Chapter 4 - I thought this was supposed to be practice!

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               It had not been long since Y/N had started practicing with the team, a month at most. With about 15 practices under their belt they felt well accustomed to the team. Sure they were not buddies with any of them, but they were able to joke and speak without their heart rate spiking and their hands starting to shake. It was a nice addition to their schedule as well. Between coaching young players, this team, and college, they didn't have any time to focus on their anxiety, it was actually really nice to get out of the house too. Plus they'd never know when Childe would suddenly invite the entire team to a "feeding frenzy", it was just Childe paying for a bunch of snacks and all of the team would get together and play some sand volleyball or watch movies. It was a really nice addition to their schedule, and it was fun to hang out with people that werent teachers or someone complaining about homework.

            Y/n had been asleep, dreaming of nothing in particular, the much needed rest recharging their body and filling them with strength. That was until they heard a loud ringtone from beside them, a grumble escaping their lips as they lifted their head from their pillow just enough to open their eyes barely. Their hand found its way to the phone on the bedside table in the small dorm they stayed in, they lifted the side of the phone to see the contact "Barbatos - Venti - VB" with the photo of venti plastered on top. They grumbled and clicked the "answer" button, bringing the phone to their ear.

              "...h-hello?" they mumbled, their voice not awake just yet. Their eyes traveled to their clock beside their bed, 5am. Venti woke y/n up. At 5am. This man better have a damned good reason for it too.
             "Ah Y/n! Sorry if I woke you but there's some urgent business to attend to!" Venti spoke, how was he so awake and happy at 5am? This man must be made of sunshine and rainbows, "you see, last night I got an email from the Tsaritsa. Apparently she would like her team, the Harbingers, and our team to have a practice game against each other. Something about preparing for tournaments and not wanting her team to disappoint her. I don't know, but what I do know is that I accepted it and well, I need my co-coach to come help me coach dear Kaeya!"

            Y/n listened, their eyes slowly opening as their brain struggled to process what nonsense Venti had just spewed through his mouth at the speed of light. Y/n took a few moments to think before speaking, "what time?"

          "oh... ah hee hee.... 8am."
          "A. hee. Hee." Y/n repeated, taking a second before each syllable. They felt anger run through their veins. Venti contacted them about coaching a game that's in THREE HOURS. Y/n silently prayed to archons to give them the strength not to bitch slap venti. They heard nervous laughter on the other side of the line, "I'll be there, but you're praying for my coffee"

             "Deal! Just send me your order '' Venti spoke before hanging up the phone. Y/n sighed and sat up in bed. Their dog at their feet(cat if you're allergic and a fish on the bed stand if you're allergic to both 😭) looked up at them. "A/N, help me." y/n mumbled and the animal simply looked up at them before turning away to go back to sleep.


             Y/n pushed open the door to the building that the team played and practiced at. The sounds of shoes squeaking and yelling greeted them in an empty hallway. The lights were still off and the sun was barely over the horizon in the long glass windows that lined the hallway. Usually this place would be packed with people, but it was a Sunday and most kids were hungover at their dorms or off at work, maybe even a church of some kind. Mondstat was always big on its churches, The Grand Cathedral being right down the street from the college as well. Y/n tended to stay away from them, even if they were religious, there were a lot of people in the cathedral at all times. And that always felt really awkward and spiked their heart rate.

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