Author's Note: Cloud comes to. Some interesting tidbits of information along with a nice cameo from a certain potty-mouthed pilot.
CHAPTER 9: Hangover
Somewhere in a short distance, an electronic beat played while a man spoke. He rambled on about conspiracy theories, colossal-sized creatures, starry-eyed men, zombies, and aliens from outer space. It had all the synopsis of a low-budget horror film. Still, the man sounded serious. In his low-pitched even tone, he spoke his words slowly and with great care. It was the truth he claimed to speak; it was the truth that had been buried under years of deceit and corruption. It now demanded exposure.
"…According to my sources, a highly esteemed scientist from Shinra's Science Department had led the excavation team and returned with a specimen that fell from the sky thousands of years ago. Official records declare this scientist had passed away due to 'heart failure'."
A snicker was soon heard, followed by a lively amused voice.
"Fu, fu! I suppose several gunshots to the chest by undercover operatives could be considered a 'heart failure'. But I digress, faithful listeners. I have no doubt his death was the result of a massive cover-up led by this ruthless corporation. Despite President Shinra's insistence that no such creature had ever been recovered, my sources indicate otherwise. In fact, this specimen has been at the center of many controversial projects from past to present. In time, we will dig out the truth. There are just some secrets that cannot stay buried for long.
"Until that day comes, I am urging you, my brothers and sisters, to flood the streets and shake the foundation of Shinra Electric Power Company with your voices. And pray for our Planet. Blessed be the precious vessel whose blood runs dry on account of the sins of mortal men. This is AVALANCHE, the faithful and many, signing off."
A cheesy soundtrack composed of metal pipes and strings played loudly and out-of-pitch. As this music played, one weary ice-blue eye halfway opened.
Cloud produced a low, throaty moan. Lying on his stomach, a bent arm sprawled over his head at a ridiculous angle while his left cheek had sunken deep against a soft pillow. He rested on a ragged couch that squeaked loudly when he tried to move.
The first thing that hit Cloud as he became semi-aware was a pounding headache followed by a strong thirst. He took a dry swallow and shifted to his backside. Bones cracked and tiny stings of pain flared along the path of his spine. He hissed.
"H-hey, careful, Cloud…"
Through half-slit eyes, Cloud slowly tilted his head to the direction of the female's voice. It came from around the corner of the couch. He rolled to his side and found a familiar face. With an easy smile, Jessie stood next to Cloud with arms wrapped around her waist.
Jessie's thick brown hair was pulled back into pony tail as usual, but a red bandanna now kept the bangs secured. She wore heavy-duty boots with faded leathery skin and a dark navy overall uniform. It was zipped to her neck while the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. A utility belt hung loosely around her slender waist. Each time she moved her tools jingled. Cloud wrinkled his nose. He could smell the scent of oil on her. There were smudges of black grease over her face and uniform.
"H-how do you f-feel?" Jessie asked.
Cloud took a deep swallow. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper. "I feel like crap."
"I bet." Jessie softly chuckled. "Y-you, uh, drank a lot last night."
"Remind me never to do that again…" Cloud massaged his temples.
"Definitely noted."
Cloud started to relax after coming to his full senses. Soon observing his current surroundings, he realized this wasn't his place. There were rolls of blueprints, metal tools, and mechanical objects piled on wooden tables and shelves everywhere. A computer station occupied a corner. It was the source of the cheesy music that continued to play in the background.
"Where am I…?" Cloud slowly asked.
"M-my place," Jessie answered back and fidgeted nonstop with her utility belt. "Sorry, but you never told me where you lived. You passed out so I had to take you here."
The walls of the living space were painted a soft pink color and littered with posters of adorable Chocobos. One poster displayed a giant Chocobo trying to fly. The words, 'Never Give Up, Silly Bird,' appeared under it. Cloud inwardly scoffed at the cheesiness of it. Then he checked the small group of broken television screens and radios. They were likely Jessie's personal pet projects. Cloud's brow rose when there was a large engine part among the stash. He moved a bit from the couch to get a better look of it until something squeaked in a high-pitch sound. Cloud looked down. A few Moogle plushies had apparently accompanied him on the couch. One squeaked again when he accidentally shifted his arm.
"S-Sorry about that, Cloud. I forgot those were there." Jessie nervously chuckled and quickly gathered the plushies. She dumped them into a nearby make-shift closet. To herself, she whispered, "I'm such a stupid corndog. Stupid, stupid, stupid…"
Cloud overheard her and tried not to laugh at her choice of words. His eyes later took in the rest of the apartment. It was a strange place, he thought. It had all the struggle of two personalities at odds with each other: one cute and one serious. Glimpses of femininity clashed with the rust of metal parts.
"N-need some water?" Jessie's voice reached him again; small and unsure.
Cloud nodded. The pipes in Jessie's kitchen rattled when she turned on a nearby faucet with a glass in hand. Carefully, Cloud sat up on the couch and waited for his drink.
His body ached everywhere. Face. Arms. Back. When he pressed a finger against his lower lip the tender skin immediately stung. It had been treated with an ointment. Cloud could taste the honey-dew flavor of applied medicine while he felt a thick layer of crust on his bottom lip. Stings of pain shot up his spine again when he shifted his weight on the couch. He discovered packed bandages over his back wounds. His bicep was currently wrapped by a cloth too. Lifting the cotton sheet, Cloud decided to assess the rest of his body's condition. He quickly frowned. Looking down, Cloud realized he'd been stripped to his boxers. He shot Jessie a look.
"I-I'm sorry," Jessie started when she came back with his glass of water. Her face turned to a shade of red. It almost matched the bandanna she wore. After a long awkward silence, she made a weird motion with her free hand and explained, "Y-you were wet from the rain and bleeding everywhere. I-I had to remove your clothes and f-fix you up."
The hand that still held the glass of water trembled. Drops of water spilled onto the wooden chipped floor. Sitting up with his entire chest exposed and one knee raised, Cloud stared at Jessie in silence. He took no offense and mentally accepted her reasons. However, the mischievous boy in him enjoyed watching the poor girl squirm for a moment longer. Jessie looked ready to explode. It was hilarious. Cloud nodded back to her though. He formed a small smile at the corner on his lips to reassure her everything was fine.
It wasn't right to be a prick to her like that. Cloud already knew she had a serious crush on him. He also knew from personal experience what it felt like when a crush shitted all over those sensitive feelings or, worse, didn't notice them.
Tifa…
Jessie visibly swallowed hard and finally handed him his glass of water with a shaky hand. Afterward, she idly touched a tool in her utility belt. It didn't take long for Cloud to finish his glass. His mouth was so dry the water was gone in a matter of seconds. Jessie took that as her cue to refill it. She retrieved the glass and poured more water.
"Wh-what happened to you, by the way?" Jessie inquired from the sink area. "By the time I arrived, you were busted up and lying on the sidewalk. Did you get into a fight?"
She handed him his next glass of water. Cloud gulped down most of it in one shot. Then he contemplated over her question. Cloud sat there, stumped. He didn't remember.
Only fragments came to him here and there. There was Wedge talking about big tits. There was the black shirt Jessie gave him. A giant birthday cake. A dance with Ele'. Cloud couldn't recall the details or order of events. What troubled him most, though, was how he ended up in his current poor condition. Just like Jessie, he naturally concluded he'd gotten into a bad ruffle. The circumstances behind it remained a mystery. Amongst his drug-and-alcohol influenced memories, however, came a brief image of a figure in black. It towered over him. Frowning, Cloud wondered if this shrouded figure had something to do with what had happened last night.
"I don't remember…" Cloud finally admitted and looked at Jessie. "Hey, did I… meet anyone in black?"
"Huh?"
"Was a person in black sitting at our table last night?" Cloud specified his question.
Jessie thought a moment. Then she shook her head. "It was just the five of us at the booth. You. Me. Wedge. Biggs. And Ele'. No one else was there with us. At least, that's what I remember. I admit, I was kinda drunk too so…" Jessie's voice trailed off. Later, her eyes softened. "Hey, is everything okay?"
Cloud didn't immediately answer back. The figure in black still occupied his mind. Black veil. Hidden eyes. After a long agonizing moment, Cloud finally gave up. He sighed. "Never mind. I'm good."
Jessie looked at him.
"What time is it?" Cloud decided to change the subject. "It feels late."
"It's two in the afternoon. I'm here on my lunch break. I-I came back here to check on you." When she noticed the surprised look on Cloud's face, she explained, "S-sorry I didn't wake you earlier. You were sleeping so peacefully."
Cloud shrugged his shoulders. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. I'm off work today and my class is hours from now anyway, so it doesn't matter." He glanced at the bandages scattered across his body. "Um, thanks, by the way. Thanks for letting me crash at your place and tending to my cuts. I owe you. Sorry you have to see me like… this."
"Don't apologize. I'm just glad you're okay. It's just kinda crazy you blacked out." Jessie paused. Her cheeks flared with color again when she notified, "Oh, um… y-your clothes are o-over there."
She pointed at a lining that was strung across her large kitchen window. Unlike his place, her window offered a good view of the Slums. If such a thing could exist. From where he sat, Cloud could see an old children's playground in the distance. When he checked the lining he found all of his absent clothes. They had been hand washed and hung to dry, including his Chocobo Chow shirt. Cloud noticed his name badge missing but couldn't remember how that happened.
Setting his glass on a nearby coffee table, Cloud found his PHS there. He wondered if he had recorded any events from last night. Quickly browsing through it, Cloud found only text messages between him and Kyle. A brow rose at the mention of a black-veiled man. But there was no mention of an encounter with him. Perhaps he only thought about a black-veiled man because Kyle had talked about him. Yeah. That had to be it. The black figure must've been a figment of his imagination based on Kyle's words, Cloud concluded, and set his PHS back on the table. He removed the blanket and got to his feet.
"Last night must've been an eventful night for you," Cloud commented, a bit amused by his lack of clothes. He readjusted the waistband of his slim-fitting blue boxers.
Across him, Jessie's eyes widened at the sight of the almost-naked man. She instantly turned around to face a wall. Her cheeks blossomed red again. "I-I kept my e-eyes closed most of the t-time. I swear."
"Most of the time?" Cloud repeated with a low-sounding snicker.
There was a long stretch of silence from Jessie. She finally took a deep swallow. In a serious voice, she asked, "Th-that long scar across your stomach… What happened there?"
"An accident when I was a kid…" Cloud briefly said, refusing to go into the details. His bare feet padded across the room and reached the lining at the kitchen area. He grabbed his pants. As he slipped them on, he confessed, "You know, I really don't like being in debt to anyone, Jessie."
"D-debt?" Still staring at a wall, the car mechanic frowned at first. It took her a second to understand what he meant. Then Jessie fervently shook her head. "No, no. It's not a debt, Cloud. Y-you don't owe me for a-anything. I was happy to help."
"But. You did a lot for me…" Cloud zipped up his pants and turned to look at her. Cocking his head to the side, he further elaborated, "What I meant to say was… if you wanna watch a movie or go out and eat somewhere, I can do that. With you. You know? A, uh, get-together?"
A date, Cloud meant to say but stopped himself before going any further. Crap. He sounded terrible. Flirty talk wasn't his forte. He still lacked the ability to casually ask someone out without feeling like a complete dork. Still, he had to give it a shot for Jessie. No matter what the woman said, Cloud felt obligated to her. Since he already knew what she wanted, it was within his reach to give it to her. Cloud quickly licked his chapped lips. He suddenly felt unsure and wondered if it was a mistake to ask her out.
"Y-yeah," Jessie quickly piped up. A subtle but high-pitched melody slipped into her voice now. She grinned. "Yeah, Cloud. I-I would like that very much."
Cloud sealed the deal with a simple nod back. Then he grabbed the black t-shirt from the lining and pulled it over his shoulders. He grunted when the wound on his arm briefly flared with heat. Cloud took a deep breath. "I'm kinda hungry right now. We could go out for lunch?"
Now that he was semi-dressed, Jessie felt comfortable enough to step away from the wall and face him. "T-tempting. I'd love to, Cloud. But. Um…"
"Oh. Crap. That's right," Cloud suddenly realized, "your job."
Jessie responded with a light-hearted chuckle.
"Did you at least eat?" Cloud felt a pang of guilt develop in the pit of his stomach. He hoped she didn't sacrifice her lunch time for him.
"I ate something while you were resting, so I'm good. Speaking of which… I-I should probably get going." Jessie pulled at her ponytail with both hands to tighten it. Then she went to her computer station and turned off the annoying music that hadn't stopped playing. "Sorry. I hope this webcast didn't annoy you. It can be out there, but I do like tuning in. Some of the stuff is interesting."
On the monitor's screen, Cloud saw an image of a young man with slick brown hair and thin-framed glasses. It was the voice he heard as he woke up.
Fuhito, the webmaster of AVALANCHE, was in his twenties. This was the same environmental hippie Biggs was into. A lot of people like Biggs and Jessie were taken by AVALANCHE's movement.
A revolution, everyone called it. Every day Fuhito broadcasted news related to Shinra in an attempt to expose their secrets to the public. Twice, his channel had been taken down, supposedly by the Turks. But Fuhito was a relentless man and had retaliated with a full DNS attack against Shinra's commercial-related servers. Or so Biggs claimed. Cloud didn't really believe the hype. Aside from his first name, he was a relatively unknown person. For all anyone knew, Fuhito was a college kid dropout who smoked grass all day and lived at the basement of his parents' home while trolling Shinra's public channels.
"Yea, I heard him talking about UFOs or something," Cloud mentioned, not really interested in the topic. "Hey. Where's your workshop, Jessie?"
"At Wall Market. Why?"
"Maybe I can walk you there?"
"Oh, like a bodyguard?" Jessie beamed.
"I don't know about that." Cloud snorted out loud. "But it wouldn't hurt to make sure you get there in one piece, especially when they discovered that corpse yesterday at the museum."
"Yeah, that was kinda spooky," Jessie agreed, "Fuhito mentioned it earlier in his webcast. He claims a Tsviet was dispatched at the scene. A monster apparently appeared shortly after the corpse was found."
Cloud cocked a brow, unsure whether to believe this story or not. Fuhito was often full of shit. However, Biggs did mention hearing gunshots and seeing Turks at the checkpoints during his delivery run. There was also a rumor of a Tsviet appearance. This nerved but excited Cloud.
Monster sightings were still an issue in the city. Midgar's Wasteland continuously attracted them. President Shinra insisted they were the results of Wutai rebel attacks. They claimed the rebels planted them in the city. It would explain how the creatures reached topside. Still, it was strange one appeared at the same scene of a corpse. Cloud wondered if the two cases were connected.
Cloud set his thoughts aside and grabbed his PHS on the counter. He decided now was the perfect time to leave. "Let's go. I don't want you to be late. I can grab a bite to eat too."
"Sounds like a plan." Jessie nodded and walked around her apartment to ensure everything was secured and turned off. The two left her nest soon afterward.
Wall Market: a steam-fueled, rusted cesspool that exploited dreams and inward desires. Man could become king. For the right price. The environment was a kaleidoscope of improvised structures made of recycled materials. Metals. Tin. Plastic. Still, the underground 'town' burst with raw energy and ambitions. Perhaps one of the few areas in the Slums with actual running power, venues in Wall Market ran on either battery-juiced generators or coal. Lanterns and bulbs alike kept the area brightly lit. All vendors depended on the generators and coal supplied by Don Corneo who, in turn, took a large percentage. Heavily guarded and gated, the Don's residence occupied the north section.
For many, Wall Market was as close to paradise as anyone could get here. Customers had to keep their wits about them when navigating through its mean streets though. Thugs, thieves, prostitutes, and dealers readily stalked the grounds for potential targets. It was an endless cycle of misery and self-loathe. Many of the working women who spread their legs for Gil were actually desperate mothers or daughters that needed to feed their families. And most of the thugs that plagued the streets originated from broken, disarray homes. Wall Market belonged to the lost and forgotten bastards of Midgar City.
As Cloud traveled alongside Jessie, the bottom of his shoes crushed glass. He checked the ground. There was an assortment of trash, from food to broken wares. Bones of rats and pets rested among the pile. Flies and maggots gathered on the corpses. Cloud exhaled slowly. It was hard enough to stomach a few ghastly sights, but Wall Market's air always felt heavy. Thick antique pipes from various rooftops continuously spat out puffs of smoke. The smog created from generators and fires had settled thickly in the air due to the Plate above. It had nowhere else to go. Cloud was lucky he didn't have asthma.
Watching out for dog shit, the blond-haired teen followed Jessie down a busy section of Wall Market. He bumped into a few people on account of the traffic. It was a popular area. There was a boutique, an Inn for guests, and few other item shops. Young faces stood outside these stores to attract customers while performers played on beat-up improvised instruments for Gil. A familiar scent of Wutai noodles suddenly caught Cloud's attention. It came from the local diner he visited during his trips to Wall Market. It wasn't too far from the Pharmacy he also frequented for his motion sickness pills. Cloud decided to return to the diner for a bite to eat after he dropped Jessie off.
"We're halfway there," Jessie notified. "Thanks for coming with me. This place can be rowdy."
"Yea, it's always an adventure coming here," Cloud responded in a snarky manner.
Walking past a bar now, two drunk idiots abruptly crashed through a window and spilled onto the streets. Cloud and Jessie jumped back in reaction. The intoxicated men sloppily tossed fists at each other, reeking of alcohol. When one of them kneeled over and vomited during the scuffle, the sad display reminded Cloud of his own fight.
Granted, most of last night remained a blur. The liquor and drugs had seen to that. Nonetheless, Cloud suspected the horrible mischief he had committed based on his wounds and muddled thoughts. Perhaps it was best his fragmented memories stay hidden away.
…You smell of unrelenting lust, boy.
A Shinra officer soon arrived at the scene and broke up the fight. He waved his baton and issued the drunks a warning. Cloud wasn't surprised to spot an IM here. It was common to see them among the Slums population. Either they kept the peace and broke up riots… or simply had a good time.
Liquor, sex, and all other the vices were readily available to everyone in Wall Market, no matter rank or status. Shinra employees were no exception. They visited the regular hot spots like everyone else did. However, the high officials were often spotted at the infamous Honey Bee Inn.
Whatever happened at Honey Bee Inn, stayed in Honey Bee Inn. Or so Cloud recalled as he observed the popular hotspot from his current position. A long line of men already stood in front of a tall gate guarded by two bulky males. The special Inn was only two stories high but hosted an impressive group of beautiful women. They donned adorable, yellow-and-black striped outfits that resembled worker bees.
According to Wedge and Biggs, there were four notable rooms worth a visit: the Group Room, the Lover's Room, and the Queen's Room. The last room had no name and was supposedly reserved for the clinically insane. Access into Honey Bee Inn required a membership card that cost good Gil. On occasion, the owner of the establishment offered special one-day passes. Cloud's cheeks turned to a brighter shade of pink. In his coat's pocket was a membership card. He faintly remembered Wedge giving it to him as a birthday present. If he ever had the balls to redeem it, it would be his first time going through those special doors.
"Hey, isn't that the place your Boss likes to hang out?" Jessie suddenly asked.
Cloud looked away from Honey Bee Inn and turned to the direction Jessie currently faced. His skin lost color and he almost had a heart attack on the spot.
"Biggs told me about Mr. Mukki," Jessie revealed as they stared at a gym, "He likes to work out a lot."
Cloud was too appalled to issue a confirmation. That gym…
It was indeed the very gym Mr. Mukki religiously visited. Sheltered within a large tent, a large neon sign shined brightly over its entrance. Cloud had never gone inside the gym. He imagined the air reeked of feet and ass drip. No doubt the floor was glossed with sweat and spit. Cloud had heard a rumor the gym was reserved for a special kind of man. What that meant, Cloud did not know. Nor did he want to know. A sense of anxiety overtook the blond-haired teenager as they walked past the notorious establishment. He halfway expected Mr. Mukki to suddenly pop out from the gym's entrance like a Boogeyman and attack him with a bear hug.
"Hey, there's my shop," Jessie announced and pointed straight ahead.
Praise Gaia, Cloud thought. He hurried after her and didn't look back.
Together, they arrived at a two-storied, make-shift establishment composed of metal panels and pipes. A blue neon-lit sign, Hot Rod's Shop, flickered on and off again.
Behind the workplace was a junkyard cluttered with smashed cars and bikes alike. They stacked on top of each other several feet high. It was a miracle these pillars of metal didn't collapse. At an opened garage space, a few beat-up cars had been mechanically lifted for inspection while others were in the process of being gutted for parts. A flight of steps at the east end led up to the second floor. Neighbors with the Machine Gun Store, the popping sounds of bullets could be heard in conjunction with the non-stop rattle of a mechanical tool. Jessie headed for the entrance of Hot Rod's Shop. Wanting to properly send her off, Cloud followed suit.
A single bell chimed on their arrival. Hip-hop melodies played loudly from an antique jukebox by the entrance. The air smelled of rubber, oil, and cigarette smoke. A large, squeaky ceiling fan spun above them. To Cloud, Hot Rod's Shop was impressive in size. It looked the part of a legitimate mechanics shop. The wall next to him consisted of a series of corded boards that displayed cables, wrenches, coiled wires, and other important tools. Four metaled shelves with wheels were placed in a line, each containing cans and bottles. A six-foot tall and five-feet-wide red cabinet sat at a corner. As the two arrivals stepped further into the workshop, they passed by a collection of tires of various sizes.
Jessie waved to a twenty-something unshaven male inside a metal cage that reached up to the ceiling. The man gave Jessie a half-mocked salute when he saw her, then returned his attention to the cigar-smoking customer in front of him.
Looking intimidating, the caged man had unkempt auburn hair and a collection of tattoos stenciled on his well-toned, ripped arms. He wore gray overalls like Jessie but kept the topped pulled down and revealed a black, sleeveless shirt. Several necklaces decorated his neck while a cigarette was tucked above one ear. A wooden counter ran along the same length of his cage. From his enclosed space, he hung in suspension by a swing. Its chains led up to an opening in the ceiling. A visible lever was next to him, the triggering device required to ascend to the second floor.
Cloud and Jessie left the man in the cage alone and made their way to a small break room nearby. Made of chain-linked walls, the break room provided a mini-fridge and a water dispenser. A cheap plastic square table was propped to a side, littered with cigarette butts, consumed soda cans, and magazines. A newspaper sat at the top of the stack. It showcased the corpse sighting at the museum.
Clocking in with a paper slip in the break room, Jessie turned to Cloud and revealed, "That guy out there is my boss: Alvis. But everyone in Wall Market calls him Rod."
"Rod?" Cloud gave out a loud snort. "Something tells me he thinks pretty high of himself."
Jessie poured water into a paper cup. "Heh. Well. People call him that because he likes to hit people who give him funny business with metal pipes." She suddenly leaned close to Cloud and whispered, "Between you and me, I think my Boss is an ex-Turk…"
Cloud became quiet and didn't crack another joke at Rod's expense. Wearily, he checked the cage again.
He saw Rod still talking to the customer. Surrounding Jessie's boss were giant posters of bikini-clad women. However, there was a line of metal pipes on a rack next to Rod. Cloud wondered if they were tools or really props used to beat bad customers to a bloody pulp. He swallowed hard at that last possibility. Rod really was a scary looking guy. Then again, nearly everyone who was afraid of their boss claimed he or she must've been an ex-Turk. It was a common running joke in Midgar.
Jessie left the break room shortly after. Cloud followed. He decided to mention his departure to Jessie until he noticed a motorcycle a few feet away. It was near a work bench across him. A glint in Cloud's eyes appeared. He took several steps closer to the bike.
It must've been an old model since it lacked all the fancy additions of a typical G-bike. No GPS. No digital transmitter. No automatic break locks. Its rusted handle bars were wide spread while the busted headlights consisted of large round shapes. The paint-job had been reduced to chipped flakes of dull browns. Cloud ran a hand across its torn leather seat. Despite its terrible condition, he adored it. Since he was a kid he wanted to ride a bike. He loved the sound of its engine and the complex beauty of its mechanical body.
"You like that?" Jessie approached him from behind. She took another gulp of her water. "Rod brought that in for me to restore. There's a lot I gotta fix though, like the spark plug and cooling fan. The combustion chamber is also in pretty bad shape. You ride bikes?"
Cloud slowly removed his hand from the handle. He shook his head. "No. Unfortunately, I don't."
"Unfortunately?" Jessie repeated. "You don't have a bike license?"
"Nope. No license at all."
"Not even for a car?" The female mechanic blinked. "But you're already seventeen…"
"My motion sickness…" Cloud explained and leaned against a work bench with arms crossed. "I can't ride a car, let alone, a bike."
Jessie silently sipped her water. Afterward, she asked, "Have you talked with the doctors?"
"I've been taking motion sickness pills. That's all I can do. I also can't afford an instructor or Driver's Ed class." Cloud set his eyes to the floor. "I guess I'm doomed to keep my feet planted to the ground."
"I wouldn't give up just yet, Cloud." Jessie took a step forward. She crushed the paper cup and tossed it in a bin. Proudly, she declared, "I know how to ride a bike. I can teach you! No sweat."
Cloud stared at her.
"You won't have to pay a thing since I'll provide the bike too," the woman continued, "We'll get you your Bike License in no time. You can worry about a Car License later."
Speechless, Cloud's eyes switched back and forth between the bike and Jessie. He couldn't determine whether it was the real deal or a false hope. His pessimistic nature wouldn't allow him to accept this wonderful offer without question. Already, Cloud debated what the trade-off was. By accepting this offer he would feel even more obligated to her. He hardly knew Jessie and didn't want to plant any funny ideas in her head if he agreed to it.
"Well? What do you say, Cloud?" Jessie asked; a genuine smile on her face. "You game?"
A pause. A thought. A frown. Finally, Cloud replied in a no-nonsense manner, "Are you serious?"
At first, Jessie responded with an unblinking look on her face. Then a small snicker escaped her mouth. "Wow. Biggs was right about you: you can be a funny man sometimes."
Cloud's brows shifted evenly, not sure how to take that.
"Listen," Jessie began, "I'm very serious about teaching you. I'm offering my services. Free of charge. You just gotta tell me if you're interested or not. I won't force you into this if you don't want to."
Cloud studied Jessie's face. Her tone was gentle and her eyes never wavered from his. The woman was dead serious about teaching him how to ride a bike. And she had the means to make good on that promise. Cloud's eyes directed back to the bike next to them. His hand touched its handle again. This broken bike… it was a work-in-progress. Just like him. A faint smile formed across his lips.
Cloud turned to Jessie. "When can we start?"
She instantly grinned. "We'll figure out each other's work schedules and go from there."
Cloud bobbed his head in agreement and stood closer to the bike. This was great. Not only would he finally learn how to ride one of these metal beasts, but he'd also learn to cope with his motion sickness. The pills weren't enough. If he couldn't operate a vehicle or tolerate one without puking he'd be no good to the Public Safety Division, let alone, the Tsviets.
"Goddamn, that's too expensive, ya freakin' asshat!" a voice suddenly exploded behind the two. "Whatcha take me fo'? The Princess of Wutai?"
Both Cloud and Jessie shifted their attentions to the blond-haired customer with the cigar. He wore an assortment of vintage accessories on his person, including a pair of bronze metaled goggles above his head and long leather gloves. His jacket was grimed with oil and grease. The conversation between Rod and him had escalated into a screaming-swearing match of sorts. Neither man blinked or backed off.
"That engine, alone, is worth twelve," Rod notified through gritted teeth, "I got three other customers lined up, ready to throw down thirteen. Pony up or fuck off, Spaceman."
"Yea, the engine is worth twelve. But with the five-fingered discount you're always gettin' fo' yo' parts? I reckon that twelve ain't coverin' any expenses, except for the ones ya rack up at the Honey Bee Inn."
"Don't like my business? Go somewhere else, Spaceman. That is, of course, if you can find another dealer with a Class B Model 387 Engine for that damn flying tin-can you call a plane."
The other man took a deep inhale from his cigar. He blew a puff of smoke at Rod's direction. "I'll make a deal: ya give me that engine fo' four grand an' I'll run a free shipment fo' ya. Ya won't have to worry 'bout all that red-tape at the loadin' docks or the inspectors peepin' in yo' crates. Deal?"
Inside his cage, Rod scratched his stubby jawline beard.
"That'll include the fuel too, you greedy-ass dipshit," the customer continued.
Rod suddenly beamed. "Sounds like a deal, Spaceman. I'll have the engine ready in an hour."
Both men spit into their palms. Through a square gap in the cage their hands interlocked and shook. Then the blond-haired man held out his wrist's barcode. Rod scanned it with his handheld scanner.
"Four thousand Gil has been withdrawn," a computerized female notified.
"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Spaceman," Rod said with a satisfied smile on his face.
The blond-haired customer grumbled a few incoherent words. He headed straight for the exit. As the bell chimed from his departure, Jessie looked to her boss. She approached the cage with Cloud.
"Who was that?" the young woman asked.
"Cid Highwind, a top-class pilot for Shinra. He's actually slated to fly into space next year. Mr. Spaceman needs the Class B engine. Be sure to spruce it up before he comes back, girl." Sitting in his swing, Rod turned and noticed Cloud. "Who the fuck is this pretty boy? Your boyfriend?"
Cloud frowned.
"Uh, n-no. He's just a f-friend." Jessie grew red-faced. "This is Cloud."
"Cloud?" Rod took one long look at him. "Hm. Figured a twink like you would have a name like Cloud."
"It certainly beats being a dick named Rod," the boy retorted in kind.
Silent, Rod removed the cigarette from his ear and lit it with a mini-blowtorch he grabbed from his counter. To Jessie, he simply said, "I like this kid already."
Jessie blushed. "Um, I was showing Cloud around the shop. He lives in the Slums too and works at Chocobo Chow up at the Plate."
Cloud made a face. He wished she didn't mention his occupation, especially to this hard-ass man. A sense of pride prompted him to clarify, "It's only for a while. I plan on enlisting this spring."
"To the army?" Rod took an inhale of his cigarette. "That sounds intense. Lotta boys sign up for the meat grinder. Judging by that look in your eyes, though, you're not just shooting for any grunt position. You want the Tsviets. Am I correct about this?"
"Yea. So what if I am?"
"No need to be defensive, kid. A lot of people want to join their ranks. The Tsviets got the power of mako in their blood. They're the fucking juggernauts of this world, possessing all the genetic imprints of a new God. Not many can surpass the Tsviets. Well. Except maybe for the Old Blood."
"Old blood?" Cloud repeated.
Rod blew smoke from his mouth. The music on his jukebox temporarily stopped to switch to another record. A wave of silence dominated the room, interrupted only by the ta-ta-ta bullet sounds from the Machine Gun Shop next door. At the switch of a record, the music changed from hip-hop to the blues. Rod tipped the ashes off from his cigarette and gave one more serious look at Cloud.
"That's another story from another time," Rod finally said. He stared without unblinking. "You got the determination, kid. I can see that in you. But I'd be careful. The stories I hear about Shinra and their pet projects… It's the type of shit that'll spook anyone."
Cloud crossed his arms. "And how would you know anything about Shinra?"
"That's another story from another time," Rod repeated and showcased all white teeth in his grin. His hand reached for a lever and the chains in his swing started to pull him up. As the head mechanic ascended to the square hole in the ceiling, his voice carried to Cloud. "Be careful what you wish for, kid. The sleeper's dream can quickly turn into a nightmare."
Rod laughed. His sound echoed loudly until he disappeared through the ceiling. The words stayed with Cloud. He started to wonder if Jessie's suspicions about her boss were right all along. Meanwhile, the female mechanic took a step closer to Cloud. She offered an apologetic look on her face.
"Ignore him," she suggested, "Rod can be an ass sometimes."
"So I've noticed," Cloud agreed. He took his eyes away from the ceiling and glanced at the door he initially came through. "I'm gonna head out now if you don't mind, Jessie. I don't want to distract you from your work."
"You're not a distraction," Jessie replied very softly. "Thanks for escorting me here, by the way."
"No problem." Cloud suddenly felt awkward. He took a few steps toward the door but paused midway. Looking back at Jessie, he muttered, "I'll, um, stay in touch. For the bike lessons. And the… other thing."
"I look forward to our date, Cloud."
Jessie's face blossomed with a warmer color. The mechanic had blushed a lot throughout their time together. It was clear she was excited about their date. For Cloud, though, he didn't know how to react. A handshake? A hug? A kiss on the cheek? Cloud recalled the 'no kissing on the first date' rule and settled for an awkward smile instead. He was terrible at intimate affairs like this. He maintained his smile long enough to look away. Then he quickly left Hot Rod's Shop in search of food.