HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY

Insult, vulgarity, mention of sex.

NDLA: uncorrected text

Written for entertainment purposes, please don't steal it (although I don't think it's worth it.)


November 2009

I'm walking around in circles in this flat, while my old record player didn't seem to want to jam, despite the time passed. I could feel the alcohol stinging my throat, but what tugs at me more is the thought of you not wanting to leave me. Of us. What we could have been. What was taken from us, what we have become, what we will become. What we're going to become, eh? I take another drink, the rain has started to fall earlier than expected on Edge. It's the weather remnants of the meteor, you, it never shocked you; you knew that trio of SOLDIERS you called your friends.

I was always jealous of two of them, while I was delighted with your headaches with the last one. Do you remember? You always went off at the drop of a hat, throwing back your long, thinning black hair on the bottom. You always thought it was deformed compared to the rest of your mane. Did you finally accept it? I think that's the least of your worries.

You've got a lot more on your shoulders than whatever hair colour you've got. Although I've always liked the hair contrast between you and me. You have, and may still be one of my only emotional counterbalances. You're calm, impassive when it comes to something you have to do, you're never afraid. You did the job, but Rudo often pointed out that you didn't necessarily like it.

Don't worry, there's so much I don't like about this job. But I belong to the Shinra. For the rest of my life. You know that, I'm doomed.

So are you, Mera. You have been since you were born. It runs in your family.

I still remember Tseng telling me the story of your family tree, you all work for the Shinra, for Shinra. You can't do anything else. No one dared to leave, until that bastard Sephiroth decided to have a late teenage meltdown. You'd slap me if you heard me, you hate it when I insult him. You hate it. Even when it was mentioned to you in the office, at work, you turned away when you couldn't leave. If you knew how much I didn't want to hurt you, Mera. I wouldn't. I'd have been forced to if it was necessary.

I can't sleep, Mera.

I'm sick of it. Get the fuck out of my head.

I take another drink, the old school jazz reminds me of the few nights we used to spend listening to the best classical music. I always put on your favourites. You told me that the only time you listened to music as a kid was when Sephiroth stole a CD, and a walkman when you met in the labs, alone. I can't imagine that lunatic as having been a nice person. But according to you, he was. He was one of your best friends. You lost him too.

You lost everything.

Even yourself

Tell me where the hell we are.

The poor woman in my bed is restless, will she wake up? I don't want to face her. Cars pass through the streets of Edge, I hear the police circling the block. They must be chasing someone again. Are you here to watch him? I look for you in Midgar sometimes, but I don't see anyone who looks like you. It's impossible to have two like you, isn't it?

The sirens sound, and the rain hits my windows even harder, where my bed is stuck. I hope it's not a bloody storm again. I'm sick of walking on debris, and seeing the bodies of homeless people lying on the ground as if they were waiting patiently for someone to pick them up. My heart breaks every time, if you only knew. All because of our bullshit. I feel ashamed.

My birthday candles ended up in the corner of the room, along with the few pieces of gift wrap I left lying around. I'm sorry, Cassandra, but you're not the one I wanted for my thirtieth birthday. You're quite nice though.

I'm having another drink, I don't even know how many, I've had three bottles tonight. I didn't think I'd be this cheap on my birthday, but it sounded good on paper. I would have gone to a bar, but there's still some Geostigma contaminants we can't find. We're looking for them everywhere, but it looks like they'd rather end up dead and alone. Good for them, after all, you can't go against people's choices. I fight for others, not even for myself.

I turned thirty tonight, and I can say that I have lived well. No ? You'd say no, but you wouldn't think any less of yourself. You're so ironic, my poor woman, your very existence is. You are a vast illusion, after all. Just like those damn SOLDIERS that everyone in the company believed in for years.

... Sorry.

But you really piss me off, you know.

I'm coughing as I take a puff of low-cost nicotine sold by street vendors under the table, I can't blame them: I'm just as much a victim of that freak's descent into hell. I can't blame them: I'm just as much a victim of that freak's descent into hell. He and his pale copies. I've had enough, I've had enough, we've all had enough. I was at Lockhart's again yesterday. We buried the hatchet once and for all over dinner. I felt good, I was finally making progress.

Everything is finally coming together. I get up and sit next to Cassandra, trying not to put too much pressure on the mattress with my weight, I've lost a bit with the geostigmata crisis. We had trouble feeding for a while, even for us, for the President. You seemed fine when I saw you again, against the incarnates. I realized you hadn't been hit, I thanked the planet for that. Not gonna lie, I couldn't bear to lose you. Not because of your best fucking friend who blew the biggest gasket the universe has ever seen.

I'll admit it, Mera: I hate him. But I also hate Hewley and Rhapsodos. The only thing that made me feel better was knowing that you didn't really get along with the redhead. That bastard almost killed us all more than once, again. The ego of the SOLDIERS is beyond me.

Can't even sit in a chair without raving about his LOVELESS. Do you believe in this crap? I didn't believe it at first, but after Sephiroth… I didn't have much choice. I kiss Cassandra's shoulder, and she wakes up slowly. The blonde looks at me insistently with an air of "are you serious?" then abruptly changes her mind as she straddles me, without even a condom. You know what, Giswold? I don't give a shit. I don't give a shit at this point, all I care about is fixing everything we've done. Then I can leave quietly too.

And you, are you in the arms of a man?

… You know what? I don't want an answer.

Seeing Hewley's arms around your shoulders from time to time, instead of mine, still made me feel a certain rage. But then, on a carnal level, I wanted to kill some people on the President's list to compensate. I never understood how you could get so close to the most honourable and dreamy guy.

It was all a facade, Mera: TURKS have no honour. We do our job, with the pretence of doing it with a smile. It's just a beautiful mythology. You pretended to be able to have a "normal" life with best friends, colleagues, when in reality: we are just merciless killers. Are you still trying to change that?

I push Cassandra away, once our embrace is over, I cast my turquoise eyes on her; she disgusts me. She disgusts me. Why is that? She's just a normal woman, she's even very beautiful. Why am I disgusted?

I'm not going to be difficult, I'm not like that.

What the hell is that noise again?

Tibulting, with my shorts pulled up, I walk towards my doorstep cautiously, when I hear a loud "bang" behind my front door. The woman hides under the duvet as I tell her to stay put. I walk to the solid wooden board and move it with the handle.

But beyond all the enemies I've encountered.

These words have managed to knock me down, to make me cry.

"Happy birthday Reno.

M.G."