Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Venus ❯ Love Is Not Enough ( Chapter 1 )

When you're objectified nearly every day of your life, you find that everything will start appearing in a different light. At the age I first started to notice this, I didn't seem to care - but it eventually got to my head… What with everyone calling me `beautiful', `sexy', `perfect'…

 

Words, letters; they crumble to reveal our own insecurities.

 

They give us nothing.

 

Nothing at all.

 

Time had seemed to stop when I was working at the brothel, but the beauty of youth is fleeting.

 

If you look for meaning in these ramblings - then I have none of any real value to give you. But if you really seek it, here it is:

 

`All beauty is temporary- don't be beautiful, it will only cause you more trouble in the end.'

 

No one wants to die without a few scars, but in my profession it's your job to keep them on the inside.

 

I told you that Zack would come back after a month, didn't I?

 

Don't get too excited. It hasn't been a month quiet yet.

 

Now let me make this perfectly clear, I hate Reno.

 

I abhor him.

 

I every day I pray to god and beg that he would smite that red haired fucker down.

 

Alas, I've yet to get a response from the great beyond- it keeps going to message bank. It's enough to turn you into an atheist.

 

Let me justify myself. Reno (whose last name escapes me, and besides- it's a redundant fact I have no time for) is a Turk - what's the difference between a Turk and a SOLDIER? Turks are mercenaries; if you have enough cash - and they're pricey- they will do anything for you. Turks belong to no one and can change loyalties at the drop of a hat.

 

They are the most dangerous men and women on the planet.

 

Except for Reno, who is the most stupid, self-centred, vain, rebellious fuck head that I've ever had the displeasure to meet.

 

He's the kind of guy that would give you CPR for a bullet wound to the head.

 

Our lives would become inevitably entangled in the end because of one event - Vincent Valentine was back in town.

 

For the last ten years there had been a slow decline in drug trafficking; this some people so ignorantly thought was a result in increasing law and order. Bullshit.

 

It was because said law and order had gotten rid of Hope's kingpin; Valentine had escaped from Hope and fled to Edge - rumour had it that he had connections with the town mayor Reeve Tuesti. And now he was coming back.

 

During his `reign', the city was united under one gang land district, `AVALANCHE', but since he left it had splintered; shattered, nothing left of it had remained.

 

He was coming back to claim what was his - bridle the rabid gangs and force them into submission, and win the city back from the SOLDIER's grasps.

 

What does this have to do with Reno? Everything.

 

During that rocky time in which Tifa got smart, everyone knew she had the best whores in the city. A rich tribute in a time of unrest. It would have been so easy just to pluck us away under the confusion that Valentine would create.

 

So she hired a band of Turks well connected with SOLDIER, paid them more then they'd ever seen, and then she ran off to kiss ass.

 

The one assigned to protect me, Hope's finest (and I will dispute that till the day I die) was none other then Zack's stupid friend Reno.

 

The morning of his arrival had been one of my worst for a while. Tifa had to take me off the payroll for a week seeing that my last customer had left dark bruises on my wrists; no one wanted damaged property - no matter how beautiful they were.

 

I'd been moved from my crimson chamber to the back room - and much to my displeasure, I had to share with Loz, Yazoo's childish half-brother.

 

Loz had been blacklisted as stolen material- Tifa had pulled some strings and the boy had arrived incognito three nights previously. He was sulky and kept wailing about his mother, but that was the least of my problems.

 

I'd had enough with the constant weeping of my abducted roommate and decided to sneak out to the bar to steal a drink whilst Tifa was out.

 

But I've never been lucky - as soon as I was in the foyer, she walked into the door - followed by four dark suited gangsters.

 

“Cloud! Good, I want a word with you,” she intoned, looking at me with dark, greedy eyes. Before she could have her word, though, we were rudely interrupted by the most obnoxious looking brat of the lot. Goes with out saying- Reno.

 

“There was me, that is, Reno, and my three droogs- Rude, Elena, and Tseng, and -” he bellowed at me with a grin the size of… Best not go there. Thankfully before he could finish ruining one of the most classic films of all time, he was interrupted by one of his comrades - a scary looking woman.

 

“Enough, Reno! Sorry, ma'am, I am here to inform you that we will -”

 

I think that's enough to make my point clear. You can guess the rest. Elena tried to persuade a most doubtful Tifa (and succeeded) as to just how genuine they were.

 

Tseng and Elena didn't stay of course, just Reno and Rude. The two well dressed superiors had other duties that would keep them out of Seventh Heaven for a while.

 

The night Reno sat out side my door all night humming Beatles songs under his breath (hardly within the job requirement), Loz whimpered and I cursed under my breath at the injustice of it all.

 

The next day I started work again.

 

It's not so hard. And I would never turn a man down.

 

Swish - my curtain would fall.

Insert groan. Insert seduction.

Shower, rinse, rise, repeat.

Show time.

 

My curtain would fall.

Insert objectification.

Insert humiliation.

 

And all the while Reno would just sit there - looking bored.

Insert in-flight entertainment.

 

Most of the time the other Turk (Rude) would talk to him (if you could count monotone grunts as speech), and that dumb red head would chatter like an eight year old.

 

“Yo, this,” “Fuck that”.

 

Insert mute button.

 

My last customer of the day was none other then Don Armidalio. That fat bastard was bigger then two semi trailers.

He'd never touch me - not once, thank god, but he always came up with new and sick ways to degrade me. This time I had been wrapped in thick golden ribbons - tied so they tightened with each movement I made. I looked so alluring - half god, half mortal, bound in what looked like my own locks. And then I was told to dance.

 

I've never felt more animalistic nor been able to recapture the rhythm I found that day. The music was erratic and sensual, wild and yet heart wrenchingly sad.

And the more and more I moved, my bonds tightened, and he just sat there, the fat piece of scum. With his massive hard-on, beating off to me while feeding himself his greasy food thick with batter. The way he looked at me - it was like I was nothing more then a piece of food. The stench of it made me choke, reminding me of home. Well - the fairy tale home I'd once belonged to.

 

Once upon a time.

 

I kept on dancing till the ribbons on my chest were bound so tight I couldn't breathe, my joints locking, my body falling to the floor. My ties were no longer gold but stained grey from the sweat that soaked them, my skin glittered with the leaking pigment.

 

The Doncame to the sounds of my strangled gasps.

 

He left without touching me. Tifa keeps telling me to be honoured. Don Armidalio was an artist, and I was his muse.

Ironically, it was Reno who freed me, sliding his pocket blade through the ribbons that held me in their bone crushing fibers.

 

I didn't even speak to him, I just rushed to the bathroom. I, as of that point, have never spoken to the red head.

 

I had been making my way back to my chamber when I saw a familiar face beside Reno's, grinning from his seat on the floor by my curtain.

 

Reno went silent.

 

Before you ask:

No, it had not been a month yet.

No, he wasn't there to see me. Well - he had not made himself clear on that subject, to be honest.

No, he was not dating that obnoxious redhead (the mere thought is repulsive.)

 

If you're wondering how that sly SOLDIER got it, the time was one minute to one (am) and all customers for myself and the rest of the boys had finished. And Tifa was most likely kissing butt with other members of the ganglands… but I'll indulge you with that story later. Zack had simply missed his curfew at the barracks and found himself homeless for the night.

 

What an unlikely story.

 

Their conversation ended ebruptly as they saw me - a modern day Adonis - clad only in a towel, dripping. The SOLDIER blushed.

 

The clock struck one am, and a resounding ring ran through Seventh Heaven.

 

Time's up.

 

Insert irony

.

Zack smiled.

 

“I wanted to see you… to apologise.”

 

Month's up.