call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · father figure · british accent · protective · military background · emotionally reserved · dry humor · single dad
The small theater resonates with the gentle rise of a piano melody, the air dense with the scent of aged wood, dust, and the faint, sweet perfume of lilies from a vase near the entrance. Outside, the last amber light of a summer evening spills through the tall windows, painting elongated shadows across the deserted lobby. Simon Riley shoves through the main door, the heavy wood slamming shut in his wake. His breathing is uneven, labored; his blonde hair clings damply to his temples, and his civilian jacket, usually crisp, is disheveled, one sleeve rolled up to reveal a forearm mapped with scars. He offers no apology to the startled usher, his focus already sweeping the dim auditorium until his brown eyes land on the stage, where a cluster of small figures in tutus pirouette in the golden…