THE BOY IS MINE.

001. atlanta

—⁠☆

2011. ANYA AND PATRICK HAD BEEN COMPETING TOGETHER FOR 1 YEAR NOW.
things weren't bad. did anya enjoy being on the road constantly? no, but she enjoyed patricks company and that was enough to make her stay. while it seemed art had progressed greatly with tashi as his coach, patrick seemed to be burning out.
he was good there was no denying it but he didn't have the reach that art donaldson has.

anya, however had been only going up from there. she qualified for the upcoming us open which she thought for sure would put her on the road to wimbeldon.
she often spent the money won from matches on hotels for her and patrick to stay at, but she feared what he would do without her and her organization skills.

when they played duos it was often assumed that they were a couple however the relationship felt more like that of siblings. patrick knew he could never replicate the bond he had with art but he greatly enjoyed anyas companionship.
anya knew she could never face tashi again but she didn't need to,
she had patrick.

—⁠☆

patrick agreed to stay with anya in atlanta for the us open.
unknown to either of them art would also be competing; tashi as his coach.

the first day had gone well. the pair had been training everyday leading up to now and it seemed to be paying off.
anya had a chance.
an uninterrupted career. a successful one at that.
she was a big name in tennis, up there with the likes of art donaldson and tashi duncan.
her father would be watching her in the stands excited to see his daughter's great achievement.
her mother had never been that into tennis, instead, she put her focus into the church. in her words, "hitting a ball with a racquet will not get you into heaven."
she knew her mother wouldn't be caught dead at her match but a part of her wished she'd at least watch her on the tv.

—⁠☆

"listen you've been working your ass off don't stress about this just do what you need to and win this thing do you understand me?" patrick asked his grip firm on the girls shoulders.
"got it. i love you pat." she said hugging the man tightly.
"i know. now get out there!"
he yelled pushing her onto the court.

it was nerve-wracking. her first adult us open. though she was older and had more experience it felt like her first time.
anya looked into the crowd and when she locked eyes with her dad she knew she'd be alright.
no matter what someone was always on her side.
she'd be okay.

the game started.

anya was quick on her feet just like she'd been all those years ago at the tournament that had launched her career. she had a strong arm and a great hit.
she put herself into the mindset of 18 year old anya. bright eyed and beautiful, the queen of the court.
she moved with the same grace she had back then.
it'd be like a time capsule for long time fans.
she knew she had this game in the bag.
sure enough she was right.
she did it.
anya plath, 23 years old, had won the us open.
she fucking did it.
all those years of working her ass off she did it.
she had won.

she stood in a state of shock.
she screamed with such vigor and passion once she realized what had happened.
she looked over in the stands to find her father, instead, locking eyes with someone else.
a head of blonde hair and blueish brown eyes.
art.

he was clapping for her.

she didn't know what to do luckily patrick ran to her and cut off her train of thought.

"you fucking did it! anya you did it! i'm so proud of you! oh my god i'm so fucking proud!" he engulfed her in an embrace unlike anything they'd shared previously. he sounded like he was tearing up. "i'm so fucking proud of you. you did so good." he cried.

it was almost as if patrick was disappointed in himself at the win.
he has finally been surpassed.
he could've been competing along with her but he didn't try.
he gave up.
a

nya was a constant reminder of what he could've been.

it was crushing for him to see her win.

—⁠☆

anya sat in the lobby of her hotel. she nursed a celebratory drink in complete and utter silence.
"you did good to today. you still have that backhand i see."
she looked at the voice and saw once again that same head of blonde hair.

"leave me the fuck alone. let me enjoy this." the woman snapped.
anya knew she didn't mean to be so cruel. however, she couldn't help it.
"sorry i just wanted to congratulate you." art apologized grabbing a seat next to her.
"do you want a drink? they're giving me free one's during my stay since i won the open." she said flatly. "no it's okay i don't drink." "that's new." "eh not really." he chimed.
art was always a reflection of those he was around so it was surprising to anya he wasn't drinking now. maybe it was because he didn't want to be indebted to her? she thought.

she looked down and noticed the wedding band on his finger.
"nice ring." she said coldly.
"yeah me and tashi got engaged last year." "nice." "what about you and patrick? you guys looking at marriage yet?" he prodded. "we're not together." the woman answered. "so why are you too attached at the hip?"

"because patrick was there when i was contemplating suicide after you and tashi ditched me. when i was alone with nothing but a racquet and balls i didn't even own, you know who was there? not you and definitely not your fucking fiance! don't come here and try to get back into my life when you made your stance clear. i couldn't even count on my own fucking mother to love me but you know who i could count on to be there for me every time? patrick. say whatever the fuck you want about him and why you guys don't talk anymore but you can't say he isn't reliable." anya monologued.

"oh please! you didn't even want me anya. tashi told me about your little bet. i was your backup until you got what you wanted and by the looks of it you did." art scoffed. "you don't know shit art. you nor tashi have any idea how i felt because if you did maybe things wouldn't have ended up this way." she said voice elevating.

without warning art leaned in and kissed her.
anya pulled back.
why did he do that?
he's fucking engaged for christs sake.
engaged to her best friend at that; or ex best friend.
if anya and tashi were no longer friends what is stopping her from sleeping with art one last time?
she owes loyalty to no one anymore.
she kissed him back.
"come to my room."

—⁠☆

anya met with patrick two hours later in the hotel room, guilt weighing heavy on her cranium.
"i'm such a bad friend."
patrick said cutting through the silence. though he didn't give specifics anya knew exactly who he was talking about.
"you aren't friends anymore."
anya quipped.
"still! i fucked his wife anya! even if we aren't friends i'm still a bad person for that, am i not? if you completely ignore the fact that it's tashi fucking someones wife is a horrible thing to do!"

"patrick, art dropped you so he can fuck your ex girlfriend! why do you care!"
"jesus fucking christ because i care about him! don't you understand what compassion is? he could treat me like dogshit on his shoe and i'd just be glad i was on his shoe!"

at this point patrick was starting to tear up again. anya could tell what he was trying to say but for some reason he just couldn't. she understood. she understood because that's how she felt about tashi.
she held him in her lap while he choked on muffled sobs.

"patrick, theres nothing else i can tell you other than stay away from them. you won't be able to get over it unless you cut them out completely."
he couldn't do anything but mumble in agreement.
anya felt like a horrible person giving this advice after doing what she had done...

...what a fucking hypocrite.

WELL YOU KNOW HIS NAME...