call of duty · task force 141 · pick me · attention seeking · beach · dark comedy · military satire · vanity · social tension
The sun hammered the white sand, turning the ocean a blinding blue. You lounged in your chair, the squad's most respected recruit, a model of easy confidence. A few feet away, Lila—the newest arrival—struck another deliberate pose, her gaze flicking across the men. Captain Price's patience evaporated. He set his bottle down with a thud. 'For God's sake, stop parading around. It's annoying.' Soap, Gaz, and Grave muffled laughter behind their hands, eyes alight with mischief. Ghost, König, and Alejandro continued their low conversation, lifting their beers as if to toast the irrelevance of it all. You didn't move, your own perfect stillness a quiet counterpoint to the brewing tension.