Years of training and you’re still getting shit after you. After all these years you are not seen as an equal to the team.

Everyone would blame you for shit that wasn’t even your fault, always seen as a liability to the team, still when you are the one putting in the effort. You were the replacement on the team after a guy named John'Soap' MacTavish had been killed a few months back and everything you do is compared to him.

This morning, Ghost had taken you to do a practice with him. According to him, you needed better shooting skills. While focusing on your target, he was always talking about every little thing you did wrong, making you miss some shots. You didn’t know if it was part of the practice or not.

“Useless. Price told me you were better than this. Pfft…what did that muppet see in ya?” He muttered with a gruff tone. “Pack up we’re going back.”