What's In My Bag: Gage/Garnet Edition

Second up is (our tsundere) G.

• ID Card -
  Neatly clipped onto their bag, never lost. It’s not flashy — just a simple black holder.

  The photo shows a stone-cold expression, no sign of the excitement that surged underneath.
  But for G, it’s proof of one of the first choices they ever made for themselves.

  They still remember the day they got it. And who they told first.

• Water Bottle -
  Always filled with green tea. Not coffee, never energy drinks.

  There’s an old sticker of a dog stuck to the underside — one they’ve never quite managed to peel off.
  The cap’s a little dented from a fall to the clinic floor, but it still does the job.

• Sheet Music (scrap)-
  The sheet is folded and creased. Stained slightly on the upper corner and scribbled with notes.

  It's an original melody G had started, never finished. G doesn't let many people hear it... but MC might've once.

• Phone -
  The complete opposite of Cam’s. G’s Galaxy Z Flip 6 is in pristine condition — blue, fingerprint-free, and usually tucked neatly in a pocket.

  The current home screen is a photo Cam took back in their school days.
  Every now and then, G changes it… but only when they’re sure no one’s watching.

• Notes and Pen (planner) -
  G keeps their planner meticulously up to date. If something important happens, you can bet it’s written down.

  A random run-in on the street? Noted.
  A subpar meal at a new diner? Logged and rated on a 1-5 scale. (with a reminder to inform Cam.)

  Tucked into the back is a photo strip — edges bent and fading from wear.
  Three smiling faces, caught in a moment G never quite let go of.

• First Aid Kit-
  Like most things in G’s bag, it’s a calm shade of blue.

  As someone who prides themselves on being prepared, this one’s non-negotiable — always within reach, just in case.

• Change of Clothes -
  There’s always a spare outfit in G’s bag.

  While they love their scrubs — usually covered in bones and paw prints — they also like to look the part: calm, clean, put-together.

  Nothing beats a fresh outfit (free of cat hair, thanks to the lint roller) after a long day.

• Stained old note -
  Tucked into an interior pocket is a faded bakery receipt with a message scrawled on the back.

  The handwriting reads:
  “Happy birthday, Doc. One slice a year isn’t enough.”

  It was the first piece of red velvet cake G had ever tried — and the first birthday cake that didn’t come from their parents.

  They know they should throw it away.
  But they never do. Instead, they keep telling themself they’ll toss it next time — the time that never comes.

• Not pictured-
  A lint roller — a vet’s best friend.
  A copy of The Queen of the Damned by Anne Rice, dog-eared and reread.

  A power bank, and a few peppermint candies to bite down on when nerves hit a little too hard.