Fwoooooooooooosh,
Like a bullet shooting from its brass prison and traversing the nicely rifles barrel, the metro wagon wheezed through the grimy labyrinth of bricks and graffiti. Each individual station it passed by was like its own city, in a way. First, the clean, pristinely white surgical halls of the high-rise commercial area, a place where the cheery blondie by his side felt comfortable, yet not at peace. With hundreds of suits passing by, she pulled her hoodie’s soft embrace over her ears and tugged at the drawstrings. Curling in her seat, the tiny ball of nerves caught Andy’s scattered attention, bringing his thoughts of grand reunions back to Terra for a moment.
“... You alright?”
“Mmm. Just don’t wanna get recognized, is all.” She whispered back, carefully picking each of her voice-frequencies to make sure nobody but the boy heard her mumbles.
“You’re just THAT famous, huh?”
“Oh, shush. It’s not about that.” She smiled a little, yet refrained from elbowing him in the ribs. Were it Lem, he’d be already retaliating, were it Croissant, he’d be rubbing stomach in pain and whimpering a little. “... It’s about the label. The boss doesn’t mind when I slack off, but those… Ah, those label suits do.” She murmured, a few tiny, gray clouds forming by her frown at the mere thought of another official scold-talking.
“Mmm.” Andy thought back to his own boss. To his “unofficial” boss, as the very same, grease-riddled man kept telling him that the boy was his own boss and no one else could make him do anything. Anyone except The Union, apparently. “Yeah, I know how it feels. At least you don’t have a Dani with a bag of hundred LMD contracts at the start of each week on your doorstep.”
“... A what?” She looked at him with curious confusion, as if Andy had just flown down to Terra from another planet.
“A… Yeah, nevermind.”
“Mmm. Soooooo…”
She stretched a little, boring those curious eyes of hers into his face. Her fingers tapped eagerly against her knees.
“... How’d you two meet?”
“Hm?” Andy blinked, once again lost in thought. “... Who, Isaiah and I?”
“Yeah~! Who else?”
“Oh, we served.”
Simple statement. They just served. Served through the snowstorms, served through the catastrophes. Almost the catastrophes.
“Served?” She didn’t quite catch the weight behind those words. “Served… Like, what, in the military?”
“Mhm.”
“Oh. Ooooh…”
A light bulb formed above her head. It lit up the entire wagon like the muzzle flash of Andy’s very own nine millimeter Nuffer-replica.
“... That does explain a lot.” Murmured the idol. “Like, a lot.”
“Like what?”
What did it explain? His constant wallowing in self pity and misery? The constant attention loss? The P.C.L. Peacekeeper jacket over his torn sweater?
YOU ARE READING
"Almost Green"
FanfictionStrands of your mind cling together like web to a slippery leaf bathed in the morning dew. You have seen both heaven and hell, witnessed the atrocities of war firsthand, and imagined a better life in the deepest, most intimate corners of your dreami...
