Music sounds better with you

"Somehow, its easier to sleep after that"

Nick Nelson is having a really fucking bad week.

At first, he wanted to say he was having a crisis, but this doesn't really justify being called a crisis as nothing bad has happened, per se. No, this is something that he should be excited about but isn't taking up every inch of space in his brain, and now it's become all he thinks about at any given moment.

And now he's stressed and grumpy as hell.

Two weeks ago, at the end of term rugby gala dinner, it was announced that Nick would be taking over as the captain for University of Leeds Division I rugby squad come the new term in September, which was absolutely not anything he was expecting. It's a huge honour to be bestowed this title, especially as a first year, and Nick had felt like he was on cloud nine as the whole team had congratulated and celebrated him for the rest of the night.

Typically, the rugby season has come to an end by June, but they had one more match this term, one against the University of Manchester, a rescheduled event after rain had stopped play on a dreary day back in April.

The current team captain was due to graduate this year, so Nick had no qualms about him captaining that game before he took over in September, but a drunken injury had meant he'd had to move home early and suddenly Nick was captain.

Which was fine, but he really could have done with finding this out a little sooner than two days before the game.

And now he's freaking the fuck out and he's not sure why.

Realistically, he knows it's an honour. Realistically, he knows he has no business being so stressed out when he's got a good team of lads to play beside and he's not that worried about beating Manchester anyway.

But somehow, this feels huge, and he's been in a bad mood ever since Coach Jameson told him.

Now that term is over and he's not got uni work to keep him distracted, he's been allowed to sit and stew with this and his anxious brain has definitely turned it into something bigger than it is.

And now the match is tomorrow, he's grumpy and nervous and he's unpleasant to be around, and he feels entirely out of his depth as he makes another page of meticulous notes on strategy that he's not even sure he'll look over again.

"What crawled up your arse and died?" Harry asks him when he's in the kitchen that night, stabbing at the chicken and rice on his plate so aggressively that a piece of broccoli fires across the room. "You look like you want to strangle that dinner."

"Maybe I do." Nick heaves himself out the chair to retrieve the broccoli. When he goes to chuck it in the bin, he misses again, and he swears so loudly that both Harry and Claire flinch. "Fuck's sake."

"Jesus Christ, Nick." Harry holds his hands up. "What the fuck is going on?"

"I'm stressed, okay?" Nick finally manages to get the broccoli in the bin and then he slumps back down in his chair. "I really... I'm really nervous about tomorrow."

"Why?" Claire asks. "You're going to be a great captain."

"Thanks," Nick says dryly, smashing rice between the prongs of his fork. "I don't know, I'm just, like..." He sighs. "I'm nervous because I want to be the best I can be, and I don't want to leave for the summer with everyone thinking I'm a shit captain and then planning my demise for next year."

Harry snorts. "That's not possible. You're so likeable it's almost annoying."

"Thanks?"

"It's true," Claire agrees. "You're, like, insanely popular and you also wouldn't have been picked as captain if they didn't think you'd be any good."