Favored

"Alright, now gimme a cheese!" The camera flashes as the soldiers lean their arms over me. I make a V sign just as the photo is taken, and of course, you gotta give them the classic Alex grin. I even throw in a wink.
"I feel a lot safer knowing you're keeping us safe Mr. Pilot sir!" The soldier gets up and gives me a finger gun. "I hope you have a Merry Christmas!

It has been three months since the strike on the Novemian oilport, and nine missions since that. I've run air interceptions, ground strikes, air cover for army, air cover for navy, interdictions, and even a straight up classic air combat scenario. Not to sound too self-centered, but I'm...kind of a big deal now? High command figures I'm the perfect posterboy for the war effort, and I can't blame them. I've even managed to talk to Sophie a bit more. As Christmas rapidly approaches, things are looking good for both me and Elodia. Who knows, maybe the war will be over by then!

"Hey pilot, keep killing it out there!" Yeah I will. Literally. That comment makes me do a mental double take however. It's not that hard to kill someone when it's just a button press. Also when they're trying to kill you and all, but there's a weird feeling of disassociation I have with myself when I realize I'm, yaknow, killing people. They may be invaders, but it's not like the soldiers had any choice. The other ground soldiers cheer and shake my hands as the click-clak of phone cameras peppers my face. 

As much as I'd like to enjoy this moment, it's kind of hard to right after visiting a hospital. There was a tanker who was practically bisected trying to get out of his burning vehicle while in combat. I didn't look. Knowing what was behind the curtain that separated us two was enough for me. Makes me glad I'm in the air. You don't have to see stuff like that in the skies. 

"Let's give it up for Alex!" A burly drone operator stands up on the table and raises his plastic cup up high, as if it's a goblet. As he does, I find myself following him up onto the table. I can't stop grinning. The soldiers cheer to high heaven as the image of the tanker fades from my mind. Maybe, just maybe, I will allow myself to enjoy the moment. After all, I'm Alexander Benoic. I love me a good party. The Christmas lights hung across the cafeteria walls sparkle as they lift me up and begin sliding me down. 

"Alex! Alex! Alex! Alex!" I'm surfing like a rockstar. They love me.

I let myself embrace the cheers. Scary things can be wiped from your mind if there's enough people happy.

Oh, this is euphoric.

***

"Looks like someone's popular, huh?" A few pilots from Gladiator Squadron saunter over to me, with a look on their face that concerns me. The one at the head is Ben. Callsign, Pointer.

I put down my spoon and give them a polite smile. The pilot's cafeteria is way smaller than the ones the infantry and armored troops share, but it's still large enough that even I can maintain some degree of anonymity. I'm sitting alone, because the rest of my team was having their lunch while I was out on that glorious photo shoot.

"Ahaha, it's nothing really." I lean back in my chair. They look angry, but I give them a smile. Internal panic rises, but I tell myself, maybe they're having a bad day. I should be kind. "Hey Pointer, how's life treating you?"

"Totally fine." They've surrounded me. The atmosphere in the cafeteria goes cold. "I'm more curious to see how life's treating you."

"Huh?" I look around and then stand up, though there's not many places to go. "Hey, what are you doing?" I maintain a nonchalant facing, hoping to defuse the situation, but I'm starting to get flashbacks to middle school. It's like how a deer feels when a hunter is after them. Despite my external confusion, I got the gist of the situation a while back.

"I think that you're getting too big for your britches, Alex. You think you're hot shit, don't you?" Ben says as he shoves me backwards. Hot soup spills onto the table. That was my dinner. I only had breakfast, no lunch because of the meetups. I really needed that. A part of me wants to deescalate, but another part of me doesn't. I tried being friendly. I tried diffusing the situation. Now they're just asking for it.

These fucking NPCs would be dead if weren't for me. 

"So what if I do?"

Oh shit, I just said that, didn't I? Well, here it goes. There's something building inside of me that I have to let out. It's ugly, disgusting, and cruel, but I can't bear this anymore. They don't get it. None of them do. They don't understand what I go through. They're monsters. Every one of them.

"Your asses would have been toast without me. So how about fucking off, and letting me have my food?" My food is gone, but my anger is not. I shove him back.

"Hey, someone's getting handsy." I look around the cafeteria in hopes that someone will help, but almost everyone I look to averts their gaze. The few that look on seem to be enjoying it. "You goddamn fucking attention whore. You think you're so much better than us. I can see it."

It's not fair. I never chose to be where I am. They'll never understand that.

"Ben, we should leave. We might get reported."

"Hmmph, alright." Ben glares at me before turning to leave, but I grab his shoulder.

"And the fuck do you think you're going? You ruined my dinner." What the fuck am I doing? But I can't let it end like this. I feel like crying.

"Get your hands OFF!" He takes a swing at my head, but I'm faster. I dodge his punch, and shove him harder, as he lands onto the floor. The pilots sitting on the other table had previously kept their heads down, but now they take their food and scurry off. Whatever, that's good. Shame no one's helping me, but now I don't need to worry about collateral damage.

"Get your paws off of me you goddamn extra." I snarl. I'm practically seeing red. I step over the chair and raise my fists, but there's an mental barrier of some kind that's stopping me from giving him the lesson he deserves.

"So there it is!" He groans in pain, and tries to stagger up, but fails to. "Your honest mind. You think you're the main character. You don't give a shit about anyone else." Axer, steps in front of Pointer and slugs me in the face. I fall onto the ground. The others are avoiding this row and staring. Pointer's being dragged off by the third Gladiator Squadron guy, but Axer stands right in front of me. For some reason, Axer pisses me off even more than Pointer now.

That's it. I step up to Axer, and slug him back. And back. He returns with block and a flurry. I block what I can and attack back.

Our fists continue to fly at one another, but they no longer connect. I can feel the hands on my back. We're both being restrained. But I continue to try and hit the little bitch. I fucking saved them. I tried being friendly with them. They just hate me because they're jealous.

"Let me go!"

They hate me because I'm right.

"Alex, calm down!"

They hate me because at the end of the day, I'm still the same loser as I was before.

"What's going on here?" The commander's voice rings through the hall. He's pissed. Extra pissed. I'm almost relieved. Whatever punishment I get, I'll deserve. I just hope they get something too. 

Paladin One lets go of me as the base commander steps up to us two. The other pilot, the one that was holding Axer back is now holding onto Pointer's wrist.

Gavin. That was Paladin One's name. Gavin. It's a nice name I guess.

The base commander turns to the three Gladiators.

"Smith. Forrester. Garland. You three know what Alex means to us." He shakes his head. Then he turns to me. "And Benoic." He sizes me up. "Perhaps it was wrong to choose you for our propaganda efforts. I'm disappointed in you."

I feel like I've heard that statement a hundred times. I probably have.

He steps back and looks at the four of us.

"I don't know what happened here, and I don't care. You four are unbecoming of pilots of the Elodian Armed Forces. Take them all to the brig. I don't have time for this nonsense, I need to go to a meeting in a sec. We'll figure out a consequence later." He nods as the MPs behind him start dragging us away. As he walks away, he takes one last look at the four of us and shakes his head before heading out the door.

For some reason, I prefer this outcome.