(Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy or its characters. This is just for fun.)
Rinoa stomped around her apartment barely missing Angelo's wagging tale.
"What are you thinking?" Rinoa demanded over her phone while her breathing became shaky.
"Who is this?" a smooth and deep voice answered. He knew exactly who it was. And it didn't take a top Galbadian general to figure out what this phone call was going to be about.
"You know who this is!" she said in the phone louder than she meant to. She wanted to yell, but she was trying to be civil. "I know you're worried about me, but this is too far," Rinoa said while pacing through her apartment. She wanted to keep quiet so Gladio wouldn't hear their conversation through the shared apartment wall. Not that General Caraway wouldn't share the relevant details with him later. "He's, he's..." Rinoa started, but she didn't know how to end the sentence.
"Gladiolus?" Caraway asked.
"Yes!" Rinoa said breathlessly like she'd just run a mile uphill. She went silent and tried to calm herself while she waited for her father to explain. She wanted him to say something to make her feel less intruded upon. Less like a little girl who needed a babysitter. The silence wasn't complete. Gladio was still playing rock music very loudly and it was going right through the apartment wall. She could feel the bass reverberating through her stomach, adding to her general feelings of queasiness.
"After you decided to leave Galbadia for the sunny shores of Balamb," her father began, "Gladiolus was inspired by your sudden streak of independence. He wanted to follow in your footsteps." She could hear a long exhale. He was probably smoking a cigar in his study again. The entire room was permeated by the aromatic and spicy smoke. Even thousands of miles away she felt like she could smell it. "You should be flattered." He paused and exhaled again. "You're a trendsetter."
Ha! Gladio wanted to follow Rinoa's lead? She doubted that Gladio would have nothing better to do with his life than to follow Rinoa's attempts to assert her independence. Maybe he'd get a job as a receptionist too. Maybe they'd become best friends. They were just two twenty-somethings trying to find their way in the world. They were just figuring out life while having fun. They could start a book club, lifestyle blog, or a cupcake cafe while they were at it too. Yea right.
"He wanted to follow in my footsteps?" Rinoa asked. "More likely that he was ordered to follow me," she said while her voice rose again. Gladio was much more likely to follow orders from the general than to go on a life-finding quest on a new continent.
Caraway let out a heavy sigh. His voice sounded old and tired. "It wouldn't hurt to have a familiar face in town, Rinoa. It's a hard world out there. You can never have too many allies." He hated how often he fought with his little girl. Didn't she realize he was just trying to protect her?
"Allies? I'm not at war here," Rinoa said. "I'm just trying to be normal. I'm trying to have a normal job."
"Couldn't you have been normal here?" Caraway asked. "Here?" he repeated with exasperation evident in his voice. The implication that he meant here where I can easily keep an eye on you was heavy in the air. This was a turn of conversation they'd had many times before.
"I wanted to do it on my own," Rinoa said. "I can do it on my own," she said with false confidence.
Or I can at least try, she thought.
"You can do it on your own," Caraway said. Rinoa lifted her dark eyebrows in shock. "With Gladio nearby," he added. "We'll keep in touch," he said while abruptly ending the call.
Rinoa threw her phone down on her couch. Frustration was bubbling up through her throat and felt like it was choking her. It left a taste in her mouth, and it tasted bad.
"Blech," Rinoa said to nobody but her dog and mostly empty apartment. Angelo lifted her doggy head and stared directly into Rinoa's eyes. Brown eyes met brown eyes. She felt like the dog knew her distress and was sympathetic. They had a strong bond. They understood each other on a deep and emotional level.
Rinoa really needed some human friends.
Her stomach growled.
And she needed some food too.
She hurried to the kitchen and threw open the freezer door in search of comfort. She eyed a half empty carton of vanilla chocolate swirl ice cream. It wouldn't soothe her like a friend would, but that was all she had at the moment. And that was something. She reached in and grabbed it before she sought out a spoon. She was low on friends at the moment, but at least she had some spoons in her apartment. Somewhere. She stuck her hand into a kitchen drawer and started pushing cutlery around, trying to unearth a spoon. She'd add buying a utensil sorter to her to-do list. After a few moments of digging around in her messy drawer, she found a clean spoon. Success. Her imaginary to-do list was once again forgotten.
She trudged over to her couch and plopped down with her ice cream. She dug in and took a big scoop up to her face. It towered precariously on her relatively tiny spoon as it was nearly the size of an ice cream cone scoop. It looked like the rest of the ice cream carton was going to become her dinner. She started licking the ice cream, avoiding the vanilla swirls and going straight for the chocolate. This was an emotional emergency, and vanilla, although nice, wasn't going to cut it.
Too bad this is just vanilla chocolate swirl, and not triple chocolate, chocolate chunk, Rinoa thought to herself. Maybe I have a chocolate bar in the pantry I could add to this. She didn't. She'd eaten it up the other day, but she'd forgotten about it.
The creamy chocolate ice cream melted on her tongue. She savored the sweet smoothness for a second before going for another lick. Her mind momentarily cleared while she shut her eyes and smiled to herself. This was a nice distraction. Her tense shoulders started to relax as she continued to eat. Everything was going to be fine. She'd try to remember to get more ice cream the next time she went to the grocery store. She was running out of her "staples." Her staples being chocolate, chocolate ice cream, and maybe some real food to make a meal. She had to eat a balanced diet, right?
"Hey, what do you do around here for dinner?" Gladio called through the wall, startling Rinoa and causing the big scoop of ice cream to fall off her spoon and plop right into her lap. She stared in shock and horror at the cold and wet ice cream scoop that was quickly soaking into her pant leg.
Rinoa blinked. There was a sticky chocolate puddle forming on her leg. She wanted to scream. She wanted to jump off the couch. She wanted to go somewhere, anywhere just to get away from this. But she didn't have any other place to go other than work. And she couldn't go there until the next morning.
She couldn't believe she was looking forward to going back to her boring job.
"Hey, can you hear me or not?" Gladio called again. He knocked on the wall twice to see if she'd respond. "Hey?" Another knock.
Instead of a scream, a small whimper escaped her chocolate smeared lips.
Rinoa wrapped her coat around herself tighter and kept her head down. She just wanted to get to work without any trouble. A black and glossy car had been following her all the way from her apartment to the bus stop, then it followed the bus until she got off, and then it had been following her during her last walk to her workplace. It was disconcerting to say the least. If she didn't know who was doing it, she would have called the police.
The car edged nearer to her, breaking from its steady and sluggish pace. The motor rumbled quietly, but she didn't turn to look. Anger boiled up inside of her, readying itself to break free.
"Hey, I would've given you a ride," Gladio called, not deterred by her purposeful ignoring of him. He figured Rinoa would be like this. Her father had always referred to her as 'difficult.' Gladio didn't know if that was a fair assessment, but he wasn't about to go up against General Caraway. He was a high ranking and respected military man. Gladio also didn't really know Rinoa on a personal level. They'd never been particularly close, but he didn't know why she would be 'difficult.' Her father had rank, connections, and money. Rinoa could have used all of that to her advantage happily. He didn't know why she was wasting away in a little place like Balamb.
"I didn't need a ride," Rinoa answered with her face scrunched up in anger as she turned towards him finally. "I've got a bus pass." She hoped she wouldn't cry angry tears on her way to work.
Gladio snorted when she said bus pass. "Okay princess."
Rinoa bristled at being called 'princess.' It wasn't that she was against the concept of princesses. Actually she'd grown up loving fairy tales and princesses when she was little. She'd loved the imaginative magic, dashing adventure, and fated romance. Not to mention dressing up in frilly pink dresses and plastic tiaras. But that was before her safe and happy home life had rotted away and she discovered that 'happily-ever-afters' were just for fictional people in storybooks.
And to be honest, she knew that when people called her 'princess,' they were really meaning, 'spoiled brat.' That was an image she was trying to shed. She was trying to make an new image for herself. A new life as an independent young woman.
Yes, fairytale princesses were just a phase that she'd grown out of a long time ago. Mostly. She still indulged in some sappy romances from time to time. And she still loved pink, it filled her with a feeling of uncomplicated happiness, but nobody needed to know that. She was a tough girl. She wore blue clothes and black combat boots sometimes. Tough.
"I'm going to work now," she said growled in her imitation of a punk rocker while gesturing in the direction in front of her. She was done with Gladio, and she hoped he was done with her too.
Gladio rolled his window up halfway.
Please go away. Please go away, she hoped in a high pitched mental scream.
"So you stay there. Don't follow me inside," she added out loud in a gruff voice.
Would he follow me inside? She thought in a panic.
"But of course, I won't follow you inside," Gladio said while finishing rolling up the window. Her stomach felt sick with hope for a long lingering moment before she saw Gladio and his monstrously fancy beast of a car drive away.
Rinoa let out a sigh of relief, but she kept her eyes trained on the black car until it disappeared down the next street. She hoped nobody had seen that. She didn't want anybody to know that her dad was paying her cousin to keep tabs on her.
This was all Caraway's fault.
Why did her dad treat her like a toddler?
Why?
Why?
Why?
She stomped her foot in irritation and wanted to cry.
Squall looked out the window again. It was 8:55 am and he had been keeping an eye out for Rinoa's arrival with mixed emotions. He wanted to see her because she livened his boring life. He wanted to see her because she was attractive. He wanted to see her because he was afraid that big burly man she called Angelo might have killed her over the weekend. That wasn't entirely likely, but he had seen police procedural shows before. That type of scenario wasn't unheard of. Domestic violence was a real threat to women.
But maybe he just wanted to see her fresh face and hear her sweet voice. He just wanted to forget that she was dating that rough and brawny man he'd seen in the park over the weekend. That guy was like a tattooed side of beef that was wearing pants.
He sat up straighter with a sudden thought. Maybe she'd dumped him over the weekend!
While he contemplated the probability of that having happened over the weekend, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and he turned to investigate. Rinoa was marching towards the building with her shoulders hunched together. A black car was following her. Squall didn't recognize the make or model of the car, but it looked foreign and expensive. Maybe it was even a custom, one-of-a-kind sort of car. Who would have a car like that in Balamb?
The driver's side window rolled down and he saw a shadowy figure within. Rinoa turned around abruptly and started arguing with the person. Squall squinted and he thought he could see somebody that looked like Angelo inside. At least he imagined that it could be Angelo.
If that was Angelo, it didn't seem that Rinoa was happy that he'd followed her to work. Maybe their relationship was on the rocks. But a negative to this could be that Rinoa was in danger. He hoped this guy didn't turn out to be a stalker or a homicidal maniac.
Squall saw Rinoa relax and turn back towards the building. The black car started driving away. Maybe Squall just had a very overactive imagination. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe that wasn't even Angelo in there, he didn't get a very close look at the person. Maybe somebody was just asking for directions and Rinoa was in a bad mood. Maybe she had a headache.
He always remembered his mother telling his father that she had a headache. It must be a mysterious women's thing that he was lucky to not be plagued by.
"Tsk, would you look at that car," Seifer said suddenly making Squall jump up in his seat slightly. Seifer was also drawn in by the unusual custom car that Squall was seeing. "What do you think a guy like that is trying to prove?" He walked over to where Squall was, unperturbed by his co-worker's lack of conversational skills. "I have more money than brains," Seifer said in an exaggerated voice. He became quiet for a few moments before saying, "Overcompensating for something," Seifer said with world weary finality that was topped off by a rude hand gesture.
Squall certainly hoped so.
The front door creaked open and loud clomping footsteps cascaded down the hallway.
"Ugh," Rinoa huffed as she threw down her tote bag next to her receptionist desk.
Seifer sauntered over to where Rinoa was angrily unwinding her scarf and wiggling out of her coat.
"And what's your problem this morning, Miss Receptionist?" Seifer asked.
She turned towards his face and was about to say something witty and snarky, except she couldn't think of anything. Her mouth just hung open while her brows knit together angrily.
"Did you almost get run over by the luxury behemoth-mobile out there?" Seifer asked.
"What!?" Rinoa asked in alarm while dropping her scarf on the floor. She'd hoped nobody had seen her outside with Gladio and that ostentatious car.
"Who in Balamb would have a car like that anyway?" Seifer asked, not waiting for Rinoa's reply. "It looked custom made, or at least so foreign I'd never seen it before. And I bet it was expensive. Maybe the guy who drives it is having a midlife crisis. Although he'd have to be a king to own a car like that. Or at least a mobster."
"Uh..." Rinoa said.
Seifer narrowed his eyes at her. "You were just outside Miss Receptionist. There is no way you didn't see it," Seifer said in disbelief. "The hubcaps themselves looked more expensive than Dincht's entire car."
"What'd you say about my car!?" Zell yelled from down the hall.
"I'm just discussing the strange luxury car that went by here, Dincht. Try to keep up, will you?"
Zell jogged into the main work area and approached one of the many windows that lined the front wall of the office. He stood up on his tiptoes and looked up and down the street. "Why didn't anybody call me?" he asked.
"It went by too fast," Seifer said. "But I'll immediately let you know if I see again." Seifer slicked his hair back with his hand. "Or not."
"You're just making this mystery car up," Zell complained. "I bet there wasn't anything out there at all. You just want to waste my time."
"Ask her," Seifer said. "She was right out there." He pointed straight at Rinoa.
Zell turned towards Rinoa. "Did you see it?" he asked cautiously, one eyebrow raising slightly.
Rinoa swallowed.
"I saw it," Squall said from the safety of his cubicle, breaking the tension that was building in the office. "It was just a car."
Rinoa let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Zell jogged over to Squall. "Was a mobster driving it?" Zell asked with interest.
"I didn't see who was in it," Squall answered. "It was just an expensive looking black car."
Squall wondered why Rinoa wouldn't say that she'd spoken with the person in the car. Was she a private person or was she hiding something?
"What is all this talk about mobsters?" Quistis asked as she strode into the office. She may have been the manager, but she was not immune to curiosity. "Are there dangerous looking people outside our building?" She felt personally responsible for the employees under her care.
"Irvine, maybe you should walk me to my car when work gets out," Selphie said.
"Sure thing honey buns," Irvine responded. "I always keep an eye out for all the little ladies."
"Never mind," Selphie said, "I'll take my chances with the mystery mobster man." She walked towards Rinoa's desk. "Or I can walk out in the parking lot with Rinoa after work. Safety in numbers."
"Are you all joking, or should I be worried?" Quistis asked in a stern tone while crossing her arms.
"It was just a car," Squall repeated.
"Maybe we should ALL walk out into the parking lot together after work," Selphie suggested. "Then we could caravan to some place and get some dinner. I haven't been to Applebee's in a long time. Who's with me?" She shook her fist in the air with a hearty enthusiasm that nobody responded to.
"Just a car," Squall said to nobody. Hoping it was true. Hoping Rinoa wasn't hiding something sinister. Hoping Rinoa was alright.
The office phone started ringing, signally that the workweek had officially started. Rinoa answered the phone while her coworkers chatted curiously in her midst.
"You still doing okay?" Gladio asked over the phone.
Rinoa slammed the phone down immediately.
Author's notes: Please read and review. I've been in a creative slump. Maybe some positive encouragement would help. Thanks.