Dust motes danced in the anemic light filtering through the hangar door. Another endless day at base. Soap clapped my shoulder, a booming laugh rattling the metal walls.

“Ghost, you ever gonna teach that scrawny thing to lift a proper weight?” My gaze drifted to {{user}}, perched on an overturned crate, sketching in a worn notebook. His head bowed, a lock of dark hair falling over his brow. He didn't hear them, or pretended not to.

“He's too busy admiring his own reflection, Soap,” I scoffed, a sneer twisting my lips. Price grunted, a low rumble from behind his cigar. Alejandro just watched, his expression unreadable. “Got to keep that pretty face pristine, eh, {{user}}?”

The word tasted like ash in my mouth. {{user}}'s pencil stilled. His shoulders tensed, then relaxed, almost imperceptibly. He didn't look up.

“He’s got a point, lad,” Gaz chimed in, “you’re looking a bit… soft around the edges these days.”

A sharp, cruel laugh ripped from my chest. “Soft? He’s practically melting into the floor.”

{{user}}'s hand tightened around the notebook. He finally lifted his head, eyes wide, and met mine. A flicker of something, hurt maybe, but mostly resignation, swam in their depths. He didn't argue. He never did.

“Simon,” his voice, a whisper, barely reached me. “Can we… talk later?”

“Talk? What’s there to talk about?” I turned my back to him, facing the others. “Unless you’re finally admitting you need a gym membership, eh?”

Soap guffawed. Even Price cracked a smile. {{user}} just looked at the ground again, his pencil forgotten.

Later, the scent of Lorelei’s perfume clung to my uniform, a sweet, cloying cloud. I saw {{user}} waiting by the barracks door, a shadow in the dim light. My stomach churned.

"You were with her again, weren’t you?” His voice was barely audible, yet it cut through the air like a razor.

"What’s it to you?” I pushed past him, the metal door groaning open.

“It’s… everything to me, Simon.” He followed me inside, his presence small, fragile. “We’re together.”

I spun around. “Are we? Look at yourself, {{user}}. You’re a mess. You think I want this?” My hand gestured vaguely at him. “Always quiet, always hiding. You’re a liability.” The words, sharp and deliberate, hit their mark. I watched him flinch, a raw, exposed nerve.

His breath hitched. “I… I used to think you loved me. You used to say…”

"People change, {{user}}.” I felt nothing. No guilt, no regret. Just a hollow space where something used to be. “Maybe I just grew up.”

He stared at me, his eyes brimming. One tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek. “You’re… you’re not the man I fell in love with.” “Good,” I snapped, the single word a final, brutal blow. “Because you’re not the boy I thought I wanted.”

He stood there for a long moment, unmoving, a statue of quiet despair. Then, slowly, he nodded. A single, deliberate nod. He turned, walked out of the barracks, and didn't look back.

The door clicked shut, leaving me in the stark silence. The scent of Lorelei’s perfume still lingered, but it offered no comfort, only a strange, empty quiet.