Warning: Shorter monologue. Shorter chapter. Some "humor" may be offensive and/or bad.
Chapter 4: It's Like a Heat Wave!
The concept of progress presupposes an intended outcome.
These outcomes are usually ones of happiness, fulfillment, and success. For instance, to gauge a person's progress in life is to ask them how happy they are or how successful they think they are. If they intend to live a happy life, but they're about to step off the Empire State Building and onto clueless pedestrians; then their progress in life probably isn't doing too well.
My intended outcome is to be important.
My progress is undetermined.
-Cloud Strife
"What's your name?"
"Cloud."
"Cloud? Like the things in the sky?"
"Only the dark and depressed ones."
Barrett's Seventh Heaven, a daytime coffee shop and nighttime bar, took refuge in a small compact building in the midst of the busy industrial area of Helena, Montana. To deem the placement unfit would be arguable since they find more commerce from hard-working businessmen preparing for their day—and drowning out their day—than any other coffee shop in the area. Cloud liked to believe it resulted from Barrett threatening each and every CEO into some kind of contractual submission as that would have been a more noteworthy story. However, according to critics and customers alike, they actually provide high quality service.
If only payday was as high quality…Barrett was so tight with his money and firm with orders, Cloud almost felt as if he were working in a cheap Korean shoe factory under the strict, personal supervision of Kim Jong-un.
Cloud didn't have much else to do before his shift ended besides clean the tables and keep the owner's daughter, Marlene, company. Much to his dismay, the girl was six, too curious for anyone's good, and hell-bent on destroying his peaceful Saturday morning.
"You aren't dark!" She argued, naively calling attention to his freakishly pale skin.
"That's why I make coffee and not food." He replied dryly, wiping the crumb remains from the last table away. His quip flew over her limited understanding before she bombarded him with more inane questions.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
Cloud returned to his post behind the bar and began to organize the station in mindless action. Marlene sat upon the tall stools in front of him, dangling her legs over the seat.
"No."
"I can be your girlfriend!" She chimed in a sing-song voice, a toothy grin following the declaration.
"No."
"Why not?" Marlene whined. Her grin dropped to a pout and her arms crossed her chest in defiance.
"Because you're young and you should find someone your own age." Perhaps telling his boss's six year old daughter to seek out a romantic relationship wasn't his brightest moment, but it got her to drop the subject.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty."
"Then why don't you have a girlfriend?" The subject has resurrected.
"Not interested."
Marlene gasped dramatically before whispering, "So Daddy was right?"
Cloud rose a brow at the question, wondering just what nonsense that titan of a man had told his gullible daughter. "Right about what?"
However, instead of giving him a decent answer, she opted to lean back, twiddle her thumbs, and with a nervous giggle, she sang, "Nothi~ing."
Before he questioned her again, a loud, baritone of a voice erupted through the air.
"I ain't payin' you extra, Strife! Your shift's over! Get on!" Barrett nearly shouted from the back doorway, his massive build blocking the entrance completely and his massive voice rattling Cloud's eardrums. Thankfully, there were only two customers in the vicinity, but Cloud made a mental note to call Tifa to see if she heard it from Arizona.
Cloud wasted no time in collecting his things, which were his jacket and phone, before giving a half-ass salute at his waiting boss.
Said boss, Barrett, took on the human persona of a Milky Way candy bar. Now, this statement wasn't meant to be taken in the context of a racial dictation simply because of the color of his skin. Cloud, rather than focusing on color, aimed to compare textures in a combination of the metaphorical and literal sense. In other words, like a Milky Way candy bar, Barret was tough on the outside and soft on the inside. As cliché as it sounds, it was the best description Cloud could think of at the moment.
But he was anything other than sweet, at least to Cloud. As far as his daughter was concerned, there seemed to be nothing he refused to give her. Like all fathers that love their children, Barrett proved guilty of doting on her and excessively spoiling her. He told Cloud once the day he adopted her, it was the day he could never love another woman again. Deep down—way deep down to inner sanctum core of his pinky toe—Cloud almost wished he could be reminded of having a father as caring as Barrett. But it just reminded him of the disappointing failure his own father turned out to be.
Shaking those haunting thoughts from his head, he waved a lazy hand over his shoulder before stepping out into the pleasantly cool environment of scrambling pedestrians and cringe-worthy promotional billboards.
According to the weather channel, Montana was going through a surprise heat wave in the middle of October. Usually when Cloud hears the term "heat wave", he imagines the suffocating and unbearable heat Arizona would usually have during its hormonal stages of temperature. He also reminisces of that god awful, cancer-inducing song by Martha Reeves & the Vandellas, but that's beside the point. The point is: Montana was actually bearably cool that day. It was so bearable that he decided to take a mindless stroll through the downtown area of the city, soaking in the much needed rays of the sun.
Perhaps Cloud should take back his bitter arguments against global warming and instead welcome it with open, thawed out arms. He didn't necessarily strive for fresh air nor did he particularly enjoy the outdoors, but he had the choice of breathing in the rare, warm Montana breeze or inhaling asbestos from his corroding apartment walls. He decided the former option would better benefit this uncommon, but nice phenomenon.
With his coat hanging loosely on his shoulders and his eyes scouting the expansive area with internal criticism, he strolled along the moderately cluttered sidewalk with ease. He ignored the curious, intrigued looks from female—and even some male—passerby and continued his mindless journey as he listened occasionally to nearby conversations and the soft taps of feet against the pavement.
His exploration continued peacefully until a flash of bright red caught his attention in his peripheral vision. Cloud halted to a complete stop to peer suspiciously across the street at the familiar figures. They were crouched low on the ground against the brick wall of Men's Warehouse below the expanse of windows, exchanging conversation. He briefly wondered how much pity money they gathered from misinformed strangers thinking they were homeless. It wasn't too much of an imaginative stretch. Statistically, the population of homeless citizens has been on a steady rise in the state of Montana. It must be the heat wave.
Curious and albeit amused, Cloud crossed the street with little caution and approached the duo with a question.
"Has Kadaj run you out of your home already?"
Reno and Yuffie's heads snapped up at him, apparently caught off guard by his arrival. Yuffie let out a squeak before clutching onto Cloud's coat and yanking him with surprising strength down to their level. Cloud yelped in surprise before casting a glance around them, searching if any passerby assumed he was being mugged.
Not a second look was given as they passed.
How hospitable…
"What are you doing here, Cloud?" Yuffie half-whispered and half-spoke. The inner battle between the two must have been a tough one.
"I work nearby." His annoyance at being manhandled leaked through his words, but didn't hold his attention for long as he raised awareness to an alarming observation, "Why are you sitting on the ground?"
"We're hiding."
With a scoping look at the strolling strangers, Cloud remarked, "You aren't doing a very good job."
"Not from them! From the inside!" Yuffie clarified and made a show to lift up slightly and peek through the above window. She immediately pulled away.
"Why?" He wanted to laugh, but he figured it could wait until he knew the whole story.
"I fucked up." Reno joined in.
Yuffie huffed. "Reno accidentally stole something from someone and…" She trailed off, gesturing to their current predicament.
It was like a train wreck, he just couldn't walk away from it, so he continued to feed his curiosity, "Who?"
"We'll tell you everything if you help us."
He was not that curious.
Cloud ripped himself from Yuffie's grasp and began to stand. "Oh no. Never again."
Last time it ended with a pedophilic version of Nightmare on Elm Street and Cloud was the unlucky blond character that fell for every trick in the book.
But once he was back on his feet, facing the windows and accidentally peeking inside, he saw it. He saw why they were crouched below like homeless, starving chumps and he saw what lurked on the other side. As if someone shot out his kneecaps, he abruptly dropped back down with murderous intent.
"What the hell did you steal from Sephiroth?!"
After a string of shushes and guilty cringes, Reno pulled out a familiar looking card from his coat pocket and thrusted it into Cloud's vision.
Sephiroth Crescent
You are formally invited to:
Helena Art Exhibit
If it weren't for the printed name at the top, Cloud would have assumed it was his own invitation. What are the odds Sephiroth was invited too, he mused. Now that he thought about it, the coincidence was terribly suspicious, but he failed to reign in the reason as to why yet.
"I had my interview earlier today and he had to step out before it started. Business reasons." Reno explained in his usual carefree tone, but there was still an edge of anxiety laced in his words. "I saw this on his desk sticking out from a folder and picked it up because I recognized it from yours. I didn't mean to steal it, but he returned before I could put it back."
Cloud asked the most obvious question. "Why didn't you just give it back to him?"
"And let him know I snooped around his things before I even had a chance to be interviewed? No thanks."
"And the better option is to stalk him?"
Reno sighed. "I panicked, told Yuffie, and she came up with a plan. Now here we are."
Cloud respected Reno. He did. But he couldn't have been that foolish. "And you went with it?"
"Hey! I have a great plan!" Yuffie argued, crossing her arms in offense.
Cloud scoffed. "Let me guess, one of you distracts him and slips the card into his coat pocket."
Reno shrugged his shoulders. "That's pretty much about it."
"Maybe he's not going and you're playing I Spy for nothing." Cloud tried to help, but it seems he was a little rusty since Reno didn't appreciate it.
"And what if he is and we've royally screwed up his life?"
Cloud snorted. "If his life is art, then there's not much hope for him anyway."
"Cloud, be serious."
The honest, terrible truth is that he was. But he sighed to please them and relented, "Fine, who's doing the slip?"
"You wanna do the honors of flipping a coin to see who the lucky winner is?" Reno offered.
Cloud knew this was going to end disastrously for them which is why, with a devilish grin, he answered, "I would love to."
Reno dug out a spare quarter from his wallet and dropped the coin into Cloud's waiting palm.
After they announced their bets, the blond flicked the coin into the air, watched it spin with sick amusement, and caught it at its downfall. He smacked the coin onto the back of his hand and, for the sake of entertainment, slowly removed his other hand to unmask the unlucky draw.
Reno silently cheered at the revelation while Yuffie whined.
"Oh, please, two out of three." She pleaded. "In plus, it wouldn't make any sense for me to be in Men's Warehouse."
"Sure it will. Make up a story." Cloud supplied, flipping the coin mindlessly.
"Cloud…" She begged, drawing out his name.
"Say you have a brother and you need help picking out a suit. Easy."
"Could I ask you for a favor?"
"Absolutely not." He returned the answer quickly, knowing full well what the favor was. He had enough Sephiroth time for one week. There was no way in hell he was going to strike up a conversation with Ego Incarnate, especially on such a nice, warm day.
"Please!" She begged again. But Cloud ignored her and handed the coin back to Reno.
Reno, who apparently didn't understand the meaning of the term "Bro Code".
"You know, it would probably be more effective if you were to do it, Cloud." He conceded and continued to betray the blond as he explained, "I mean, it would be suspicious if I were to do it since I was just with him a couple of hours ago. And Yuffie, well, she isn't a good liar under pressure and Professor Crescent is the living definition of the word intimidation."
"And I'm the living definition of the word 'no', so good luck." Cloud attempted to stand again, but his action was thwarted by Yuffie who, once again, pulled him back with a deadly serious look on her face.
"I'll pay you."
Cloud narrowed his eyes at the girl's proposal. He did need all the help he could get with the rent, not to mention groceries and supplies for school. Money is everyone's weakness. He cursed himself inwardly for even thinking this through and outwardly for asking, "Dammit. How much?"
Her round face brightened at his question. "What's your price?"
"Hundred."
"Done." She agreed as fast as he made his demand which almost made his jaw drop.
"Seriously?" They couldn't have been that desperate to avoid the man. Sure, he was intimidating as hell and daunting to talk to, but—whatever. He was getting paid. Perhaps he should quit his job and become the official spokesperson of Lord Sephiroth.
"I would have gone for two hundred." Reno stated and slipped the invitation into Cloud's hands.
"Good luck." Yuffie wished him as he lifted himself from his crouching position…again. Who needs a workout regimen if you have two dimwits as friends? Cloud briefly blanked at the word 'friends' and shook it off as a mere slip of the mind before he dropped the card into his pocket, pulled open the entrance door, and strolled inside.
Sephiroth was in the far right corner, dressed in a casual attire of dark jeans and a long sleeved button down shirt. His overcoat dangled across his right arm as he sifted through a set of solidly colored ties with a look of severe concentration on his face. Silver hair ran across his back like smooth silk and, for a second, Cloud stopped mid-step in amazement. Leave it to Sephiroth to still look godly while doing the most mundane of tasks.
Once out of his momentary stupor, Cloud made sure to keep his distance and act interested in a displayed business suit towards the front of the store. It covered a mannequin's physique from head to toe in intricate, organic designs that reminded Cloud of those cheap Lisa Frank coloring books. It had to have been made from the individually plucked hairs of unicorns weaved with the remains of Jesus' shawl because it costed more than Cloud's tuition plus his debt. Rich people, he thought bitterly.
"Welcome! Are you looking for something in particular?" His fake interest apparently caught the eye of one of the store clerks as the chubby figure approached him. He was surprisingly shorter than Cloud, but his width made up for what he lacked in height.
"Just looking."
"Oh, okay! Well, my name is Wedge. Let me know if you need anything." He was gone before Cloud had a chance to respond. It wasn't like he was going to respond anyway. If there was one thing retail workers should get accustomed to, it's unpleasant people.
The blond cast another glance toward the tie section and immediately regretted it. Sephiroth was walking towards him, a few black and grey ties in tow, with his attention solely on the lingering student.
"Have you acquired a sudden fascination with suits now?" Sephiroth greeted him with a small quirk to his lips and playful tinge to his eyes. Now closer, Cloud could see that the man's buttoned shirt wasn't being used to its full potential as the first few buttons were undone, revealing a milky expanse of a seemingly toned chest.
"Have you developed a grudge against buttons?" He retorted, looking up at the towering figure. He never realized how tall he was…
"No. Would you prefer me without them?" His deep, caressing tone didn't help with the way he worded his question. In fact, it sounded downright dirty. Cloud felt his skin warm and he cursed every religious entity for making him blush at any sign of flirtation. It was like he walked straight out of a cliché Japanese anime—A.K.A.: it was biologically ridiculous.
"Nope. I like your buttons." If Sephiroth was expecting a grade-A response that only Harvard intellectuals would have the ability to give, he was shit out of luck because Cloud was in a temporary state of being pathetic.
The man chuckled at the obvious lack of creativity. "That's good to know. Are you in the midst of sight-seeing?"
Cloud was beginning to wonder if the innuendoes were intentional or if his mind was forever imprisoned in a gutter.
"I work down the street and my shift just ended. I decided to enjoy the warmth and maybe do some random shopping." Most of it was true.
Sephiroth eyed the mannequin Cloud was staring at earlier before stating, "You're definition of random shopping is…expensive."
Cloud snorted at the understatement and at the notion that Sephiroth Crescent, the man who had five hundred dollars' worth of ties on his arm, just accused him of overspending. "I think you mean ambitious. I'd have to sell my spleen on the black market to even touch a thread." Not to mention cross his heart and speak…how many Hail Marys?
Sephiroth rose a brow at the remark. Cloud gestured to the handful of ties and shifted the attention away from himself. "So, are you picking out next week's lucky contenders?"
"Just one." Sephiroth tapped the solid black one with a finger, his gaze briefly leaving Cloud's face in the process.
"What a rebel."
"I'll let you know when I purchase my motorcycle." Sephiroth replied dryly. His sarcasm was appreciated though as Cloud rocked on his feet with a playful smirk tilting his lips.
"Starting your mid-life crisis early then?"
"It's better to overcome it than ignore it."
Cloud grinned. "I heard movies weren't allowed."
"It's a strict historical documentary diet." Sephiroth remarked, watching the other with growing amusement as Cloud chuckled.
"Make sure it's the really cheap, disregarded ones no one cares about."
"Like women's suffrage in 19th century literature?"
For the second time that day, Cloud erupted into a bubbling laughter. Perhaps he should invite Professor Davis, he thought.
Sephiroth's lips curved into a pleased smirk and let his eyes wander Cloud's face in consideration, as if he were contemplating a thought that raged war inside his mind. Cloud was experiencing a similar dilemma, one that focused on how he was supposed to slip the invitation into Sephiroth's coat without him noticing. He figured a manly hug was off the table—or just any type of intimacy in general—because Cloud was a strong promoter of personal space, especially around unapproachable men with long silver hair and strange green eyes.
Since Cloud has only experienced the accompaniment of a suit and tie twice in his life, he asked lamely, "Are you going to try it on?"
Sephiroth cocked his head to the side, entertained by the naivety of the question. "Just the tie?"
"Yes." Cloud answered before the second implication of Sephiroth's words hit him. "I mean, with a suit of course."
"Of course." He was laughing at him behind that smug, carefully developed expression. He wondered how long it took to perfect that look in front of the mirror. "But I've bought this brand and size before, so there's no need to worry."
"I wasn't worried." Maybe he could salvage some of his pathetic remains of masculinity before he moved on to Plan B. He wasn't sure what exactly Plan B involved, but it had to be better than acting like a nagging housewife.
Before Sephiroth could reply, a shrill ringtone interrupted, bringing their conversation to a momentary halt. Cloud didn't mind the intrusion, in fact, he welcomed it as it gave him more time to think of Plan B. However, the ringtone in question, was most definitely questionable as he distinctly remembered on hearing that specific one when he was a toddler.
As if he were thrown back to the embarrassing days of Pokémon, Cloud saw Sephiroth pull out a Nokia from his pocket and proceed to answer the incoming call. The conversation lasted long enough for Cloud to step back and take a long look at his surroundings, hoping to appear disengaged from whatever discussion was being held. He mindlessly tinkered with a hanging bow tie as he listened in.
"No. It should be in the office." Sephiroth spoke lowly, but Cloud was still close enough to hear him clearly. However, given he wasn't a visually crippled superhero, his hearing failed to be exceptional enough to pick up the other end. But he could make an assumption that something went wrong.
"I'll be there shortly, but you'll have to run a pick-up. No. I placed it in the file."
Cloud's head snapped up. Didn't Reno say—?
"I'll find it." Shit. Cloud couldn't help his jaw drop at the stern declaration and the implication behind it. His gaze was met with watching green eyes that narrowed at whatever expression Cloud couldn't mask in time. He prayed it wasn't guilt. "I might be late." With those final words, Sephiroth ended the call.
Cloud felt his unwavering attention coming down on him like a heavy boulder of scrutiny. Desperate to call off the unnecessary stare down, he responded nervously, "You know, technology is an external evolution of mankind." With a quick look at the outdated phone in Sephiroth's hand, he added, "Darwin would be disappointed."
The quip didn't change Sephiroth's searching expression, nor did it garner a response. "Wedge." He raised his voice, summoning the meek worker like a slave. He handed the ties over and ordered, "Put these on hold for me until Wednesday."
"Yes, sir."
"Mr. Fair will pick them up."
"Yes, sir."
"I would like the black noir to be dry cleaned before then."
"Yes, sir."
Cloud watched the back and forth scene of submission in relief. Those piercing, strange eyes found another target. Wedge, as if his ass was on fire, hurriedly fumbled in collecting the clothing and obediently followed the strict orders Sephiroth began to list for him. He wondered if Wedge submitted due to his job as a retail worker or because Sephiroth scared the living daylights out of him. Cloud wouldn't hesitate to choose the latter.
"Has your random shopping pit-stop run its course?"
Cloud blinked out of his thoughts once he realized the question was directed towards him.
"Yes, sir."
Maybe it wasn't the best time to be a smartass, but time doesn't wait for anyone. Cloud knew Sephiroth's mood had changed for the worse since the call, and he also knew his tendency for being an asshole would likely make it worse. But he was determined to at least distract the man, for better or for worse.
He was also determined to finish this fucked up delivery service that was lasting longer than he thought it would.
Cloud followed behind Sephiroth through the doors, hoping Reno and Yuffie were gone from sight. One surprise was efficient enough for the day. He passed the threshold and glanced to his left, spotting two figures duck into the nearest alley.
Sephiroth slipped the coat over his broad shoulders in one swift movement before he turned to face the blond in commendable lighting. The sunlight illuminated his flawless, porcelain features in a way that made the statue of David look like a Gerber's baby. Ethereal green flashed in a flurry of shining silver against the bearing down rays of the sun as the platinum strands from his bangs swayed nicely around his carefully sculpted face—
Cloud was staring.
A skeptical look in his eyes drew Cloud out of his momentary—somewhat embarrassing—train of thought.
"What?"
Sephiroth crossed his arms and held onto his closed off expression as he replied, "It's nothing." With another quick pass over Cloud's face, he spoke, "I have some business to attend to, so it seems our conversation about updated technology will have to wait."
The joke was there; although, it didn't reach his tone. But Cloud had other issues to worry about besides the ever-changing mood of Sephiroth. Mainly, the issue of the man about to walk away without the invitation in his pocket.
"W-wait!" Cloud reached out in an attempt to stop him and held lightly onto his arm. Green eyes flickered to the contact then back up to blue, no doubt questioning his sanity. Cloud immediately let go and spouted out the first sentence that came to mind, "I have a question…about investigative journalism."
There were two things wrong with that statement. One, even if Cloud had a question prepared, there was no way he could slip the card onto Sephiroth's person without him noticing. And two, it was so obviously bullshit that a brain-dead, liberal donkey with cataracts and a rubber nose could sense it from a mile away.
A silver brow rose in detection of the lie. "As much as I would love to see you scramble for one, I'm regrettably in a hurry."
Cloud caught his arm again, this time his hand stayed. For a brief—extremely microscopic slip of a second Cloud noted the hard edge of muscle beneath the cloth. He immediately threw that observation out the window and hopefully into a burning pile of amnesiac-inducing trash.
Cloud, still panicking, had another idea. It was a stupidly, rash idea that only belonged in the show 1000 Ways to Die. Such an idea should be banned from every state, country, and continent. Out of all the ideas he had stored away in case of emergencies, he chose this one.
In a quick haste, he caught Sephiroth by the collar of his coat—accidentally catching a few strands of hair—and pulled him forward. The last expression Cloud saw was genuine bewilderment before he reached up on his toes to bring their lips together in a crushing kiss.
Sephiroth's lips were soft, as soft as the hair Cloud currently had between his fingers. It was a nice contrast to the sharp, closed kiss they were partaking in. For a brief quarter of a second, Cloud felt a returning pressure move against his own mouth. But he didn't have time to think about that. He used the distraction to drop his hand from Sephiroth's collar, reach in his own pocket to retrieve the invitation, and swiftly drop it into the other man's coat. During that time, Sephiroth's hands lifted to cradle Cloud's face gently before he drew away.
And it was at that moment, as Sephiroth peered down at him with utter sympathy looming in the mystic green, Cloud realized he royally fucked up.
"Cloud…" He heard him say softly with blatant empathy. His thumb caressing the flushed smooth skin, as if trying to console the blond from the rejection. "You're my student…"
Hesitantly, Sephiroth's gentle fingers dropped from Cloud's betraying cheeks and he stepped back. Cloud blinked, trying to sift through the self-inflicting insults and questions in order to find a reasonable solution to the mess he had created.
He found one.
"Um…sorry." With those mumbled words, he brushed past the looming, pitying figure and towards nowhere in particular. He didn't look back as he steadily increased the distance in utter confusion.
The confusion did not stem from the outcome.
The rejection was expected. Considering other stories students had passed during class, he knew Sephiroth would refuse any type of romantic affection. So that failure didn't bother him. He knew the rules, he accepted the rules, and he followed the rules because his interests were laid elsewhere.
Except until today.
Cloud broke the rules. And he didn't know why. Why, out of all the options and routes he could have taken, did he take that road? It wasn't as if he liked Sephiroth in that way. Absolutely not. Sure, he was undeniably attractive, but Cloud prided himself on his aversion from romantic relationships and crushes in an attempt to be different. He despised the thought of being included in Sephiroth's hormonal fan club. But he fucked it up because now Sephiroth probably thinks he's just another lovesick puppy in heat.
Cloud sneered at the thought. Who cares what he thinks, he tried to convince himself but a tightening pressure only squeezed out more questions and worries.
He refused to question himself anymore, and he certainly didn't want to worry about what Sephiroth thought of him. To assume someone as important as Sephiroth Crescent would spend a second even thinking about someone so insignificant like Cloud was laughable.
You're my student, Cloud reminded himself of those words. He replayed them over and over like a religious mantra. That's right. He was a student. There was no place for him in any professional world, especially on the same level as Sephiroth. He was beneath him on the Totem Pole of Life and he would remain that way.
Unless you take action, something told him. But he merely scoffed. A voice of encouragement was the last thing he needed now, so he brushed the thought aside in hopes for a better one.
He needed a distraction.
As if God was also taking pity on him and perhaps apologizing for all the awful shit he has been doing lately, his wish was answered…in a bittersweet way.
"Cloud!" He almost groaned at the ringing voice coming from behind him. Reluctantly, he slowed to a stopped and turned on his heels to find Reno and Yuffie approaching him. If his mind wasn't still so clouded with thoughts of impending depression, he would have seen the cautious way they stepped towards him.
"Hey, buddy." Reno greeted in a half-nervous, half-chipper way. That was all it took for Cloud to realize they saw what happened.
"Jesus Christ." He muttered and held out his hand in a demand, "Where's my money?"
Yuffie perked up at the reminder and unhooked her wallet from her belt loop. Pulling out Benjamin Franklin's face, she thanked him, "Thank you, Cloud! You really helped us out and we appreciate it—"
Cloud snatched the dollar bill from her offering hand. "Don't get used to it."
Before he could turn to leave—because this was not the distraction he had in mind—Reno stopped him.
"Hey, Cloud." Reno spoke, his dark emerald eyes holding an unspoken trust to them as he told him, "Thanks."
Cloud gave a nod, somehow unable to respond crassly. He then paused in thought, contemplating on if he should share the information he eavesdropped on. With a sharp thought of 'who cares' he revealed, "And by the way, it seems like whatever plans Sephiroth has at the exhibit is for business purposes. I overheard a phone call of his."
"Business purposes? Like journalistic?"
The blond shrugged. "Guess so."
"You think he's there because of Kadaj?" Yuffie expressed, horror written over her features at the thought of being next door neighbors to a future headlined serial killer.
"I wouldn't jump to conclusions." Cloud warned, knowing if that were to happen another plan would be set in stone and they somehow always manage to bring him in the middle of it. Each time, however, it seems to get worse.
"Well," Reno started, "it isn't a very far conclusion to jump to, Cloud."
Cloud casted a glare. "Yes, it is. For all we know, Kadaj is a lowly artist trying to make a living. What good would writing about someone as unimportant as him do the CEO of the largest media company in the world?"
"Maybe there's a bigger picture." Reno suggested to which Cloud gave a dubious look. "And you know damn well there's something off about the guy."
"I never said he didn't have issues." They could at least agree on something. "It's just a far-fetched idea."
"But it isn't impossible."
Yuffie decided to chime in to the conversation. "We can always investigate..."
"No." Cloud sent her a stern glower. "I'm not getting involved in any more of your so-called plans."
"But, Cloud, you're the only one of us that has an invitation." She prodded.
"We aren't journalists. We're students." He argued but he could already tell an idea had sparked and she would do everything to put it into action. "We should stick to learning."
"And what better way to learn about the field than to immerse yourself in it?"
"I meant in a classroom away from potential Ted Bundys." He snidely retorted, but he was too late. She was almost as stubborn as him, if not more.
"So you'd rather sit around listening to Professor Crescent's incredible stories than make one yourself?"
He would rather play Twister on a spiked floor with the actual Ted Bundy than be in the same room with Sephiroth at the moment. But that was at the moment. Come Thursday, his opinions might change.
"I don't know what incredible story you're expecting, but I'm sure it will end with me regretting it…again. So, no."
Reno snorted beside her. At least someone found humor in the worst of times.
"Cloud, man," The red-head said, "It can't get any worse."
Famous last words.
"I beg to differ." He muttered and then with a sigh, "Why can't one of you take the invitation and do it yourself?"
"He knows me." Yuffie said. "And Reno, well, I think people would know if he were invited or not."
Of course. There's always an excuse. There's always a reason that ultimately boils down to Cloud trekking on these ridiculous quests. And there's always the consequences that come with it, so it was a wonder—perhaps the eighth wonder of the world—on why he asked his next question.
"Hypothetically, if I were to go, what would I get in return?" It might have been a selfish question, but his dignity and self-respect were on the line; so fuck decency. "And if you say shit like friendship or an 'incredible story', then I'm out."
"How about money?" Yuffie suggested and Cloud wasn't displeased by it either.
Like last time, "How much?"
"Two hundred."
The price could be altered given the absurd obstacles he would likely face, Cloud determined to himself, considering the proposal in silence. He could already predict Sephiroth was going to be a problem, not to mention Kadaj. Join the two together in the same room, it's a recipe for disaster and a long overdue mental breakdown.
"Four hundred." Again, fuck decency.
With a quick approving glance shared with Reno, Yuffie grinned in satisfaction.
"Deal."
Author's Note: I feel like this was more like a filler than anything, so I apologize. I was going to put the exhibit in this chapter, but I realized I had to motivate Cloud to actually want to go. And by the time he agreed, I was 6,000 words in and it was 3AM. Cheers to stubborn characters with self-worth issues!