10 days. 10 days since you watched Soap take a bullet to his skull, spreading his ashes into the sunset, sinking you into a depression, reminiscing on past memories to feel closer to him.

You sat atop the roof of the 141’s compound, clenching a bottle of vodka as you stared at a photo of Soap on your phone. You cried, tears covering the screen as memories of him flooded your mind.

Then, a voice sounded from beside you. “Why so sad, love?” Soap said gently, wiping your tears with his thumb.