Chapter 23: Tabloid Trauma

Genesis knocked on Angeal's locked door with as much delicacy as he had earlier at Sephiroth's, which is to say, he banged loudly enough to be mistaken for one of Scarlet's war machines battering down fortified concrete walls.

"Angeal, I know you're in there!" he yelled. "Open up!"

Sephiroth shifted the newspaper under his arm and glanced around. He thought it a wonder that no one else even poked their heads out of their own apartments to see what was going on, but Genesis's voice was quite recognizable and they probably didn't want to get involved. Kind of like how people avoided an active crime scene.

Genesis banged some more, until finally they heard signs of life in the apartment.

"Come on, open the door!" Genesis called.

"No!" Angeal bellowed back, voice only slightly muffled by the barrier between them. "Go away!"

"You can't stay holed up in there forever!"

"I'm not coming out! I'm never leaving this apartment again!"

"I guess he knows." Sephiroth shook his head, fished fifty gil out of his wallet and handed it to Genesis. He should have known better than to take that stupid bet.

"Told you so," Genesis remarked, folding the notes and putting them into a pocket. "He's predictable that way." He swiped his keycard through the scanner. "Fortunately, we don't have to rely on him to open the door. All that noise was just for courtesy before we barge in."

"That was courteous?"

"If we act too nice and sympathetic he'll take it the wrong way," Genesis said. "Best thing to do is keep it normal."

The lock pinged and granted access, the door opened, and Genesis immediately waltzed in like he owned the place. "We're here. Now stop being such a baby, will you?"

Angeal was sitting in the middle of his couch, head in his hands, elbows on knees, and a dispirited slump to his entire posture. He was still in his uniform sweater and trousers, but the rest—pauldrons, stomach guard, double belts, boots, sword harness—lay scattered on the floor. Despite the uncharacteristic lack of concern he'd given his armor, the Buster Sword had been carefully replaced in the wall mount.

At least he hadn't punched any holes in the walls or broken the furniture, Sephiroth thought but had sense enough not to speak aloud. He closed the door.

At his friends' grand entrance, Angeal looked up. "I told you to go away, not break in."

"We didn't give each other door access to just stand outside yelling and not break in," Genesis said airily, kicking a belt aside and coming to stand before him.

"That was for emergencies, you two—"

"Pffft, like we've ever worried about that before."

"This qualifies, I believe," said Sephiroth, carefully picking his way through the armor obstacle course and settling down next to Angeal. He placed Genesis's copy of The Midgar Mirror on the coffee table, next to the abandoned gloves, a PHS, and the crumpled pages of the same tabloid already there.

Angeal groaned and dropped his head back into his hands.

Tentatively, Sephiroth put a hand on his friend's slumped shoulder as he'd seen others do as a form of comfort. It didn't feel alien, probably because he'd known Angeal for so many years. "It's really not that bad. Most people will consider it nothing more than the usual tabloid fiction. Only obsessed fools will believe any of it."

The muffled whimper that leaked through Angeal's fingers told Sephiroth that his attempt at logical solace had failed. He moved his hands to his own knees.

"There are an awful lot of crazy obsessed fools in the world, Sephiroth," Genesis said matter-of-factly.

"Don't help," Sephiroth hissed at him.

Angeal muttered into his hands, "Veld tried to warn me."

"Yes, you told us," said Sephiroth.

"I didn't take it very seriously." Angeal finally lifted his head and dropped his hands into his lap. "I mean, that magazine had a small circulation. It's not like it was one of the big famous ones. And when Veld told me to prepare myself the other day, I didn't really believe it would go this far or that anyone except maybe the fan club would even care that much. I mean, who's that interested in me? I'm boring. You two are the big media draws."

"You underestimate yourself," Genesis told him, coming to sit down on Angeal's other side and throwing an arm across the sofa back behind him. "You're the face of all those honor and pride promotions for SOLDIER."

"So what? No one cares about those."

"Obviously someone did. The tabloids have probably been frustrated by your good behavior for a long time now. C'mon, this story's just toppled you from a stupid, unrealistic pedestal, that's all. It's nothing, just titillation and scandal."

Another whimper escaped Angeal, this one unobstructed by fingers. His eyes clenched shut.

"I told you not to help," Sephiroth muttered at Genesis, who actually stuck out his tongue at him. To Angeal, he asked, "What did Lazard have to say about it?" He hadn't heard a word from Lazard, himself.

"Not much," Angeal stated, opening his eyes to stare at the wall. "Just called me yesterday to verify what Veld told him, and then told me to stay out of it and let the Turks handle everything."

"That sounds like good advice. The Turks took care of it before," Sephiroth said approvingly. "Very efficiently, it seems, since they all but eradicated every trace. They'll take care of it again with equal thoroughness. This will go away."

"How? Last time it wasn't worldwide headline news!"

Sephiroth couldn't answer that, but then, he wasn't a Turk. They knew what they were doing. He was certain they'd fix it.

Genesis frowned and offered, "Here's an idea. You could talk to a legitimate news source and tell your side, if you're worried about salvaging your reputation. A story about how you only did it to help your parents pay the bills would go over well with the public. It sounds so selfless and self-sacrificial. People eat that crap up."

"No, don't do that," cautioned Sephiroth, who'd had more than enough interaction with the PR and Propaganda Department to recognize a terrible idea when he heard one. "You know it'll backfire and give the tabloids more ammunition. It might even encourage them to look for more ways to discredit you and use worse smear tactics. Wait for the Turks to tell you the next step."

Angeal nodded silently.

Sephiroth leaned behind Angeal and mouthed at Genesis with exaggerated emphasis: "Stop helping!"

"Spoilsport," Genesis huffed. He took out his PHS. "I'm calling for takeout. How about Mideel Islands comfort food?"

"I'm hungry, too," Sephiroth admitted. He listened incredulously to the long list of selections Genesis made: pork with apple topping, whitefish and tropical fruit curry, sweet and sour ham with citrus, avocado and shrimp salad, steamed rice, a vegetable and noodle dish, and chilled vanilla custard with fruits that he'd never heard of before.

"That's comfort food?" It all seemed too elaborate to qualify. He'd always thought comfort food was supposed to be simple and homey. Not that he really had much experience to judge.

"For Gen's family," Angeal told him. "It was special occasion food for mine, and not nearly so many different types. We'd have just a main dish, a side or two, and a dessert, tops."

Seph nodded. That made more sense, given what he knew of his friends' different backgrounds.

"My treat," Genesis said grandly. "It'll distract you from all the drama."

"Trauma, you mean," Angeal muttered.

"You know, you said before that you were proud of yourself back then for getting picked as the centerfold."

"When I was fifteen! I was easily impressed at that age."

Sephiroth said, trying to be supportive, "But you did use your earnings to help support your parents. Quite honorable, really, just like Genesis said."

"So has that changed only because a tabloid outed you?" Genesis asked pointedly.

"No, not really..." Angeal trailed off, gazing at his sword again. His jaw worked, and Sephiroth could hear his teeth grinding together.

"I'm sure Shinra's PR can spin it into something grand," Genesis said. "It really does sound self-sacrificial. Who cares if the world knows since you did it for your family, right?"

"It's not just the world, Genesis!" Angeal burst out. "Bad enough everyone from here to Icicle Inn will be gossiping. But now my mom will find out about it! I never wanted her to know, let alone see that damned picture!"

Sephiroth and Genesis stared at him.

"That's what all this is about?" Sephiroth asked. "Your mother?"

"It's not just my mom, it's just that...well, that just seems like the worst part right now, is all." Angeal again buried his face in his hands. "Explaining to her. It's all I can think about."

Genesis shook his head. "Of course. Your mom. I hadn't thought of that. For Minerva's sake."

Sephiroth held his tongue rather than say something clumsy. Angeal had never been concerned much with publicity as long as he was viewed as skilled and competent. Genesis had been correct: Angeal had never before experienced the full tsunami of tabloid vitriol directed at him. Having the whole world prioritizing his...assets...over his prowess as a SOLDIER would distress him. He was providing ample evidence of that. Not to mention how it might affect his sense of personal honor, which had always been a point of pride for him for as long as Sephiroth had known him.

Despite what Angeal might claim, he did care about what the world thought of him. As for what his mother would think of him, well, Sephiroth had no more experience with that than he did with Mideel Islands comfort food. He'd met Gillian Hewley a few times before and liked her, even felt strongly drawn to her. He wished he'd known her when he had been younger. He might have appointed her his honorary mother, since his own was long gone.

He knew for certain that the nature of her approval or disappointment would be completely dissimilar to Hojo's, who was his only real reference point for quasi-parental opinions. Sephiroth could easily predict how Hojo might respond, but he had no idea how Gillian Hewley would react to this particular revelation about her son.

Genesis, despite having been told not to help several times already, decided to help again. He snatched up Angeal's PHS from the table and held it out. "We can't do anything about the world, but there's only one way to handle the problem of your mom. Call her and explain."

"Call her?" Angeal's head snapped up, his face wearing an expression of disbelief and shock that had both his friends snorting in amusement.

"Call her," Genesis repeated in a sing-song tone. He waggled the phone enticingly, as though luring a pet with a shiny toy. "It's not too late in the evening in Banora. There's only a four hour time difference. She'll still be awake. You know it'll be better if she hears it from you. Honestly, Angeal, what are you worried about? She's seen you naked before."

"Not as an adult! And definitely not in a dirty magazine!"

"Not gonna call her yourself?"

"No!"

Genesis got up and moved across the room, deftly maneuvering around the discarded armor on the floor. "Okay, then." He started dialing Angeal's phone.

Seeing this, Angeal jumped up. "Don't you dare!" He lunged at Genesis, defeated only because he fell over the coffee table in his rush. He cursed.

Genesis dodged farther away towards the opposite wall. "Slow him down for me, Seph!" he urged, then immediately quieted to listen as the ringing stopped and a woman's voice said, "Hello?"

"Hi, Mrs. Hewley. It's Genesis."

Angeal froze, hands still braced on the coffee table, staring in horror at Genesis. Sephiroth, whose only experience with childish squabbles was with Genesis and Angeal, also went still. He had done nothing but watch, amused, as he debated whether he should interfere as Genesis had requested or just let his friends battle it out. Now it was too late for Angeal to protest further, so no decision or action was required.

Three pairs of enhanced ears heard the reply over the phone. "Genesis?" asked Mrs. Hewley, a hint of concern in her voice. "This is Angeal's number. What's going on? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Genesis said. "There's nothing to worry about. He just wants to talk to you, that's all." He grinned like a fiend and stepped back into assault range, holding the phone out to Angeal like a sacrificial offering. "The arrow has left the bow of the goddess. Here you go, my friend."

"Former friend," Angeal grumbled. He hopped over the coffee table, snatched the PHS and put it to his ear. "Hi, Mom." He rubbed his forehead and turned away.

Sephiroth and Genesis didn't even make a pretext of giving him privacy. Both leaned in, eavesdropping shamelessly.

"Hi, sweetheart," Gillian Hewley said. "Your voice sounds kind of funny. You aren't getting ill, are you?"

Angeal raked his free hand through his hair, stopping at the back of his head. He gripped a clump and tugged, then let it go and dropped his hand helplessly. "No, Mom, I'm not sick. I guess... Mom, Momma...um...you need to know something..."

"Honey?"

"Just spit it out, you wimp," Genesis stage-whispered. Sephiroth couldn't stop the small snicker that escaped him. Angeal turned his head enough to glare at them both and walked into the kitchen.

Sephiroth and Genesis could still hear the entire conversation. Even if Angeal had gone into the bedroom and barricaded himself from them, they wouldn't have missed a word. They'd have pressed their ears against the door if necessary. Angeal knew it, too, which was probably why he didn't try to hide in another room or go out into the hall.

"Sit down, Genesis," Sephiroth murmured, "and shut up so he won't be so rattled."

Genesis reluctantly complied.

"Genesis is right. You need to just tell me whatever it is," Gillian's voice came from the receiver. Sephiroth could practically hear her grin as she said, "Spit it out, kid." She went quiet again, and a second later added, "Although, if it's, well, I was going to call you tomorrow, anyway...You go first and we'll see if we're on the same page." And her voice trailed off, sounding less amused than before.

Angeal sighed, and took several deep breaths. He visibly braced himself and said, "Fine. Mom, have you seen the latest issue of The Midgar Mirror in Banora yet?"

Sephiroth strained his ears but only heard silence on the line. After a few seconds, Gillian said quietly, "Honey, everyone's seen it. That's what I wanted to talk about, too. The newspaper's not available here yet, but it's online. I'm so sorry that happened to you. I know you wanted to keep it secret. Do you have any idea how the Mirror found out?"

She didn't sound surprised about the centerfold itself, just that it had made front page news on the most notorious tabloid on three continents. Sephiroth exchanged a startled glance with Genesis.

Evidently, Angeal had picked up on Gillian's lack of surprise, as well. "Mom...?" he said, sounding a little lost. "You knew about the, um, the picture of me already?"

"Ange, sweetheart, of course we knew. We were just sorry that—"

"Wait a minute," Angeal interrupted her. "We? Did Dad know, too? Why didn't either of you ever tell me you knew about it?"

"Angeal," Gillian said very patiently, "calm down. Yes, your father knew. We both did as soon as that silly magazine came out all those years ago. You think none of our neighbors read those things? There was one nasty biddy who disliked us—me, really—and made sure I knew about it, though she's long gone now."

"Gone?"

"They, uh, they—her family—they moved away."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes with suspicion. He detected a note of tension in her voice, but it seemed Angeal didn't notice it because he only asked, "So how'd you find out this time?"

Gillian uttered a small laugh. "Like I said, sweetie, it's online."

Angeal actually cringed. "Oh, Gaia...yeah, I knew that, I just didn't think...I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry for being such an embarrassment."

"Angeal, honey, I could never be embarrassed by you. Never. There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

"But, I've caused such shame now—"

"Please, sweetheart, just hear me out. We—your father and I—we were never embarrassed or ashamed of you, not ever. We were only sorry that you felt you needed to go that far to help us out. We never wanted you to feel so..." she hesitated. "Well, like you needed to take care of us. It was our job to take care of you, and we just felt like we'd failed you, though we were also proud that you had such a strong sense of responsibility even at fifteen. We were very proud of you, Angeal, please understand that."

"You never mentioned it in all these years."

"Of course not. You'd have told us if you wanted us to know. We respected your privacy, sweetie."

"I— I just don't know what to say."

"Nothing needs to be said. I still respect your privacy. I haven't breathed a word to anyone about the circumstances. You just decide what you want people here to know, and that's what I'll say to anyone who inquires. All right?"

"Awww, Mom, I..." Angeal drew in a deep breath and finally sat down at the tiny kitchen table. "Thank you, Mom. When we get it figured out here, I'll let you know."

"Is Genesis helping you out?"

"Yeah, and Sephiroth, too. They're both here right now."

"Oh, dear. Both of them. That should certainly make your life interesting." She actually giggled. Sephiroth couldn't decide if he was offended or not. Genesis's irritated scowl and rolling eyes indicated that he most definitely was.

Sephiroth had to admit, though, that Gillian Hewley wasn't wrong about his and Genesis's involvement so far.

"They're moral support," Angeal stated, defending his friends to his mother's further merriment.

"I know, I know. Don't get me wrong. They're both fine young men and good friends to you. They just aren't very...practical." And she giggled again.

Angeal let out a short huff of laughter. "True enough. I'm just glad to have them around." Sephiroth smiled and Genesis actually preened and mock-dusted off his shoulders. Angeal went on, "They don't need to be practical, anyway. The Turks are taking care of the problem."

"The Turks?" Her amusement evaporated, replaced by wariness with a touch of outright fear.

"It's okay, Mom," Angeal hurried to reassure her. "They cleaned up the magazine last time Shinra thought it was a problem. Veld—he's the head of the Turks—he's informed me that they'll take care of everything."

"Be very careful around them," Gillian cautioned with dreadful seriousness. "Don't... Just don't do anything to upset them. Be careful around them and do exactly what they say."

"Sure, Mom."

"I mean it."

Angeal had to agree a few more times before she was appeased. The conversation settled down and drifted into more conventional family matters. Sephiroth was by no means uninterested in normal, mundane, conventional family life and conversations. He noted even Genesis was following the phone call with a wistful expression. When it came to normal family relationships, they both lived vicariously through Angeal. It was kind of pathetic, but Sephiroth couldn't help himself, and it looked like neither could Genesis.

They would have happily continued to eavesdrop had there not been a knock on the front door.

"It can't be dinner," Sephiroth said to Genesis, keeping his voice hushed so he wouldn't distract Angeal from his talk with his mother. No unauthorized personnel were allowed beyond the reception desk. The delivery person would be stopped there and have to call for someone to come down and retrieve the meal.

Despite his attention being divided between Sephiroth and the kitchen where Angeal still lurked, Genesis managed to check his own PHS and reply, "Nope, they haven't called yet. Wonder who it is?"

"Let's find out, shall we?" Sephiroth got up and went to the door.

Upon opening it, he found himself face to face with the Head of the Department of Administrative Research—AKA Veld of the Turks. A somewhat surprising development.

Veld looked just as surprised to see him.