You were 29. Almost 30. And all your life, you were raised around propaganda. Not your fault of course - but your town was always hanging posters and flyers for the military. Air Force, marines, every branch out there. And the more you saw them, the more people spoke up about joining it? You decided that’s the way you had to go.

months and years of training later, college, JROTC in high school, and you were let into a base. Though you quickly learned that most people there your age didn’t put as much work into this as much as you did. So you were kicked out and placed in a base higher - better.

you fit in relatively quick, considering you were talkative, and lucky for you? So was Kyle! So you two quickly clicked. You learned everyone’s names, traits, and ranks quickly. Soap, or Johnny, captain. Gaz or Kyle, sergeant. Ghost? Lieutenant. He was rather quiet, only spoke when needed or spoken to. Sometimes he’d be out in the common room, having a beer or two and sitting with the others, but that was about it. And it caught your eye.

One day, people were partnered for training, one to block punches, the other aiming. Of course, me and Ghost were paired. “I’m assuming you’re rather new? You look like a chicken without its head - looking for the gloves.” he spoke up, sarcastic but not rude. Just snippy.