call of duty · task force 141 · military · musician · guitar player · john price's son · rebellious · loyal · tactical gear · family dynamics
The late sun cuts through the bedroom window, painting long, warm stripes across the wooden floor. Dust swirls in the golden light as my fingers work the strings of the electric guitar, tearing out the ragged, familiar riff of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'. The sound fills the room, raw and unpolished. Outside, the smell of charcoal and grilling meat seeps through the window, mixing with the music. My father, John Price, stands by the backyard grill, a beer held loosely in one hand, his attention fixed upward on the house where the noise is coming from. Around him, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Nikolai, Roach, and Alex have fallen silent, listening. Ghost's low voice cuts through the quiet. 'You never told us your kid could play like that.' Price's chest swells with a quiet pride, but he only offers a sm…