The Pages Within [BxB]

Pressure Mounts

I'm drowning.

Not literally, of course. But that's what it feels like—like each breath is heavier than the last, like something is pulling me under, suffocating me. I'm being crushed beneath the weight of everything—football, school, Ava, and now, Jason. It's all piling up, and it feels like I'm carrying a load I was never built to bear. And no matter how hard I try to keep it together, everything is slipping through my fingers, falling apart piece by piece.

Football used to be my escape. The field was my sanctuary—the one place I could shut out everything else and focus on one thing: winning. But lately, even that doesn't feel the same. I can't concentrate, can't find that tunnel vision that used to guide me through every practice, every game. Coach is on me harder than ever, and I know why. The championship is right around the corner, and everyone's looking to me to lead. Everyone is counting on me to bring us home.

I know the stakes. I know what's expected of me. But the pressure—it's fucking suffocating.

The moment I step onto the field, it's like I flip a switch. I put on the mask. I become David, the quarterback—the guy everyone depends on, the leader who doesn't crack under pressure. But inside? Inside, I'm falling apart. Each practice feels longer, the drills feel harder, and no matter how much I push myself, I can't shake the feeling that I'm not enough.

Not enough for the team. Not enough for my parents. Not enough for Ava.

And definitely not enough for myself.

Day 15

I'm losing it. I can feel myself slipping, and I don't know how to stop it.

Football used to be the one place where everything made sense. Work hard, lead the team, win games. It was simple. But now, it's like nothing I do is good enough. Coach keeps telling me to step up, to be the one who carries us to the championship, but I don't know if I can. Every time I'm out there, it feels like I'm a step behind. Like I'm not the same player I used to be.

I see it in the way the guys look at me. They don't say anything, but I can tell they're starting to lose faith. I'm losing faith in myself too.

And then there's Jason.

I don't know how to handle it. I see him around campus, and every time I do, it's like I can't breathe. I try to avoid him, but he's fucking everywhere. And it's not just seeing him—it's the way I feel when I do. It's this pull, this constant tug I can't explain. No matter how hard I try to focus on football, Ava, school—he's always there, in the back of my mind.

I hate it. I hate that he's taking up so much space in my head when I should be thinking about the team, about the game, about my future.

But I can't stop.

I slam the journal shut, the words blurring as my chest tightens. It's been two weeks since I started writing, and instead of helping me figure things out, it's only made everything worse. Putting down what I'm feeling was supposed to give me clarity, but instead, it feels like I've opened a door I can't close. The more I write, the more real it becomes. The more it consumes me.

I rub my hands over my face, leaning back against the wall in my dorm room. The room is dark, the only light coming from the desk lamp, and even that dim glow feels too harsh. My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I already know who it is—Ava.

I glance at the screen: Miss you. Want to hang out tomorrow?

I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen. I haven't seen her in three days. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't know what to say anymore. Things with Ava used to be easy. She's been my anchor since sophomore year, the girl who believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. But now? Now, it feels like I'm lying to her every time we're together.