Just So Red

By, Prince Lumminuex Sammael or Reno Bristow MAGE OF THE MANY

I was on the stage of the Seventh Heaven gliding my fingers across the piano keys when I first met his eyes. My concentration was on an old love's tune. I forced myself to forget her name because she was my romance and the first person I ever treasured.

I can't picture the final night I spent with her because it's a matter of life or death, so it feels. She worked in a place like this. In fact this is reminiscent of the old gig house.

This tune... she would hum it in my ear softly whenever there was a moment of silence between us. That night the tune became a song with lyrics that I wouldn't ever forget. Some of the lyrics admitted that sometimes she didn't believe the words I said. When she got off the stage and all her fans had left her to be, I advanced her, kissed her soft cheek and apologized. "Do you believe that I love you?" I got a load off my chest then. She awarded my honesty and courage...

Afternoon came and she wouldn't pick up her cell phone. I tried to ignore it and program the idea that she was okay into my mind. I called again and thrice more. I decided to call her house but forgot she didn't own a home phone number. I found no option but to visit her and see for myself that she was okay and she probably had her cell turned off.

Things didn't go quite the way expected- she was forever gone from then on and I couldn't find the amount of tears to shed.

That evening at the second attempt at the club I demolished in old Midgar in the Sector 7 explosion I summoned her song from the depths of my memory which I had purposely misplaced for the sake of my future.

Tifa is a manipulating woman willing to set aside ideology and individual integrity at any time! And I'm no better for letting her talk me into doing such a suicidal thing. I was almost to tears when I met him. His unnatural timeless stare shattered all emotion in my body rendering me a heartless carcass whose fingers wouldn't cease from the melody they had permanently absorbed.

I hesitated to debating if I were falling into an emotional shock which memories were only to blame or if his eyes really were a gory crimson. It was a monstrous sight. However, it was uncanny but something about them was as natural as exhaling. The peculiarity seemed to be dimmed down by understanding. I understood that expression it was no expression at all because it was the face sorrow and time bestowed.

The point had come that my voice had to fill in the next piece of the music and I did still staring blankly at the pale face with all human drained from me.

"Too distant- sometimes your silence carries me away..." I finished. Finally back to reality I struggled for breath and altered my glance to the fingers resting on some keys to create the lingering affect.

Through water filled ears I could catch muffled shouts of approval. I was not completely back- and then there was a crescendo of murmur. Shiva struck me back to senses.

"Thank you," I began monotonously. "That was a nameless song by an old memory." I stood up.

A tug at my ripped jeans made me stumble forward a bit. It was Yuffie and she smiled at a Turk, me. I focused on her warming beam to see if I could somehow leech some. "You were great!" She had enough jolly to spare thank the Gods. Her grip was tight around the fabric I couldn't escape. It didn't feel right looking down at her. That was how my victims were seen at their last moments. I resisted her hold until she gave in.

Turning at the corner of the stage I was tackled to an embrace. The Wutan's arms wrapped around my neck as her knees purposely crumbled underneath her. I took the bait and held her up by the torso and gave her my trademark smirk. She ruffled my flaming hair amorously flattening the spikes a bit.

Stealing my sunglasses she scampered over to the bar. Not once looking back and trusting I would follow so confidently. She hung out a bit too much with the lady of the club.

Speaking about the lady of the club, as I followed the giddy teen to her place at the bar I felt a diminutive pat on the back. Reflexes created in the battle field mandate me to choke the surprise foe but I resisted, trusting I was amongst friends and that the sweet smell of whatever it was, was Tifa.

"Yo?" I chuck. She laughs and keeps me walking.

"How do you feel about doing this again real soon?" she says adeptly. I mastered the same vote however so I can only smirk omnisciently. This time I swear upon my nonexistent soul I won't do it.

Two young women and their dates clear an area. One squeals drawing my attention. By the she wobbled on her three inch heels and disregarded her rising sateen flushed skirt she seemed a little tipsy. Her boyfriend, a tall blitz ball player, had just yanked her closer to his side.

Before my senses the area had completely cleared. It was as if destiny had mandated it. My bright blue eyes with their excited lime hue caught a glimpse of – him.

His gloved hand held the handle of a glass. The rose lights reflected dramatically off the lacquer and his raven tresses. Within this glass was a wheat-colored substance that fizzled a bit, no doubt alcohol.

The rim of the, now, pastel pink container met his lips at a snail's pace. I then hear myself mumble through cotton stuffed ears. "Sure," I say involuntarily. I had forgotten who exactly I was talking to. My mind was a blank slate. I couldn't exactly comprehend why. "I'd love to," I continued. Tifa was delighted and expressed so by squeezing my shoulders and pulling close to me. Her lips tapped my cheek. My scarred cheeks became ardent at the feel of the heat of her breath and lips. I would have never expected anything of the sort from the lady of the bar. But my face was death stricken again when crimson met blue.

It wasn't exactly clear to me why Tifa had been calling for me so often. I was beginning to suspect what might, in fact, have been a misunderstanding.

With Rufus Shinra "laying low", which was probable, I didn't mind assisting the swelled-chested woman, especially because just for wiping a few tables my pay was a free meal and drinks.

It was already "real soon" and I stood in the spotlight created by the moon fire dragging a fag. I tilted my head back and read, "Seventh Heaven."

I flicked the addiction to the side. From the solemn darkness of the forsaken alley nearby it stared conscientiously back at me like a glowing crimson eye.

My time was just beginning and so was the show...

The spiky, blond haired delivery boy, Cloud wasn't anywhere insight. From what Tifa said, despite his promise to her and their adoptive brats, Marlene and Densil, he'd disappeared from their lives so far and Tifa new this to be a fact since her ring finger was once more bare.

I didn't blame him. By my standards he was correct to do what he did, in a sense. My motto went a little to this affect: To get rid of the pain you had to get rid of the remains.

I was terribly taken aback when I stepped in. A stranger had gotten a grip of my wrist and led me. It took me not too long to notice who the foreigner was. It was the Wutan. She was wearing a sassy and rigid garment. It shaped her waist rather well. Her beige globe voyager like shorts gave her a very retro yet modern affect the same with her knee-high laced boots which were the same pastel granny smith color as her corset.

She brought me to the bar. Tifa was on the other side of the counter wiping glasses. I sat on a red stool not taking time to ask Yuffie what her purpose was.

Yuffie held my arm as if I were her escort or something of the sort. She glanced up at me at times with so much enthusiasm I couldn't tell if she was on something or not. I came to acknowledge that she was on something, me. Though, she was exceptionally attractive I didn't think there would be anything severe between us, being the big flirt that I am I smirked back. Then I turned to Tifa and quirked a brow. The bartender giggled a bit but then gave me that don't you dare look. Don't I dare what? My face said. Tifa slammed her hand on the counter fiercely. Yuffie jumped up and I leaned forward to challenge her deadliest expression. She was fuming with motherly rage. I gave her one of my most playful-normal expressions. She cracked a smiled but her brows were still furrowed.

"Don't worry," I began. "I won't." Yuffie was the diminutive person in the vast wilderness. Her cry was drowned out by the howl of a lone wolf...

Due to my lack of sincere interest in Yuffie I kept my promise to Tifa that night...

Seventh Heaven, in spite of being a club was very composed. There weren't that many intoxicated failures or psychiatrically dismantled people craving for attention. It was a place to decipher the solutions to one's tensions in a tranquil meditative state while at the same time socialize and open up to other individuals, sort of like a café but with alcoholic beverages. Alas with the involvement of alcoholic beverages there had to be some kind of buzz in the air which made it a good place to come across intimates.

However, I only came to that place to forget about the day and drink until I couldn't lift my eyelids. I was always accompanied when I went there but during the course of those days or so I was always on my own, which was why I had only so much rum. Either way my head always ended plastered onto the counter's surface. Occasionally I'd end up with a fan girl in my pants.

I hadn't seen him for a while. I doubted I'd ever see him again which I categorized as superb. I couldn't tolerate and grasp the feelings that welded up inside me when I met his gaze. I couldn't help begin to consider that I was actually enthralled in a rapture of a schmaltzy wave either, because my emotions committed suicide a long time ago. Phoenixes only exist in fantasies. Then again we aren't sure what reality is.

I was outside sitting on a cardboard box near some trash bags in the alley. A rat the size of my foot would scurry back and forth from a hole to a tipped over garbage can. My arms were crossed behind my neck and my addiction between my lips piercing the atmosphere with its burning light and drowsy smoke.

Thanks to peripheral vision I got a glimpse of a red figure. I wasn't exactly sober. It was too late when I began to become conscious of the figure. It came across my mind that it might have been him in his strange red cape but doubt got the better of me and so did my intoxication.

Soon after, something fell onto my lap. My body was slow to react. I gasped and then calmed when something balmy met my neck. Whatever it was giggled and gave itself away.

"Yuffie?" I asked through a hazy voice. I could see her smile in the darkness of the once forsaken alley. I rolled my eyes or something to the affect.

"Hey Reno, you know you should really stop smoking and drinking it's really bad for your health," she said doing a little jig on my lap. I groaned.

"Get off me if you're going to start with that bull." She obviously disregarded that and got authentically comfortable on me. Exactly what was in that box that could withstand the weight of two people?

"Well, it's true. Do you know what smoking and drinking does to your body?" she continued. I would have chucked her off me if I wasn't so sedated at the time.

"Yes I know. I don't care, at all," I mumbled.

"Oh," she replied. Yuffie was annoying me to the limits with her attempt to lecture a man such as myself. I was awfully attentive of the consequences of my addiction and overindulging ethanol but as I had stated previously I did not care, at all.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were a virgin," I blurted. Her silhouette was now stiff.

"What is that supposed to mean!" she returned.

"You have no idea how to turn a guy on, yo," I mustered. Her hands met her hips like Tifa's does. "Oh yeah, don't take any of my money because I know how much I have in there and I swear I will kill you if you mug me," I recalled. Yuffie had sticky fingers and it wasn't a good thing she was a ninja. I could picture her fuming then. Her legs tightened around my waist and her grip around my wrists tightened too. Everyone held that against her.

"Reno, you are mean," her tone was sulky; an improvement. She did another jig and reached for my zipper. I couldn't fight I just didn't care. Now, I was on my way to ride with Yuffie for a while and see if I could get her out of my hair. She was definitely begging for it and I was a very generous person, thing is you have to supply me with what is necessary. She was all ready. Tifa had no idea and if she did I wasn't aware of it and didn't exactly care. I kept my word. I didn't provoke, she did.

"This is just for a night Yuff," I said before everything went extremely dim. I did get her reply and it was an angry huff...

Like countless amounts of times I had awoken to an unfamiliar room with half of my wardrobe missing. The walls were rather grey due to the lack of light in the room. On the night table near my face a picture of the AVALANCHE group stared back at me. Cloud seemed his usual angst contaminated self. And Tifa seemed worried about him more than the picture and- there in a corner he was. His eyes were almost entirely closed as he looked to the side. His mouth was hidden like usual in the collar of his red cape. His hair flowed to his shoulders neatly. I couldn't help reach for the image and resume my former position with it in hand. I could have spent hours just wondering about it.

What was he thinking? What happened to make him such a cross bearer? Was there some one special in his life? I felt myself tense as I asked the last question. Why would I even care? Subconsciously my thumb caressed his image. I couldn't stop starring but I eventually regained control and my sight shifted to giddy Yuffie on the other side of the photo. I cringed at the memory of last night. What was Tifa going to say? Headache, queasiness, dehydration, and illness the symptoms of excessive drinking over power me. In a shaky rush I lay the photo down on the night table and hang my head from the bedside holding my ponytail back.

My stomach muscles contract and there is a burning sensation pestering my judgment. I can taste the acid by now. I belch and gag. A cough sounding more like a whoop escapes my throat. I feel myself losing balance while my knees become pudding. My hanging head makes my eyes tear and my nose run a bit. Finally the contents of my stomach splatter noisily onto the floor. I find myself unable to breathe correctly and quivering in disclosure. I wipe my mouth with my thumb and nose with the back of my hand. Then I take a deep breath that gets me coughing.

Through my paroxysm I could hear footsteps coming closer. They were metallic yet soft. I couldn't stop coughing I swore I was to asphyxiate and die on my own fluids and digested contents. The warm acid adorned waste melded with the previously discarded on the floor. You'd think that I was used to waking up and vomiting my intestines but this was my worst case ever. I thought it would be my final. In agony I whimpered and shook. My arms collapsed under me. Slowly I began to breathe again. Though, my inhalation was disturbed by a minuscule cough recurrently. I had never felt so feeble.

Disappointment in me came almost at the same time as the smell of tart acid discarding. How could I let my body lose like that? I couldn't give. It wasn't like me. I tried to push myself up once more. My arms were strong enough to support me.

Properly seated now, I attempted to stand. Swinging my legs to the other side of the bed I began to gag again but I was victorious. The Reinforcement; the headache bit but once more I was victor. Now completely on my feet I headed to the exit. My head was light. Everything came down on it. My knees couldn't take anymore. I collapsed but never met the floor everything went red...

Something cold was against my back it was piercing my flesh as well. My eyes had shut to help me tolerate the sickness. My lips felt dry and various parts of my body felt as if they were spiraling. My head felt like it was being weighed down. My eyes felt completely out of place. I met the bed again. I was sniffling like mad trying not to let my tears or snot seep out.

A box hit my pillow. "There," someone said. Their voice was deep and raspy, quite emotionless actually. I opened my eyes. I could only see the dark ceiling. Shifting my sight to the box I reached for it. It was tissue.

"Arigatto," I thanked. I tried to sit up but my light headedness threw me back down. I fixed myself up either way.

I got a few breaths out correctly and was able to sit up in the bed. I put on my smirk and turned to the person whom had been so helpful to me. I whimpered and trembled.

"Ah-ah, Y-you- uh," my smirk faded. I don't know what expression I had on but his was very stern. His miserable crimson eyes moved to my unzipped black pants. My light cerulean ones followed his lead. They had sagged plenty and my manhood was practically exposed.

He raised his brow at my mane-less length while I smirked to myself at him doing so. Of course I had reason to believe that his reaction was positive due to the fact that it was a very well and taken care of length. I disregarded my near nudity and focused on him.

"Thanks again." There was some lament in my vote. I didn't desire him to see me in this condition. I was pitiable and what seemed destitute. I could only imagine how pale and sickly I seemed. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed and turn a shade of pink at the cheeks. I could see he noticed the hue.

"It is fine," he replied. His voice was a bit more comforting.

"They call me Reno," I began but was interrupted by.

"I know. I could not help but ask." It was to a certain extent palpable that I would ask him how he knew. I felt like I was about to crack a smile but-

"Vincent, is he okay?" His name was Vincent. Vincentius, to conquer, I was now sure he had conquered me. However cheesy that was to sound it was exactly what had happened.

The intruder was Tifa. She too had stopped to star at my masculinity. I threw myself back on the bed.

"He will be fine," Vincent answered...

A nice cup of Joe does the trick fairly well. I was at the counter involuntarily nodding off with what feels like later might turn to delusion. Vincent was next to me avoiding all eye contact. His actions made me feel rather frivolous. My pants are zipped but the contents of my shirt are unknown. I check my pockets. I have my ID and a small purse of gill.

"Asher Cináed Bristow," Vincent said. "Why then, do you call yourself Reno?" Damn him peeking at my ID.

"What are you trying to say?" I requested.

"What do you suppose I am implying?" Vincent sent lifelessly.

"Why are you trying to turn this around?"

"Why won't you answer my question?"

"Why won't you answer mine?" He sighed.

"You're twenty?" he masterfully changed the subject.

"I look older don't I? Just goes to show you what smoking and alcohol does to you," I answered accepting the change. I took a sip off my coffee and he watched like I once watched him.

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