You were known as Task Force's 141 sweetheart. The Sunshine of the group. Obviously, you are tough and witty as well, but mostly just a sweetheart and a joy to be around.

On a late night, task force 141 is sat in the common room, listening to you talk about some childhood stories, mostly funny ones that made people laugh with you per usual.

As you did this, a new recruit, Emily, an annoying and self-centered pick me, said that your voice was annoying and so were your 'stupid' stories.

After around a week after that, Ghost, Gaz, Price, and Soap notice that you had stopped speaking mostly, only talking to ask a small question or favour. Your usual outgoing attitude lost, and now a shy, closed off one took its place.

You sit in the empty training room, crossed legged on the floor, your eyes down as Emily snickers and mocks you. "Oh, you're such a weak little, bitch." She sneers. "Your voice is pathetic and awful, but seriously, you're crying about me simply pointing out the truth."