The doors to a 24-hour convenience store slide open and out comes Cloud who's holding a plastic bag full of canned beers.

He's ambling to the left direction, across more rows of corporate buildings when his phone vibrates in his trouser pocket.

Someone just sent him a text message.

Boss: Guess what I'm making for tonight

He smiles and downloads the images that follow the text.

Cubes of curry. Onions and carrots in small chunks. Diced potatoes. Breadcrumbs. Round eggs. A bag of flour. Uncut chicken breasts.

He's proud to say that he has enough skills in the kitchen to know what the end product of these ingredients would likely be.

You: Fried chicken cutlets with curry

A voice note arrives, which blares Zack's voice when he plays it: "Ding Ding Dinggggg, one point for Cloud Strife!"

He giggles, amused to find Zack as excited as he expected the man to be.

Savoury meals like curry are, after all, the man's favourite.

His thoughts drift to his own spice tolerance.

You: How spicy will the curry be?

Boss: Spiciest of spicy

You: But I like them mild

Boss: Weakass

Boss: Jk. I got us the mildest one just for you :)

Colour rises to his cheeks.

Zack has been incredibly doting to him lately than the man ever was and it's quite frankly embarrassing.

Then again, not going to lie… he likes the feeling.

Sex with Zack is still great.

But nowadays, he likes laying his head on Zack's chest and listening to the man's heartbeats better. And it seems like Zack does too by the number of times the man had initiated their cuddling sessions over sex.

The urge to see Zack again – even after spending the entire day with the man at work, cranks up his walking speed.

He's about to make a right turn towards the road that leads directly to Zack's place.

A figure walks out of the shadows and appears just a distance ahead of him.

His pace grinds to a halt.

Baked dough and cheese. Fried finger food. Hot garlic. Sweet sauces and sodas.

Cid's Pizzeria is where almost all good-smelling edible things are made.

A rock ballad blasting from the stereos is drowned by the noises from talking customers and servers shouting orders to the kitchen.

Cloud's hardly aware of the smell and sound around him.

His only focus is Aerith, who's sitting in front of him and doing her best not to make eye contact.

A waiter soon shows up, serving their orders onto the table. "Here's two pints of Bronco Beers."

The waiter hasn't even left them when she grabs a glass and downs half of it.

Cloud looks on, feeling further tensed than he already was.

She slams the glass back onto where it was and finally eyes him.

"Let go of him," she says, a demand laden with an air of finality.

"What?"

"Let go of Zack."

Cloud leans his back against his chair, arms linked on his chest. "And… why should I?"

"He's not yours."

"He's never yours either."

Resentment twists her face. "What do you mean?"

He scoffs. "Come on, Aerith. You and I know that he always fucks around."

He hears her breath quickens as she grows redder by the minute.

"But I am his girlfriend," she stresses, as if she's trying to remind him that she'll always be first above everyone else who fucked with – and still fucks with – Zack.

If this was several weeks or months ago, he would have shrunk.

He would have thought that she's right and that his words hold no weight against hers.

But today? He feels none of that.

"If you're so sure about… you and him, we wouldn't be here talking."

He waits for her comeback but minutes go by, and she has none.

Because they both know what he said is true.

She draws her hands onto her lap.

When her eyes start watering, she quickly looks down, probably at those hands.

"Why are you doing this?" she mumbles.

Cloud doesn't answer. It doesn't sound like she really wants an answer.

"Tifa…"

His nerves rattle at the mention of the name.

Why, of all times, is it slipping out of Aerith's mouth now?

Well, he's about to find out.

"Tifa's a great person," Aerith continues, slowly looking back at him again. "Why do you want to keep hurting her like this?"

He swallows.

The change on her face tells him that she found his weakness.

"I'm sorry but I don't want to keep pretending as if I don't know what's going on," she says, looking away like her mind's wandering to someplace else.

Alarm bells ring in his head.

"Aerith… what are you planning-"

"I'm going to tell her," she cuts him off.

"No, you won't…"

"I will," she insists. "I won't let this go on without her knowing. It's too unfair for her."

He almost flips the table upside down.

"If you don't want me to do it… then you'll have to do it. Someone has to. I'll give you time to admit to her… or you can just let Zack go and she doesn't have to know."

"Stop pretending like you care about her," he hisses.

Stop pretending like you're not using her against me to have Zack all to yourself, he wants to say.

Aerith shoots him a glare so sharp that he thought it would kill him.

"But I do care about her! I'm here because of her. She loves you. I wish that she doesn't but she loves you! And I can't-"

She covers her face with both of her hands and he hears her crying once more.

When she uncovers her face… looking at her feels like he's looking at himself.

There's a familiar sense of confusion in her eyes.

Crazy.

Maybe, Zack's right all along… about her and Tifa.