Starlight

by steshin

beta-ed by forgottendiary

Disclaimer: I do not own Macross Frontier.

Cathy Glass stared at the ceiling, the heady sensations of the alcohol swimming in her head. On her bed stand was a bottle of wine and a two wineglasses. One was half-empty and the other, unused. She had spent the whole evening waiting and drinking—much more on the latter.

An icy prickle of pain tingled in her head. She winced, touching her forehead. Her arms and legs felt like columns of goo and it felt as if something was weighing down on her chest, making it hard to get up. In short, it was a pain to move.

"…Damn you, Leon."

Her face wrinkled, thinking about her fiancé who never showed up for the dinner she had prepared.

Leon had called to tell her that he would be running late a few hours ago. Cathy seethed as she remembered the smooth voice on the phone. "Bastard," she growled.

The door opened. Cathy didn't move. She already knew who it was.

"Cathy," Leon closed the door soundly behind him, "sorry to keep you waiting."

Cathy didn't feel like talking to him, not in this state, so she pretended to be sleeping. She heard the rustling of clothes.

"I had to take care of some paperwork," she heard the rasp of his zipper, "you know how it is."

She heard him approach the bed, the carpet muffling his steps.

"I really do apologize." Cathy felt the mattress sink a bit, as Leon's weight came on to the other side of the bed.

"I hope you forgive me…"

Cathy didn't say anything.

"Ah…" His voice turned husky, "is that how it is…"

Cathy continued on pretending to be asleep—until she felt Leon's hand between her thighs.

---

"A what?"

"A get-together," Michel spoke on the line, "You, me, Luca and a bunch of our other comrades from the Quarter. You know, for old time's sake."

"Humph. You mean for my sake."

Michel sighed. "C'mon Alto, just do it. It's not like you have anything better to do."

Alto dug into his pocket and played with his pocket change while listening to Michel blabbing on his cell phone. Michel had bragged about being hired for a cool gig then sprung the surprise on him.

"Oh and there'll be a couple of new rookies! C'mon, we get to haze them, doesn't that sound fun?"

"You're grasping at straws here."

"Yeah, so spare me the embarrassment and say yes already."

Alto pretended to give it some thought before answering, "No, sorry. Can't come…"

Of course, Michel wouldn't buy it. "Yeah right, you just don't want to!"

"Duh."

"C'mon Alto! Please, you can just sulk the whole time while you're there just as long as you're seen with other people!"

"Michel, I'm hanging up…"

"Don't you dare!"

"I'm going to"—

"Fine, you've made me take out my trump card."

"Goodbye"—

"Ranka-chan is coming."

Alto didn't hang up.

---

Sheryl was reading the questions that would appear on her interview. Grace had given it to her earlier, saying that it was best to come prepared with the right answers in advance. When she asked Grace how she got hold of them, Grace just gave her a tender smile and said. "I have my ways; I just want everything to go perfectly for you."

"But how?"

"I have my connections. That's all you need to know. After all, aren't I your manager? Besides, we should have the upper hand not the interviewers. Wouldn't it be a nice turnaround? "

Her manager gave her a sweet smile before walking to the door. Then, remembering something, she spun around once more to Sheryl.

"Ah, and I picked up some new outfits for you. Try them on and pick what you want to wear for the interview. All from your favorite designers, fresh off the runway..." Grace regarded the singer with one last smile before disappearing behind the automated doors.

Sheryl sighed, placing the questions down, "Grace sure is something…I can't imagine what it would be like without her…"

But in reality, Sheryl could imagine. It made her shudder to think about it.

---

Alto hated karaoke. He knew Michel planned this little get-together for his sake, so why on earth did he choose to do something that he hated? Then again, this was just like Michel…

"Hey, Alto! Loosen up!" The micronized form of Lt. Klan barked at him. "And smile, damn it! You look like a Vajra that hasn't seen a mating season!"

"What an interesting choice of words, Klan." Michel teased poking the child-like loli micron on the cheek.

Klan's face raged red, "Michel, you!" What followed was the usual chase game between the lieutenant and the sniper with cheers and laughter surrounding them. Alto couldn't help but smile a little. These idiots haven't changed… His smile fell when he realized how he was the only one who had changed for the worse.

He had changed…

Some people may not be able to see it, but those who knew him could see how he wasn't the same man after what had happened. He was fighting the guilt that continued to consume him everyday. It haunted him every night, making sleeping a difficult task. When he did sleep, he was plagued by nightmares that wouldn't leave him alone.

Alto was too lost in his thoughts that he didn't pay heed to the bad singing and noisy chatters going around him. He did however perk up when the booth's door opened and a certain green-haired girl, who was his purpose for accepting the invitation in the first place, stepped in.

"Ah, Ranka-chan!" Michel greeted with glee while trying to shake Klan off his leg. "Glad you could make it."

Ranka acknowledged the greetings directed at her with a polite nod while her eyes searched the small crowd. She stopped when she met Alto's eyes. The noise faded away.

Alto surmised that Ranka had the same reason as him for coming.

---

"I want you to stop it, Alto-kun..." Ranka spoke in a soft voice. She wouldn't look him in the eyes. They were outside of the booth room. Ranka had excused herself to the ladies' room shortly after she had arrived. Alto knew that was an excuse for something else, a sign for him to do the same so they could have a little talk.

"Ranka, what are you"—

She shook her head violently, "I'm tired of you always checking up on me! I'm not a little kid!" Her words trembled from her mouth, eyes glazing wet.

"Look, Alto-kun. I know it must have been hard on you…it still is, isn't it?" Her body began shaking. Alto could only stay on his spot, frozen, unsure of what to do. Ranka looked so small and so fragile, as if the slightest touch could break her…

"Alto-kun, I want to move on…" she whispered. "But it's hard when you…" The tears were choking her.

"Ranka…" He held out a hand, but that was just it. He made no further actions. He could only watch her break down.

"You keep reminding me of the past when all I want to do is forget about it!" She was crying openly, her pained eyes stabbing his soul with accusation. Alto could feel her pain. It was so much stronger than his. And it made him sick in the stomach to know that she was suffering like this—all because of him. It was his fault…

---

Michel watched sadly as Alto fumbled with the keys to his door. The sniper had hoped that Alto would be able to find closure if he had met up with Ranka. Alto always sent letters and emails to the girl; but never did he contact her personally. Judging from Alto's zombie-like state, Michel concluded that it wasn't a good idea after all. He would never play doctor again—outside the bedroom that is.

"Alto"—

"I've had enough, Michel…"

Michel gritted his teeth. "What happened wasn't your fault"—

"It was!"

"Damn it! You made a mistake but that was only because"—

"Michel, I've had enough!"

Michel rushed forward and took a hold on Alto's collar. "Just stop it, Alto! Let it go already!" He began shaking him, trying to get sense into him. "I'm sorry it happened! We're all sorry! But don't take full responsibility for everything!" He pushed Alto against the door. "I want you to stop it, Alto!"

"I want you to stop it, Alto-kun..."

Ranka's words echoed inside his head.

"You keep reminding me of the past when all I want to do is forget about it!"

The image of Ranka crying flashed through his mind, her eyes leaking tears, staring at him…

Alto let out a howl of pain and pushed Michel with all his strength. His friend fell down with a loud thud, his glasses falling off.

Alto hastily opened his door and locked it as soon as he got in. He slumped down on the floor, his back sliding down the cool wood. The door vibrated with Michel's pounds.

"Alto!"

He ignored his friend's knocks and threats of breaking in and headed into the living room. He threw himself on the couch. He could still hear Michel. It wouldn't be long before the neighbors reprimanded him. Alto grabbed the remote on the floor and decided to block out Michel's noise with TV.

He switched on to a random channel.

The remote dropped.

"I'm the kind of woman who will do anything to reach my goal…"

"Alto! For the millionth time, it was never your fault!"

"…I make my own destiny."

"It was someone else's!"

"That is how I became the person I am."

"Alto!"

"That is why I'm…"

"ALTO!"

"Sheryl. Sheryl Nome."

Alto stared into the TV screen. Everything around him vanished except for the TV screen.

He saw nothing else.

He heard nothing else.

Only the voice of the young woman who spoke of destiny as if she possessed control over it…