Cloud plopped himself on his couch after Vincent left. Within an hour, his life turned into a direction that threatened to crash and burn. A girl whom he once admired and another who had been a close friend since childhood were in the mercy of a devious man who he ran into a few years back.

Running a hand through his hair, many questions filled his mind; Why wasn't he the one notified about this? Could he honestly allow men to do to him what they tend to do to prostitutes?

If it meant saving two people who mean a lot to me, then yes.

Easier said than done, I know.

One question that remained in his mind - How did Vincent get caught up in all of this?

"He must've gotten closer to them after I drew myself away from everyone," Cloud muttered to himself, "Shit, it should've been me doing the dirty deeds for that fat son of a bitch, not Vincent. I have to find him before the shit really hits the fan, despite what he told me."

With that being said, Cloud rose up from the couch, grabbed his jacket, making his way towards the front door. Along the side yard was a grey sheet and tall grass covering something he thought he would never use again. Grabbing the sheet, he sighed as he pulled the dusty cover off of his old prized possession, his motorcycle.

Tossing the sheet aside, Cloud grasped the grips, threw a leg over the bike, and started to rev the engine. Granted, he never rode his bike, but a nagging feeling in his mind told him to keep it in tip top shape, checking liquids, making sure the black color still had its shine. Everything except for riding it. Once the engine roared to life, Cloud thanked the high Heaven's that his bike didn't die on him.

"God, it feels good to be back on you again," he whispered, pulling out a pair of goggles from a small glove department underneath the speedometer, placing them snuggly over his eyes.

As he pulled the guard up and started to drive off, Cloud silently hoped there was still time for him to reach Vincent and the girls before the real festivities began.