runner-up | bllk

Tag, You're It!

The next week went by in a haze, and as promised, you went to this strange 'meeting' with Bachira.

"I'm a little nervous," you confessed, wiping your sweaty palms against your clothes. "Do you think they'll notice?" You grumbled.

"No way! You've made it this far, right?" Bachira grinned, hands behind his head. "I only know because we're best friends ever! Right?"

"Right!" You balled your fists. "So right!" You felt confident—enough... "But, still... Okay, no, it's fine, it's not like I'll be living with these guys or anything!"

"Bingo!" Bachira agreed to assure you. "Besides, if anyone gives you trouble, I'll jump 'em!" He decided, cracking his knuckles.

"They'd probably kick you out if you started fighting people, I'd freak out being all by myself!"

"Then I'd do it on the down-low!" He decided. "You better not be scared! Let's go!"

He held his hand up for a high five. You raised your palm to return the gesture, but got met with a chop straight to the head. "Gotcha! You really are spacing out!"

"I'm not spacing out, you've hit me with that same move a hundred times!" You replied. "I forged my moms signature and everything to even get here... What if they realize it's not even hers when I turn in the slip?!"

"I bet they won't blink twice! You've gone to a million field trips and training camps!"

"True..." You bit your thumb, before balling your fist with a new sense of determination. "Everything you just said was right, Meguru! You're so smart! I've been filled with determination!"

You marched your way up to the door, slamming it open--and you would have been embarrassed at how loudly it hit the door stopper if it weren't for the fact that no one even glanced your way.

Your first reaction to a group of hundreds of boys all in the same room? "Pee-yew, it stinks." You pinched your nose, voice nasally.

"Hey, looks like you have fans here, too!" Bachira pointed out with a smile on his face.

"No way! They totally know!" You freaked out, hands over your head.

"Even as a guy you've played tons of sports! They probably know you as something cool like 'that one guy that knows a lot of things and has gone to nationals a bunch of times'!" He assured you. And it worked, honestly--being admired because you knew so many tricks was kind of... Cool. It flattered you much more than being liked for your looks. Which, honestly, could be considered catfishing.

Before you could reply, the lights went out, the stage lighting up to reveal a scrawny, older man.

As it turned out, all of your worst nightmares actually were true in this program. And by that, you meant one of those. You would have to live here--with three hundred other boys. Living with seven brothers at home was already bad enough, but this was worse!(Though, looking on the bright side, you could totally disobey the guys here and get away with it.)

"Hardcore," Bachira commented, hands behind his head. "What do you think? It's your call."

MY call?! You freaked mentally. There's no way he would ditch an opportunity to become the worlds best striker, so there was really no reason to worry... But it still felt like he was seriously wondering what your response would be.

"...I mean, living with a bunch of dudes? Sure, I already do that... But at least I had my own room! Not to mention, what if we have to share the same baths?! And, and--wouldn't it be kind of creepy of me to see into the daily lives of guys in a place where only guys are supposed to be? I mean seriously, when there's only guys they do some freaky things, don't they? I'm not even sure if I'm down for that, what happens between guys should stay between them!" Your entire worried rant came out as a hushed whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear.