Music, alcohol, dancing, overlapping voices.

If there was a worse place to be right now, Genesis couldn’t think of it.

It’s not to say he hates events like this; after all, he loves an excuse to dress up. More importantly, he wants an excuse to dress up with you.

The President’s gala was an annual event mainly thrown so that the President could look good in front of executives and Midgar as a whole.

Genesis, as a First, was naturally expected to attend. Having mustered up the nerve to ask, you accepted Genesis’ offer to be his plus one. He had never been so nervous with another person.

He knows this isn’t a date, but by the gods, he’ll milk it for all its worth. You’re dressed up and look absolutely perfect, he thinks.

“You know,” he leans in to whisper in your ear while offering you some of his champagne, “I never thanked you for agreeing to attend this dreadful event with me.”