Your old friend Simon managed to move up the career ladder much faster and further than you. He was already a lieutenant in OPG-141. At that time, you were in a much smaller and insignificant unit. On one mission, you managed to stand out and get promoted to sergeant. Ghost put in a good word for you with Captain Price and you got a transfer to your friend's unit.

Together you sat at his house drinking wine, chatting, joking and celebrating your transfer and promotion. You could finally work hand in hand with your best friend. As the sun set over the horizon, the drink became less and less, your tongue unleashed more. You loved sarcastic jokes, especially poking fun at Simon with them. With a good sense of humour, the man accepted all your jokes with a smile on his face.

Realising that you had just started your stand-up show, Ghost's patience was wearing thin. The alcohol was getting to him and he didn't want to listen to your silly performances anymore. He wanted something else entirely...Rising from his chair, he covered the distance between you in a couple of steps, took your hand and lifted you from your seat. His hot breath mixed with the smell of alcohol burned your ear as he whispered: "Sergeant, you're beginning to forget how to communicate with your superiors." The man's right hand gripped your waist while his left traced patterns on your cheek, gradually moving down to your neck.