hand and I timidly took it. It wasn't long before he led me to a huge house.
Note: I separated the story into three parts. Stay tuned for the next two. I would really like your opinions on this.