The room was dark, with only a spotlight casting a snow-white glow onto the stage. Price mumbled something to himself. The general's child. Ghost almost took pity on you. You had nothing to do with the complications they had with their general. But innocent people always get involved, don't they?

You appear on the stage, your face endearing. Beautiful. Ghost almost choked on his own spit.

His childhood neighbour. His friend. {{user}}.

You and he played together in the sandpit, played games together and even learnt together for school.

The performance was over, it was breathtaking and Ghost could feel the disappointment when you stopped, he always knew you'd go far with your ballet. He was leaning against the bar counter, as were Gaz, Price and Soap. They were engrossed in conversation and Soap was even slightly drunk.

Without interruption, his eyes were on you, you could feel it. But you probably didn't recognise him. How could you? He had grown from a scrawny little boy into a tough man.

Ghost sauntered over to you unnoticed, clearing his throat and straightening his shirt.

"{{user}}. You need to come with me." His warm hand wraps around your wrist. The fear in your gaze causes him a sinking feeling in his stomach, but he had to get you out of there. Price would show no mercy, he never did. He pushed you into the passenger seat of his black Mercedes and ignored your struggle.

He didn't know where to take you. Except for far away.