A/N: Thank you everyone for your comments and support for this story! It makes my heart warm! This chapter deals with some sensitive issues such as predatory behaviors and dubious consent. Basically, Sephiroth continues to be horrible. Read cautiously if you are triggered by such things, and I hope you find a place to enjoy this episode! It's a New Year's Eve Ep!

Chapter Twenty: Countdown

You never knew

Well I never told you

Everything I know about breaking hearts

I learned from you, it's true

I've never done it with the style and grace you have

But I've made long term plans

Based on these mistakes

-"There's no I in Team"- Taking Back Sunday

The vacation week became a blur of get togethers and late night phone calls while smoking entirely too many cigarettes. A blur more so for how fast the week actually went and not the usual rollercoaster of black out drunk I throw myself on during these vacations. Much to Seph's annoyance; as apparently I'm more fun when I funnel a bottle of vodka down my throat than when I nurse beers. And in fact the last time we saw each other, before the call of his parent's annual New Years Eve party, we attended Tifa's family Christmas Eve party.

He got us salvia.

We smoked it while our parents got drunk on the floor above. The world looked like Alice in Wonderland for ten straight minutes that felt like ten hours. The five of us- Cid, Vin, Seph, Tifa, and I- laid on a pile of pillows and blankets in the center of her basement living room and stared at the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling.

I wonder if when we die, our souls become stars.

I said.

We become the trees.

Tifa responded.

We become fire.

Cid stuttered with a bitter tongue.

We become black holes and suck the life out of everyone.

Sephiroth cackled.

I have no soul

Was Vinny's contribution.

Apparently, I texted Reno my observation. And he merely texted back: how high r u rn?

We smoked. We watched Batman Returns and debated on which Batman villains we should be for next Halloween. Seph pretending he would actually participate and we forgot to call him out for bailing on us the last few years. For a minute, we were all getting along, if we just had our man Barret, this would have been perfect. We did drunk call him at midnight and he unleashed a string of curses before hanging up.

On Christmas Day, my mother forced us to wear matching pajamas so she could take the annual family photo to send to her family to at least continue the illusion that we weren't falling apart. However, I give her props because she got us custom made Metallica christmas shirts to wear with red and black plaid bottoms. And they told me how they went to the Monsters of Rock Tour in June 1988 when she was seven months pregnant with me- and I tried not to think about the debauchery that happened which would explain all my issues. After the picture, we opened presents and my mom could hardly contain her excitement when she dragged a huge box out of one of the closets. It was a guitar. The exact one I wanted. And I held it on my lap and ran my fingers along the strings. And thought about all the songs I could write in the notebook Reno got me. Maybe happier songs.

"You should have told us how much you like playing guitar," my dad chastised, "I would have definitely paid for lessons."

"Well, pay for them now," my mom countered, and I ignored the glare my dad returned. She returns her mixed gray eyes to me, "Hurry up and open your other presents."

They got me an amp- and my dad suggested I go into the backyard and play any metal songs I know as loud as possible when the Sinclairs get home- and a ton more guitar picks for electric guitars.

My parents exchange gifts with each other with tense thank yous and forced gasps of gratification. Dad got a new set of Golf Clubs and mom got an expensive jewelry set. They also got presents from "me" in the forms of basic clothing they needed. When I meekly apologized for the weak effort, or really, non effort. They both stuttered. It's okay and assured me that my first excellent report card in two years will be enough. Apparently they spoke to my teachers and they were impressed with my improvements. I ran my fingers against my new guitar as they showered me with compliments. And I didn't know how to respond, so I mumbled a moody thank you.

Reno and I spoke on the phone every night after nine pm when calls were free. Often I would be sitting on my bed with one of my guitars resting on my lap, and a cigarette in my hand, blowing the smoke out the window pretending he was with me. He would take the call outside, as far away from his family as possible. And each day his voice descended into crushing sadness as if being choked by weeds. And I did ask about it, but he immediately forced a laugh, and avoided the subject.

He told me he would tell me everything when we see each other.

And his voice sounded like the darkest parts of space.

He told me how he listened to the CD I gave him five times already to drown out the sounds of his family speaking.

And how he and Rude watched both movies together.

And Rude finally flat out asked what our deal was.

"Did you tell him?" I inquired.

"I asked if he really wanted to know and he dropped it," he took a sharp breath and exhaled, "But he knows. He's not an idiot. He's had to cover for me a few times already."

"Do you think he'll tell anyone?"

"Rude was the first person I ever told…" his voice trailed off for a second, "and he didn't tell anyone then. He won't tell anyone now."

And if Reno trusted him.

Then I did.

The Sinclair's were coming home New Year's and then needed to make an appearance at the Shinra's for their exclusive party. Reno called before his flight, risking his minutes, and told me to stay by my phone later on in the night. Those were the only directions. He mumbled an I love you which was the first time he said it in a week and hung up before I could respond.

I sighed and flipped my phone shut. And even though I felt the vibrations of excitement,I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

But I ignored it.

The Strifes had an invitation to the Sterns they couldn't decline.

And I felt guilty at the lack of excitement for my friend's party. All his baseball friends would be in attendance, leaving me the odd man out. Tifa and Vinny, and a few of the other friends, were celebrating at Cid's house with their families, and I'd much rather be there. At least they were my people. The only consolation, The Gainsborough's were also invited, meaning Aerith and I could stick together. But I could tell from the distant look in her green eyes, she hoped to be anywhere else.

Alexie Stern, Chief of Surgery, with a rare day off throws a party of overabundance and extravagance every New Years Eve. Their six thousand square foot house decorated with all the high end red and gold Christmas decorations they will dispose of promptly after the Holiday season comes to a close. The nine foot evergreen tree in the center of the house, in front of the wrap around staircase, blocking out the creepy family portrait at the center of the balcony area. They catered from a five star restaurant in Staten Island. A band plays the top hits from the 50s and 60s in the music room. His wife, Jenova, with her pinched hazel eyes, orders the servants they hired around the house with the personality of a badger. While Alexie greets every guest, regardless of age, with champagne and overentused hugs.

Aerith and I roam the house sharing glances like silent conversations. And when she looks away I admire how beautiful she looks under the twinkle of party lights. Her brown hair down in loose curls, simple makeup that brings out the soft greens in her eyes. She's wearing a knee length red dress with floral lace overlay (and I mentally hit myself for knowing what that is and remind myself to never tell Reno), with simple lace sleeves that show her arms. Her heels are black stilettos that she can barely walk in, she clings to my arm in an effort to keep herself upright.

"Your shoes are ridiculous," I snap as I try to guide her towards the basement where Sephiroth and his friends are already partying.

"They're Gucci," she argues. Like that means anything to me.

"They suck."

"I wanted one nice thing for Christmas, okay? I never ask for anything expensive!"

"You can't even walk!"

She nearly falls down the stairs, taking me with her, so I pick her up bridal style. "You're making my life extremely difficult," I huff as she wraps her slender arms around my neck.

"My hero," she giggles and I roll my eyes. "You think you know who will be a little jealous?" She jokes.

"I think he's pretty secure that you got nothing I want," I counter with a sly smile.

She gasps like she's offended, "You could be a little less rude about it!"

We managed to make it to the "kids" party without breaking any bones. Slowly I bring her back down to Earth, and she tries to steady herself on the hardwood floors, but I can hear the stilettos scrap and slip. She coils around my left arm like a constrictor and I offer her an accepting look- just hang on- and she smiles shyly. We make our way to the crowd of boys and some sporadic girls from school I barely recognize. Sephiroth immediately snaps his eyes towards us, squinting with an air of confusion, before curving his lips into a sinister smile. And I feel her grip on me tighten.

He approaches us, a glass of whiskey in his hand as if he's trying to emulate his father, "Well, don't you two look cute."

"She can't walk," I nod towards her shoes.

But his gaze never leaves me, "Oh, I'm sure she can't."

All his friends are staring at us- Angeal, Genesis, Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo- and all in matching black button downs and black dress jackets, and matching dangerous smiles that make me want to throw Aerith over my shoulder and head to Cid's. The girls offer unenthused glares as they scan Aerith's outfit; their judgement etched along their made up faces. I'm taken aback by their response to the brunette. Aerith is one of the more popular girls in the school with her contagiously sweet personality and genuine kindness.

But I remember.

Maybe some rumors spilled from my own lips was enough to change that.

And I feel a tidal wave of guilt.

"So, can I get you two lovely people something to drink?" Seph asks.

"Beer is fine," I respond and look at Aerith, who nods with a wince of pain.

I manage to locate a place for us to sit, and drag her over to the couch away from the group. She drops down and immediately takes her shoes off, trying to regain feeling in her feet. The girls in the corner chuckle. And I dart my eyes towards them with a fiery glare. Which makes them laugh louder. Sephiroth brings us our drinks, which we take though I feel the hesitation from Aerith. She waits for my movements before following. And I remember she didn't do this when we were together. Always the one in control- sometimes I found myself waiting for her lead.

"What have you been getting into Cloud?" Seph starts with an edge to his voice that I immediately pick up on. "Hanging out in New Dorp, smoking with Vin's aunt and drinking at the beach?" His hazel eyes mock me.

"Didn't know you were so above that," I remind him.

He smirks, "Got to grow up sometimes, right?" Then he looks at Aerith, who mindlessly takes a sip with her eyes glued to her swollen feet. "Nice to see you coming back around."

She cautiously brings her green eyes to him and retorts blankly, "Our dad's are friends and this is his holiday with me."

Seph loses his cheshire smile- looking between the two of us. "I have a feeling that isn't the only reason."

"Well, you were never the perceptive one, were you?"

I stifle a laugh with my drink. And I feel his vengeful eyes drill holes into the top of my head. I glance at Aerith, who has taken to massaging her pained feet and ignoring the silver-haired boy standing in front of us. Some of his friends call him back to their group, apparently poker is on the agenda.

"Always great having you around," he mutters, drenched in weak sarcasm, before returning to his group.

"You don't have to sit here with me," Aerith offers, "You can go hang out with your friends."

But I shake my head, staring at the group- the boys playing poker while the girls stand and watch like props. "Those aren't my friends." I turn back to her, "And I'm not going to leave you here alone."

She blushes and looks back at her beer with a soft smile. "Thank you, Cloud."

A flash of a memory smacks me across the head. All the times I left her sitting alone in this basement while I got drunk with Sephiroth and let his friends mock me for their enjoyment. While she watched, with a mournful expression in her eyes. Until it was time to leave and she had to drag me home- half dead to the world. And I never apologized. Instead, I would bite back like a feral dog if she questioned my drinking. If she asked me to stop. Which made me go harder. And I wonder now why I didn't just listen to her.

Dick Clark's Rockin Eve on the T.V. The volume drowned out by the unneeded screams from the group in the corner of the room. Apparently, Sephiroth continues his winning streak against the rest of the guys. Aerith and I decided to grab our own deck of cards and play War as a drinking game. Every time you lose a draw, you drink. If you put down the same card and have to draw three, whoever loses drinks three times. The game proves never ending; and I'm charged with grabbing more beer since Aerith refuses to move without putting on her shoes- and her swollen feet won't allow that.

In between rounds I check my phone.

"Sorry I'm not more entertaining," she smirks as we throw down our cards.

"It's not you, someone told me to stay by my phone." I take a sip with my cards, and note she's close to winning finally.

"Oh?" she says suggestively, "Big plans later?"

I feel my cheeks burn, "No. Just. They probably want to call around midnight."

"Hm," she taps her chin with her cards, "I don't know."

"You're drunk," I counter, throwing down a King and she frowns when he reveals a two.

As she takes her sip, two girls walk past us- and I recognize them from Track 2, both of them on cross country. One with long black hair and a fake tan, who I only know as Rebecca and her friend, with chunky caramel highlights that make her look like a skunk, whose name I can't remember. And they take dramatic sniffs of the air as they walk near Aerith. Scrunching their noses.

"Ew, do you smell that," the raven-haired girl gags and darts her soulless brown eyes at Aerith. Who in response, slowly forces her shoes back on through the winces of pain.

I snap, "It's your snatch, Becky, I smell that shit from here."

Poker chips rattle on the table. Everyone pauses. And I glance at Aerith, who looks horrified as her lips twitch. Broken conversations whisper from then boys.

"Fuck off Cloud!" Becky screeches in a thick Staten Island Accent. "No one even likes you."

"And yet here I am, at the same party as you." I roll my eyes. That insult bounces off me like a bullet ricocheting off armor. I'm so used to that phrase. It doesn't burn me anymore.

"Kadaj!" She whines, "Cloud's being an asshole."

I mumble a god dammit as I hear her boyfriend's leather shoes stomp towards me. Kadaj tries too hard to be a clone of Sephiroth. Same hair. Same sport. He follows around my friend like a peasant looking for scraps from the king. Sephiroth used to get him wasted and have him streak down the street because he could. And Kadaj would gladly do anything his master suggested. And I laughed with the rest of the group because at least it wasn't me making a fool of myself. But he also, when not squirming under Seph's thumb, takes out his pent up self-hatred on his two buddies, Loz and Yazoo, or over compenstates by fighting anyone he deems weaker.

And I don't know why he wants to be reintroduced to my right hook, but I'm feeling generous..

I smell him next to me with whatever Axe body spray he's wearing. And I know what he's going to say before the flies from his mouth because, fuck, if these guys aren't predictable.

"You want to start something, pussy?"

I rise from the couch, and I'm at least two inches taller than him. And the word doesn't even cause me to flinch because of how pathetic it sounds coming from him. Like a puppet. Yapping his mouth with no soul. I stare directly down into his eyes, and he looks back unrelenting. And I can hear the other shoes approach us, and the stench of cologne that's his buddies brand.

"I'm not going to start shit, but I'll fucking end it."

Before this escalates, Sephiroth appears and gently pushes us away from each other with a roaring laugh that contradicts the air of tension in the room.

"Come on Kadaj, you want to get your ass kicked by Cloud again?" He grips the other boy's shoulder with enough pressure that Kadaj flinches. "We don't want a repeat of the fourth of July do we?" He brings his eyes to me, "You good, man?"

I'm about to respond when Kadaj raises his voice again, "He should apologize to my girl." Seph's eyes darken, his grip tightens, but Kadaj doubles down. "He said her pussy smelled."

And Sephiroth smirked, "Well tell her to wash it then."

I feel...gross. Rebecca and her friend stomp off and Kadaj just weakly nods his head before returning to his group. I just wanted those girls to leave Aerith alone, not become a spectacle.

Always part of the problem, I grimace.

And Sephiroth shakes me out of my thoughts. He looks at me with oddly placed concern, which sends shivers down my spine. "You wanna go out for a smoke?" he asks and I'm taken aback by the gentle tone in his voice.

I turn to Aerith who fidgets with her manicured nails while scanning the room; the contorted faces of judgement. The scowls of displeasure at our existences in this lap of luxury. And I look, with her, for a friendly face.

Which comes in the form of Angeal. The giant of a man walks over to Aerith and in a voice that flutters like tiny moths, asks if she's okay. And I'm not shocked. Angeal, unlike his comrades Genesis, Kadaj, and Seph, doesn't exploit the weaknesses in people. A natural protector. The oldest boy in a family that consists of two younger sisters and a brother. And while we never interacted outside of parties, when Kadaj tried jumping me at the aforementioned 4th of July party- and after I knocked him out, and his two buddies tried to double team me- Angeal was the one who stepped in. Not Sephiroth, who laughed on his front lawn with a smile on his face.

Aerith and I make eye contact. She gives me a nod and turns back to Angeal, who takes a seat next to her.

"Nice shoes," he comments, "My sister got the same ones. She can't walk in them either." They exchange pleasant chuckles. And I feel secure enough to let Sephiorth drag me out of the warmth of the house.

The wind blisters relentlessly as we exit the home, pulling out our respective cigarettes. Sephiroth, more of a social smoker than an addict like me, places the clove between his thin smirking lips. The spark of the lighter illuminates the rough features of his face. His eyes glowing against the black of the night sky. Like two glaring meteors that threaten to crash into the earth's crust. I lean against his house with my eyes focused on the stars that shimmer above. And wonder how many souls are watching from above.

"You and Aerith seem to be back together," he announces with a slight growl.

"We're just friends." I push back, "Ex's can be friends."

"Not in my experience," He laughs. And I shake my head; because he never had a real girlfriend, just conquests. And that's his phrasing. "She's kind of a buzzkill."

And I'm not sure if it's the toxic tone of his voice.

The straight venom he laces with every word.

Or if it's the slight tingle of intoxication that tiptoes through my brain.

Maybe the adrenaline from almost exchanging blows with his clone.

But I'm bold enough to confront him. "What did you do to her?" And it wasn't so much a question, but an accusation. And he picks up on it immediately with his eyes slanted with restrained rage. He removes the cancer from his lips and blows the smoke in my direction. "My birthday," I continue, looking at him directly in his eyes, "what happened?"

"What are you getting at, Cloud," his voice slow and intentional. He enunciates every syllable like a warning.

"You never told me what really happened…"

"What do you remember?" he stiffens.

The memories have leaked from the hole in my head. Like a drip from the sink. That alerts the entire house to a problem, but I can't locate the source. And it comes in waves. When similar sounds sneak into my ear. Or I see a set up that reminds me of that night.

I remember Vinny's house after we were chased from the beach by cops. I remember playing Kings and Aerith and I got into one of our famous drunk couple fights we had become known for. And Barret pulled me out of the house to smack some sense into me. His words sounded buried six feet under. So I pushed him away and stomped back into the house. Went into Vinny's bedroom.

"You were on top of her," I say, my chest tightening, "and I jumped you."

He nods, "Sounds about right." His voice lacks any conviction.

"Why were you on top of my girlfriend?"

"What did she tell you?" He brings the brown stick back to his lips and waits for me to respond. And I hate how he's handling this. And I hate how I'm playing into this. Because I just need to know, for sure.

"She doesn't remember-"

He snorts, "Typical."

"Sephiroth," I snap, louder than I intended, but my voice flies against his ears like a slap. "She was drunk. Really fucking drunk. She blackout that night. So why were you on top of her?"

"Sounds like you're trying to accuse me of something."

"Sounds like you're avoiding the question."

The wind howls and bellows past us and whips his jacket against his body. And even in the darkness I can see the slanting of his eyebrows, the curl of his lips back that return with a scowl. He takes several tense breaths before he sighs. His features relaxing. "I didn't want to tell you, because I didn't want you to feel like shit. But I guess I have no choice?"

"Never stopped you before."

He smirks, "Alright, tough guy," he rolls his eyes at me and I feel smaller than an ant. "I guess she doesn't remember crying to me about how you refused to touch her? I went into the bedroom to make sure she was okay- you went in on her, bro. Over a fucking stupid game of kings. Poor girl was sobbing by herself. And she told me everything." And the way he says that last word...with a dangerous pause. My stomach drops.

"Like how everytime you two tried having sex you couldn't even get it up half the time," his laugh cuts, "And that you would avoid touching her. She didn't feel beautiful, bro. You made her feel like garbage. And…" he shrugs his shoulders, "I mean, she's fucking gorgeous, could you blame me? I have her crying on my shoulder just begging for someone to show her a little attention. So...I kissed her. That's it."

I crush my cigarette in my hand, still lit, ignoring the burn.

He darts his eyes from my fist to my eyes, "Okay okay. It was a shitty thing to do-"

"You fucking think," I bark.

"But you have to shoulder some of that blame. Come on, man. You were a terrible boyfriend. Everyone says the same thing." He snickers when my face betrays me and I wince at his confession.

And Aerith would agree with that statement. And I was. I know I was. But there's something that I can't shake. The lack of sincerity in his tone.

Maybe he doesn't feel bad. At all. He was doing her favor.

A favor she neither remembers or asked for.

"Apologize to her," I demand.

He shoots me a perplexed look. "Excuse me? Why the fuck would I do that?"

"She doesn't remember what happened. You do. Which means she was black out drunk and you weren't."

"I don't like what you're getting at, Cloud," he warns.

"If you really were just drunk, and stupid that night, then apologize to her. Tell her you didn't mean to...take advantage of the situation."

Sephiroth's eyes darken to a dangerous shade as he glares into me- and it's like I feel him in the crevices of my brain, pulling apart threads in the hope to completely disarm me. But I try to use the glow of pre-drunk to dodge his metaphorical attempts to overpower me. Make me relent. Take back the implication. But I refuse to be Kadaj and let him take hold of the strings. Not this time. He runs his tongue over his teeth like an animal.

And then shrugs like he's bored..

"Fine. If it'll make you happy." he flicks the cigarette into the yard without a care if the glowing ember sets the whole place on fire. He walks back in, but makes sure to slam into my shoulder. I stumble back but regain my composure before immediately following him.

I'm not sure how he's planning on handling this. And I'm not sure if I trust him with her. And the way her eyes narrow when he approaches her and gently asks if she would come with him, I know she's as reluctant as I am. She shoves her feet back into her shoes and follows him to a corner of the house for a semblance of privacy, slapping his hand away when he offers to help her walk. And even with the occasional wobble, Aerith makes the short distances. I cautiously follow behind, not too close.

He takes her to a kitchen area with an island and stools. They take a seat and I strain my ears to hear their hushed conversation; barely making it out:

"It's come to my attention that I may have acted inappropriate with you." he begins with a shell of a voice. She doesn't respond, instead, looking at the floor. So he continues. "Cloud's birthday. I may have misread some signals and…" then his voice drops, cracks, like he's pushing tears from a dead part of his soul. "I didn't realize how drunk we were."

"I told you no," she whispers. And I knit my eyebrows together.

"I...know. But then you didn't."

I can see her tense as she brings her eyes to his. "I was drunk. Cloud's your best friend. At least, that's what I thought."

He runs his fingers through his hair, and with the way he's sitting I can't see his face, but I imagine he's frowning. "He is. He really is. But…." he drops his shoulders, like his guard, "I'm jealous of Cloud."

I nearly give my spot away with a snort.

"He's...a better guy than me," he continues with his voice pained, "He can be an ass sometimes, but he's always had my back and I was jealous that he managed to get you and not me. I always thought you were the most beautiful girl in our school. And he's so...awkward and I never understood the two of you but-" A scheduled pause, "I was drunk and you were telling me how terrible he treated you. I guess I thought...you were dropping hints. But I was wrong. Obviously. And I'm sorry for hurting you."

His tone rehearsed. Inflections where appropriate. Even his body language, leaning in, hand on table, as a form of intimidation. And I wonder why I didn't see it before. Aerith examines the man in front of her with an inquisitive eye. The flashes of uncertainty in her face were obvious.

And I think about how she told me she didn't remember. And if maybe she did.

But what was the truth, then? And it's his word against ours.

"Okay," she nods, "Thank you for apologizing."

He leans back, his back tense. As if that wasn't the response he was expecting. I watch as his finger taps against the marble island. The mocking sound caused Aerith to wince.. And he gently chuckles. "Thank you for listening. If there's anything else I can do to make this right, let me know."

I make my presence known and emerge from my spot behind the wall. Aerith relaxes when her green eyes rest on me. Sephiroth turns slowly with a devious smirk upon his face. He slides off his chair, thanking Aerith once more for her time, and approaches me. He looks enormous, his head almost reaching the low ceiling. And I turn rigid like a statue as he walks by me. Pausing next to me to whisper: happy now, Cloud? And I slowly move my eyes to him-silence- before he leaves to join the rest of his friends.

Aerith doesn't immediately move from her seat. I join her for the moment and take the seat originally occupied by Sephiroth.

"Are you okay?" I ask, reaching out to take her hand- soft under my touch.

She nods with a strained smile, "Yes. I'm fine."

"Did...he lie? About anything?"

And she squeezes my hand, "Even if he did, Cloud, who really knows anymore?" She blinks back the brimming wetness in her eyes, "I just want to move on? Okay? Can we move on now?"

I agree even though a part of me screams at how wrong this all seems. But I have Aerith pleading with her broken eyes to drop the issue. And in the end, it's her call. I release her hand for a moment.

"Remember that special drink I used to make when we raided Seph's mom's liquor?"

She chuckles, "Oh you mean ginger ale and whiskey? Not really something special."

"Yeah but I add chili powder for a kick." I jump off the seat and walk around the island to the good whiskey that Jenova thinks we don't know about.

"Oh yeah!" Aerith makes a disgusted face, "So gross. But, like, not at the same time."

I pull out the ingredients from various areas of the kitchen. "Just one, though. If someone calls and I can't speak, they're gonna be tight."

She rolls her eyes, "Wow, they must be special to control the uncontrollable, Cloud Strife."

I bite my lip, to hide the smile, as I make us the strange concoction I created one night where I maybe had too many. And maybe dared the group to try it. Everyone spat theirs out except Aerith who committed to consuming the entire glass and then demanded another one.

And that determination was probably why I liked her so much.

I slide her glass across the table. She makes a comment about my future in bartending. I remind her I don't think about my future as we cheers.

But she smirks, "I have a feeling you've been thinking about your future a lot more now." And she takes a large gulp.

I stare at the brown carbonated beverage with small specks of red floating against the ice. "Maybe you're right." And I follow her lead.

We nurse our drinks- I think mainly because they are truly disgusting- and discuss school, and her clubs, and our parents. While the party continues to erupt on the other side of the basement. And we groan everytime we hear the voices leak into the private area we commandeered. I offer her a sympathetic look- silently thinking about how much better Cid's house must be right now- when my phone starts vibrating. She jumps with me as if she was waiting patiently for him to call.

I flip the phone open, noting the time of eleven p.m on the screen. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" Reno questions immediately.

"Uh at Seph's house...where are you?"

"God dammit," he curses. And Aerith runs next to me and tries to crawl up my body to hear the conversation. As I try pushing her down and away, he sighs. "Yeah, you know, fuck it. I really don't want to wait to see you." And the brown haired girl mouths aw like this is her relationship. "I want to see you right now. Is there any way you can bail on your party and meet me at your place?"

"Yes," Aerith blurts out and quickly slaps her hands over her mouth.

"...Please tell me that's Aerith?"

"Yeah. She's...drunk on whiskey and chili powder." I glare daggers at the girl who drops her arms and mouths hey.

"I...don't fucking have time to deal with what you just said," he falters, "just...can you get to your place or not?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Good...don't bring Aerith."

He hangs up and I turn my attention back to the green eyed girl with the daring smirk.

"Why are you so excited?" I question. Unamused.

"What? I can't be supportive of my friend getting laid?" She sways back and forth on the heels that no longer seem to cause her pain.

"Who said anything about that?" I hiss quietly.

"Oh, please," she leans against me, her heels giving her enough height that her lips reach by ears, "he doesn't want to wait to see you. He wants to meet at your place where no one's home. You two haven't seen each other in a whole week. I'd say he has something planned." She pulls back with her hands clasped behind her back.

"You people are way to concerned with my sex life," I grumble; nerves now igniting like little fire crackers through my body.

But she shrugs and ends up downing the rest of my drink. "Well, I'm going to help you get out of here so you can see your friend, so you should be grateful."

"How?"

She links our fingers together, "We'll leave the party like this. And I'll just go upstairs and cry to my dad to take me home because I don't feel good."

"You'd think he'd go for that?"

"I'm his baby girl, he does whatever I want." She sounds assured and it's hard to argue with her.

But I look at our linked fingers, "You said you didn't want to...be responsible for keeping my secret?"

She swings our arms back and forth. Also resting her gaze on our hands before quickly scanning the basement for any unwanted guests. The roaring laughter over a barrier for our voices to speak in hushed tones without the risk of being heard. Though the uneasiness still existed and I'm not sure if this is the best place to discuss these details.

But she begins, "You know, when my mom began seeing Elmyra, the neighbors started rumors. And they weren't nice about it. She almost ended things, just to protect me from what other people were saying, even though El makes my mom so happy. She's more confident with El. She smiles more. She even co-parents better with my dad. It's amazing how much of a positive influence El is for my mom- and for me. I can't imagine my life without her. She's like a big sister and second mom rolled into one; and stupid rumors from stupid people almost ended that."

She pauses. Our arms coming to a slow stop. She brings her eyes to me and takes a harsh breath. "There's been rumors about you…"

And I feel my own body evaporate. That's the only way to explain it- like it ceased to exist. Or I'm floating down the deepest part of the ocean. And the pressure crushes my bones into dust. I open my mouth to say something but stitch it shut immediately.

She takes notice, and makes another sweep of the room with her eyes, before returning to me. "Rumors about the two of you had started up," she whispers, "that you are close."

I think about my conversation with Reno after we first kissed.

How his parents can't, under any circumstances, find out.

And how quickly rumors spread through this school.

"But," she continues, "those rumors have stopped once rumors started spreading about you and me. That we maybe getting back together, and now," she nods over to disembodied sounds, "I think they may feel pretty convinced that the shit that comes out of their mouths is true."

"That's not fair," I respond, feeling a sense of guilt for dragging her into this situation. Something she never asked for- something she stumbled into one day and because of her naturally caring demeanor, decided to help. "you even said you didn't want to be this…"

Aerith waves me off with her free hand, "Cloud. I don't. Trust me. But….what's the worst outcome with rumors about us? We become the ridiculous on-again-off-again couple who never know what they want," she squeezes my hand, her voice softens, "but for you...rumors like that can lead to violence. And...I don't want either of you hurt."

She releases my hand and immediately wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me into another one of her warm hugs. I return the gesture. I note that she smells like pomegranates. And that her embrace feels like a million daisies caressing my skin. Like springtime. And she doesn't belong in this toxic basement with these devils.

And she brings her lips to my ears again, and her voice prickles against my skin. "Sephiroth was right about one thing. You are the better person. You're a good guy, Cloud, underneath everything you put up to guard yourself from others. And I always saw it in you, and I know Reno does too." She pulls away, her face inches from mine, "And if it makes you feel better, I have my own selfish reasons for wanting to leave. So you'll be helping me out too."

I tilt my head, "Oh? You're trying to get laid too?"

I expect a rough hit across the back of head, but instead she flashes a bashful smile as her cheeks turn as read as her dress. "No! But someone wants to come over and give me a New Years kiss and I ...kinda want him to, so. The quicker we leave, the quicker we get to enjoy the rest of our night. Sound good?"

I nod despite the guilt. But her smile is genuine. Warm like the sun. And I feel undeserving. But she takes my hand and links our fingers together and we head upstairs without another word to the group of enemies in the corner. Though I feel their eyes burn into us- like matches waiting to ignite.