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Fiona's crying. And man, does she hate it when she cries. She starts fiddling with everything around her, anything to distract herself from why she's crying. The sand on her fingers feels nice, but it's not enough to take her mind aware from the source of problem. She doesn't know if the taste of salt in her mouth is from her tears or from the ocean breeze. Maybe that's the reason why she came to the beach when she felt like she was going to break down.
Part of it, anyway. She knew that the main reason was that the beach was always so full of activity that hopefully she would forget what she was so upset about in the first place.
Instead, it kind of made it worse. It was a nice day, if a bit cold, and people were out. It was too cold to get in the water, but Californians, and especially people on vacation in California, loved a good beach. There was small children running around, couples taking the oh so desired long walk, people goofing around at the mask store further up from the ocean. It should have made her happy, made her think about something else, but it just cemented how alone she was.
At least everyone was giving her a wide berth. And she wasn't sobbing. She'd take an obvious cry over sobbing any day.
"Got room for company?"
Dammit. Just in time to ruin her train of thought. "No, I don't, actually -" she started, before looking up and realizing why the voice was familiar and her whole body coming to a halt where she'd been moving to - what, beat up the guy? leave? she didn't know. "Hi, Alfredo. You can sit, I guess."
"Hi," Alfredo responded, sitting down criss cross apple sauce beside her. He took his time getting comfortable, peering around, before saying: "So, nice view, huh?"
Fiona made a bit of a 'hmm' that could have easily passed as the wind. She didn't know why he was here. She didn't need checked up on like a little kid. Nothing was going to happen, probably, but if it did she could take care of herself. She'd always taken care of herself. If she admitted it, she was somehow both surprised and expectant, like part of her had thought the whole crew would show up and part of her had thought no one would notice. Now those parts of her were arguing again, right at the front of her brain: was Alfredo her to figure out what was wrong or tell her to get over it?
The man in question interrupted her train of thought again before it could get too deep. "There's some clouds way out in the horizon, that's gonna look real pretty come sunset. Which shouldn't be too much longer now, we could probably stay out here until then. I think the waves are perfect at this size, like, just big enough that they might take somebody away, but small enough that they'd have to be a very poor swimmer. I think that couple over there might take a break behind some rocks and, y'know, get freaky, but hopefully they'll wait until after dark."
Fiona thought he might just go on describing the scene forever, adding more whenever something changed, so she said, "You just described pretty much every size wave except maybe the ones you can surf on."
Alfredo turned and gave her the brightest smile she'd ever seen. She nearly had to look away. Nearly. "No, sometimes they're big enough good swimmers can get taken away without being surfable. If they're distracted or there's a big rock nearby."
"That doesn't really count, though," Fiona denies. "You could always get lost at sea if you're distracted or there's rocks. That's just what happens."
Alfredo laughs and after a few moments, looks at her with such a serious expression her heart nearly stops. She thinks that that's it, he's going to ask her what's wrong, but instead he turns back towards the ocean and so does she.
They stay there for a long while, occasionally mentioning to each other a change in the scenery. Another bird in the sky that hadn't been there before, a kid dropping his food, a particularly nice breeze. Alfredo's right about the clouds and the sunset: they help enunciate all the different colors the sky becomes, just a blend of blues and oranges and pinks and purples and yellows and some people never get to see that sky meet with the ocean like that. Hell, some people never get to see the sky like that. It's not unique to Los Santos, but it's something she'll forever associate with it, years and years and years from now when she hasn't had more than a passing thought of this place in decades.
Fiona thinks Alfredo might have fallen asleep when she finally says, "Y'know, before I came here - or the - the reason I came here, sort of, was because of my ex girlfriend. Not that - not that everything I've ever done has been about her, it's just, it certainly helped me make decisions that I wouldn't have if I hadn't been that emotionally charged. She, uh - we dated for two years. Then she stopped talking to me. Like, hardly at all, no texts, no calls, for a month. Maybe a 'hi'. I don't - I don't know what I thought was happening, maybe I just thought she was busy. I didn't want to be that clingy girl, y'know? But it was because she was getting up the courage to break up with me. But she never got enough of it, because she just texted me. After two years."
She feels like maybe she should start crying again, because it's been a long time since she mentioned this story to anyone, let alone told it, but she thinks maybe she's cried herself out for today. She feels like maybe it's silly to still care this much. Maybe it's silly that she ever cared at all.
There's worse things she's been through. God, way worse things. But somehow that's something that's stuck in her chest, hasn't let go, has wrapped it's way around her heart and years later won't let her move on.
Alfredo just makes a soft 'hmm' that might pass as the wind, and puts his arm around her shoulders. He doesn't say anything and for a second Fiona's confused, but then she realizes that the comfort is him saying something. It's fine, it's okay, let it out. She relaxes into his side.
They can't see the stars with all the light pollution, but the ocean meeting the night sky still looks beautiful and no one can take that from them.