49: Crash

The beefy security guard was wary of him, mostly because he was jittery. But at least he had a pass, which saved him from a whole lot of grief. "You gonna need a lift there son?" the guard grunted, holding out the laminated card. Cloud shook his head, "I think I'll walk." One of the guard's bushy brows rose. "Is this your first time in a studio, boy?"

If he were to say that he'd been here so many times that it was almost a routine, the guard would probably kick him out and revoke the studio pass. He dug his clammy hands into his jeans pockets and blew out mist. "Well yes...sir, it is. It's my first acting job," Cloud said as nervously as he could. The guard rolled his eyes at him and radioed for a golf cart. "If you ain't got a car then you better ride a cart, kid, or else you'll be late and then you'll be fired," the old man snorted.

"Oh… it's that tough, huh?" Cloud muttered, scanning the studios' façades.

"Yup. Anyway, here comes the cart. Off you go!"

Another security guard was driving the cart. "Which studio are you headed, blondie?" This guard was younger, appeared to be more laid back. Cloud lifted the corners of his mouth and told him that he had to be in studio 5. There were studio crews clustered around every building they zipped past. Some were creating their own personal nicotine-laced clouds, others were lugging around camera and equipment. Good Morning Midgar was filming one of its segments in the lot in itself. "Studio 5," the guard announced as he pulled to a stop. Cloud awkwardly clambered out of the cart and almost forgot to thank the man.

The huge building was painted cream, and there was a solitary red number 5 on the main door. He stood there, staring at the gigantic building, thinking, if he had gotten a standing role, then why did he have to show up here? Was Tifa already in the building, getting her make up done? If so, would he be able to meet her? If he met her, what would he say? Tifa help me this world has gone crazy?

Suddenly, Cloud heard a car screech to a stop and its horn going off. He turned around to look, only to find himself centimeters away from the grill of Genesis's R8. Beside the clearly pissed off rocker was the divine woman of his life, looking astronomically flustered. Cloud couldn't believe that he was seeing her in person now. The Tifa in this world was just as beautiful as the one back home. "Hey moron, will you move out of the driveway?" Genesis yelled. Cloud tore his eyes off her and scuttled out of the way. The bastard sneered at him but Cloud wasn't able to hear it due to the car's noise. Tifa did not spare him a second glance.

Well, so much for that.

He headed to the reception area, where he was led to the holding room. There were twenty-six other people walking around, reading the script, relishing on their one scene in the whole project. Cloud sat down and watched the minor character. He'd been cast as one of the poor characters who get killed in the action scene. No lines whatsoever.

"Action scene extras, to the make-up room please!" a PA shouted in the room, then immediately began talking quickly on his headset's lapel. Cloud and seven others left the room and followed the harried production assistant. 'She's in rare form today? What's her problem now? She has to be ready in ten, you hear me? Ten minutes!' the PA hissed as they filed into the make-up room.

Surprise, surprise! Tifa was sitting in the very same room, having her makeover. The tiny group gasped. The girl behind Cloud gawked openly at Tifa, quietly chanting, 'Ohmygod ohmygod' over and over again. But Cloud wasn't so happy to see the person leafing through his favorite poetry book.

"Genesis! What a surprise!" the PA exclaimed.

The redhead looked up from his book and smiled his service-smile. "Hello. I hope it's not a bother to have me on set today. I haven't anything to do so I decided to watch my girl."

"Oh, don't worry about it," the PA gushed.

Cloud tried to sneak his way to the group's very back, not wanting to be spotted by the current-world fiancé. But it was too late. "Well if it isn't the boy I almost ran over," the man said smoothly, his voice was well modulated and very scary. The group parted and looked at him with wide eyes. Cloud swallowed nervously, not wanting to be on the receiving end of the man's fury. "I, erm, uh, I…"

"What's that?" Genesis interrupted.

Cloud stared at his beat up canvas sneakers. "I'm sorry about that."

Genesis scoffed and said, "Next time pay attention to your surroundings."

Tifa now turned to look at their lot. "Yes, please be more alert. We wouldn't want to delay the filming, now would we?" She smiled her service-smile then turned back to staring at her reflection. Genesis turned his back to him now as well and was muttering to Tifa. She giggled. Cloud knew that the red haired snob had just insulted him.

"What are you doing? To the make-up stations!" the prod assistant bellowed.

As Cloud settled himself in the make-up station farthest from Tifa's, he found himself growing increasingly furious and frustrated.

"Oh aren't you just gorgeous?" the make-up artist cooed at him. She was olive-skinned and beautiful; she hadn't bothered to change out of her pajamas. "I'm Marisa." Cloud smiled humbly at her and said, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Cloud Strife." They shook hands. Marisa's hands were cold against his sweaty one and he almost felt embarrassed. "You are definitely going somewhere. I know a lot of companies that would just kill to have you on their roster!" Marisa babbled on as she worked on him.

It's been months since he woke up in this dreary, strange world. Cloud did not know whether he was already okay with living this way or if he still wanted to go back. It still troubled him as he headed inside a café, where Marisa was waiting. They weren't dating or anything, no, but they've grown quite close to each other. And this time, he wanted to tell her his story. The aroma of coffee assaulted his senses the moment he pushed open the door.

"Hey chocobaby,"Marisa said cheerfully, setting aside her coffee. She had taken to herself to give him the ridiculous nickname two weeks after their initial meeting. 'Oh, but it's so cute!' she exclaimed when he told her to cut it out. The woman wasn't going to let him boss her around. That was what she liked about Marisa – she didn't take shit from anyone. "What's up?"

He took a seat opposite her and breathed. "Please don't stand up and leave when I start telling you my problem, okay? No matter how weird it is, please just hear me out." Cloud looked her straight in the eye. If she could hear his heart leaping, he wasn't sure. He hadn't told anyone of his situation, fearing that he might get fired from the movie. Zack seemed to appreciate his silence about the matter. A broad grin split in Marisa's face. "Okay, go ahead, baby boy."

"I…" Cloud fidgeted in his seat, no longer sure about how he was going to tell his friend his bizarre story. "Well you see… um, I'm supposed to be the getting married to Tifa."

As he had expected, Marisa burst into fits of laughter so loud that the café paused for a moment to stare. "Right you are, sweet cheeks, you're her fiancé! Nice joke, kid!" Tears had glazed the woman's green eyes. Cloud felt his stomach flop, constrict, his ears prickle and grow hot. Marisa stopped snorting and breathed deeply. "Oh… you look quite serious. I'm sorry. Please go on with your story."

So he did. He told her about how he and Tifa became friends, then lovers. He told about the time Tifa had run off to escape the toxic business, how Genesis had cheated on her during the beginning of his world tour. He told her about his modeling career, about HeartLocker.

By the time he had finished, Marisa was gaping. She moved to grab her purse and inch out of the booth. "Yeah, okay. I'm not really entirely sure how I feel about what you've said, kiddo. But you sure have great imagination! Maybe you should try scriptwriting and avoiding me." Just like that, Marisa was running out of the café. Cloud groaned and wanted to die, but he couldn't just let Marisa think that he was insane! So he got to his feet and ran after her.

"Marisa, please wait!" he called out to the woman's quickly retreating figure. "Marisa! I'm not crazy! I'm telling the truth!"

Passersby simply dismissed them as a fighting couple.

"Stay away from me, you lunatic!" Marisa screamed.

"I'm not a lunatic! Stop running!" There was a speeding bus and Marisa was just about to cross the street. "No!" he cried, pumping his legs faster off the ground; she was inches away from him. Cloud reached out to grab Marisa, who had stiffened as the bus blared its horn. Cloud threw her back to the sidewalk. The last thing his senses distinguished were immense pain, the rusty smell of his own blood. He barely heard Marisa screaming.

He blinked, trying to accustom his vision to the light above him. His head felt light and his body felt sore. Glancing down, he saw Tifa holding his hand in her sleep. A weak smile split on his dry lips. Cloud squeezed his fiancé's limp hand and waited for her to stir.

"Tifa," he rasped, his voice rough from disuse, "I'm home."

Author's Note:

Congratulations to everyone who guessed that this was all a dream! Free candy and chocobo chicks to all of you! Or would you rather have a hug?

I've got news for you too! I have decided to rewrite Consequences – if you are familiar with that story that I so stupidly deleted two years ago – under a new account. I do not even know why I am telling CloTi people about a RufTi story. *laughs*

Thank you to the ever-loyal sunflowerspot and to J Luc Pitard for reviewing the last chapter.

Love,

VC