Cloud's heart raced as he stood under the dazzling lights, flashing and spiraling above his head. Never had the blonde been so overwhelmed, and it was obvious to those watching. His mouth was gaping, his cerulean eyes as wide as bright blue planets, reflecting a sun in some far away galaxy as he continued to stare across the rows upon rows of seats. Sweat began to drip from his forehead, moistening the back of his black t-shirt, the heat from the spotlights burning into him, physically and emotionally, pushing him forward to the microphone—
"Hey, Spike," a crass southern voice called through the small black headset attached to the nineteen-year-old's ear, "You gonna stand there all day like a little girl or are you going to get that mic set up, we got s%!# to do here, a show to run, a bird to get in the air. Don't fuck up or it's on me."
It was the first day of the teen's new job, in cliché terms, the first day of his future. He was going to make it to this stage one day. Not just as a roadie, but as the real deal. He was hardly even a roadie anyway, he was the "Here, do this somewhat degrading task for me" kid. Setting up the mic was the first actually tech related task he'd been trusted with and oh, it felt great.
"And I want a coffee so after you're done with that you're on doughnut duty."
"I'm on it, Cid," Cloud mumbled, blinking to get the spots out of his eyes as he quickly got to work setting up the mic. He was the tech guy for his own band that had 'temporarily' disbanded the past summer for the pursuit of greater things, a.k.a. most of his friends going to university. It just wasn't easy to find a replacement singer for a rock band in a small mountain town, let alone a drummer. Tifa had gotten into some fancy private school and Barrett was on an athletic scholarship to University of Cosmo Canyon, which left him on bass and Yuffie on keys. If it was even possible for one of them to sing, he doubt he'd want to spend that much time with Yuffie alone, who'd been lucky enough to score a job in town (entirely due to her father's influence) and was going to community college.
So Cloud Strife, a failure of a student, without a mayor for a father, or even a father at all, to offer him an easy job, went in to the music industry due to a huge favor from a family friend. Music was really the only thing he could say he was good at, his only good grades in school being in Guitar and Tech Theater.
The band was called SOLDIER. Chart topping, multi-platinum band, SOLDIER, who Cloud had been quietly obsessed with since their first, not so famous album. Quietly obsessed meaning he kept his poster of lead guitarist, Sephiroth Jenova, safely tucked away from the prying eyes of his nosey mother.
"Cloud! Get on that damn coffee!" Cid shouted again in his ear.
"Yes, sir." It wasn't that Cloud minded being on coffee duty. It wasn't exactly trouble to go and buy doughnuts, but he did want to contribute to the show in a more. . .technical way. He hopped down from the stage, and set out across the vast concrete floor of the stadium. The signal in here is bull shit, Cloud thought to himself, attempting to look up the closest chain coffee shop. He jogged quickly up to the front entrance of the stadium where cell service was most abundant, finding and calling a number for a 'Coffee King.' "Hello, I'd like to make a pick up order for Highwind." The cashier spoke on the other end of the line, asking about the order. "Um, do you guys sell those big, sharing sized coffee things? Yeah, one of those and like two dozen assorted doughnuts."
"That'll take like fifteen minutes, I think," the cashier mumbled and a loud voice, who Cloud presumed what was the guy's boss scolded him for being 'so damn wishy-washy.' "I mean, it's definitely going to be fifteen minutes. No question. It will also definitely be 260 gil"
"Cool, thanks." Cloud hung up just as the cashier was told to stop being a sarcastic piece of shit. It was almost every day that he acknowledged his immense luck at not having to work an annoying job like that for the rest of his life. At least he didn't get forced into working as an engineer at the reactor because there sure as hell weren't a lot of other options in his small, hick town. If your family didn't have a trade, then you weren't going into a trade, and his mom worked as a waitress at the local pub.
"Zachary Fair, get back here right now, I'm not finished talking to you!" Cloud quickly spun around to see the bassist of SOLDIER rounding the corner of the concessions area, seemingly quite terrified.
"It's just a scraped knee I really don't need you to fix it or anything, really!" The spikey, black haired man stopped for a second, looking for a place to run, his frantic eyes locking with Cloud's. And then he was off again, this time in the techie's direction. His knee was bleeding pretty badly, probably from running with it, but nothing that would require much attention. Zack stopped short just in front of Cloud, bending over to catch his breath before standing up to stick out his hand.
"Zack Fair, bass guitar, the occasional cowbell, and backup vocals, pleasure to make your acquaintance, now super quick could you do me a favor and tell the black haired guy in glasses that is most likely right behind me that you're new and therefore need his help, um, being aware of emergency medical protocols. Just make something up. Please it's a matter of life and death." Cloud stood, quietly stunned for several seconds before shaking the man's hand.
"Cloud Strife, coffee boy, nice to meet you. Why don't you want to talk to him though?
"He's totally sadist when it comes to patching me up, man. I just need to rinse it off and throw a Band-Aid on it, but he'll drown it in rubbing alcohol and insist that he do it again in another hour. He's in charge of first aid and emergency stuff, but he's evil!"
"I'm standing right here, Zack. You know it's rude to call people evil behind their back." Cloud jumped right into action with getting Zack out of his dilemma. Cloud hated nothing more than going to the doctor, so he could understand.
"Sir, I'm new here and I think it's important that all members of the crew to be aware of what to do in case of a medical emergency, could you show tell me where all the first aid stations are in this specific arena?"
"Nice try, Strife. He's tried that one before." The teen shot the bassist an apologetic look, but he was busy glancing behind them at a pretty girl in a light blue dress. She rolled her eyes, obviously already knowing the situation.
"Hojo, it's alright. I'll take care of him this time," she said patting Zack on the shoulder. "I don't think we've met yet, Cloud. I'm Aeris." Do people on huge shows like this always know each other's names? Cloud pondered to himself. As if to answer his internal question, Aeris pulled out a clipboard and checked Cloud's name off a list. "You're going to be on Van Three with Jesse, Reno, Rude, and Elena. It's the security van, so there are some pretty strong personalities, I hope you'll be able to put up with their drama.
"Oh, yeah. Sure." The woman's calming demeanor was already affecting Cloud, clearing his head and leaving him entirely at ease. "I can put up with pretty much anything."
"Great! I had a feeling that you'd be easy to work with. This one sure isn't," she gestured to Zack who was now sitting on the ground, poking the scrape on his knee. "Zack, stop touching it or I'm going to have to put the alcohol on it," she mentioned looking at him with a slightly dismayed expression, this had very obviously happened before.
Cloud glanced at his watch, his mind wandering from the situation at hand, if he took the highway he could probably get the doughnuts in half an hour, but he still needed to go get money from Cid, who'd probably make him do something else before he went. Consumed in his thoughts, Cloud failed to notice the rest of the quiet bickering going on between Zack and Aeris. Hojo had slipped away to do whatever he needed to do, and the rest of the lights and sound crew was busy shuffling around, setting up the stage for the night's show. The stadium was practically silent except for the echoing steps of the occasional stage hand and Zack and Aeris's arguing, which was slowly devolving into flirtatious banter.
Cloud was about to announce his departure, when two very recognizable men came through the front door, obviously in some form of heated debate.
"You've got to be kidding me, Genesis, my solo has to stay. It's the best part of the song, if we leave it out, we might as well just not play the song at all. Take out one of your shitty ballads if you're worried about time."
"The fans love acoustic sets, it makes the concert more intimate."
"We all know how intimate you like to get with the fans Gen, you don't need to elaborate," Zack burst in, probably attempting to dispel the threatening aura that the silver-haired guitarist was exuding. "Seph, Genesis, this is Cloud. He's new."
Cloud tried futilely to disguise the fact that he was having trouble breathing as Genesis reached out a hand to take his own. "Very nice to meet you, Cloud. What a beautiful name…" Genesis purred as he brought the younger man's hand near to his lips. Cloud blushed from the sudden proximity to the famous stranger, but his attention was fixated beyond. Genesis was a notorious playboy in every meaning of the word, and he was as indiscriminant as any could get when it came to sexuality.
Behind him, Sephiroth scoffed, "Great, another groupie to make your head even bigger than it already is." He hardly even glanced at Cloud, other than to cast an irritated glare at him and Genesis before he stormed back down the hall.