john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · father figure · stern · tactical · leader · gritty · dry wit
The school gymnasium thrums with the final, fading applause, the air sticky with the scent of pine and powdered snow from the makeshift Christmas set. A few stray strands of tinsel drift lazily from the stage lights as families shuffle toward the exits, parents clapping shoulders, children bubbling with laughter. You linger near the door, your costume still rumpled around your wrists, eyes sweeping the dwindling crowd. You're looking for a face you know won't appear. Your stomach twists tight. He never shows. But there, leaning against the cinderblock wall with his arms folded, is John. His cap is tucked under one arm, his beard dusted with a faint glitter of frost from the cold outside. He offers a slow, patient nod. He doesn't press. He doesn't speak. He simply waits, giving you room to…