Pretty Good Year

Alright, first and foremost I'd just like to say that I jacked the name of this fic from the wonderful Tori Amos song 'Pretty Good Year'. No copyright infringement is intended, and no, I sure as hell ain't gettin' paid to write this junk. There. I've disclaimed, and protected myself from the rabid crowd of lawyers out there. Onward.
I started thinking about this fic after I wrote After The Rain, which is my other sap-fest FF8 fic. (If I had a nickel for every person who emailed me telling me they cried, I'd have a lot of nickels. ^_^) Laguna's just such a damned cool character, he's just some guy who gets tossed around by fate and eventually ends up seeing the entire world and getting his own country. His life story is like one of those crazy stories grandparents tell their grandkids, and those kids tell their kids, and so on.
Raine, the piteously under developed character whose lack of storyline is somewhat reminiscent of Vincent from FFVII, is also a crapload of fun. She's such a *bitch* ! Well, at least she is in my version. She's going to have her way, no matter what, and she doesn't care what she has to say to get it. (She kind of reminds me of Dominia from Xenogears...) Raine is the evil demon girl inside me that never gets to come out and play, that never gets to throw all these smart ass remarks at people when she really wants to. But here, she can.
Alright, anyway. This is Pretty Good Year. It's the year starting with the day Laguna gets onto his feet again after being bedridden, and ending with the day he leaves to go find Ellone. I think that's all you need to know. Oh, wait. Shit. I just realized that this probably isn't going to line up with After The Rain at all. Daaaaaaaaaamnitt. Just...just...if you've read After The Rain, rearrange it in your head so that it fits this here. Damnit, I hate when I write crap and then write more crap that contradicts it.

pretty good year
lyrics by tori amos
tears on the sleeve of a man
don't wanna be a boy today
heard the eternal footman bought himself a bike to race
and greg he writes letters
and burns his CDs
they say you were something in those formative years
hold on to nothing
as fast as you can
well still pretty good year
maybe a bright sandy beach is gonna bring you back
may not so now you're off
you're gonna see america
well let me tell you something about america
pretty good year
some things are melting now
well what's it gonna take till my baby's alright
and greg he writes letters
with his birthday pen
sometimes he's aware that they're drawing him in
lucy was pretty
your best friend agreed
well still pretty good year