No Longer A Game - Sidemen FF

Chapter 30

CraftBattleDuty
When I stretch out this morning I am utterly alone, and it immediately reminds me that I chased Vikk off.

I sigh and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I rest my head in my heads. "Idiot," I whisper.

I deserve every cut, he'd whispered.

I don't know why he can't see what I do. He's amazing.

He's the cheerful centre of the Pack and the core of the Sidemen. His stupid puns are terrible but hilarious. He's really clever. He's really entertaining.

And he's not worthless at all.

So why does he think he deserves the abuse he deals out to himself?

There's a knock at the door and Simon sticks his head in. "We're headed to the pitch in fifteen. Vikk'll be there."

"Okay," I sigh, thinking of the aforementioned boy.

"Simon?" I ask as he turns.

"Sup Lachlan?" he asks, turning back with an easy-going grin.

"He really is struggling, isn't he?" I state seriously.

Simon's grin is replaced with a solemn look as he leans against the door. "Yeah," he sighs. "He is."

"He thinks he deserves it," I sigh. "The self-abuse. That's why he does it."

Simon sighs again but looks me straight in the eyes. "You know we do care about him, right? I know we do a rubbish job of showing it, but we do."

I nod. "I know. But he doesn't."

You can see it in their videos, beneath all the shots and swearing.

How encouraging they are when they play FIFA or soccer with him. Or when they tried to teach him how to play soccer properly.

"Remind him," Simon says, breaking me from thought. "Every day, remind him that he's not worthless. Tell him that he's amazing."

"Thanks, man," I say. "I will."

"Now go get ready," Simon orders. "Leaving in ten."

+++

We pull up in front of the pitch and hurry in, each carrying a camera or soccer ball.

Vikk is talking with Tobi and when he looks up, he offers me a half-smile.

"Hey," I greet him, jogging over.

Vikk catches me off-guard with a hug. "I'm sorry," he murmurs.

Tobi shoots me a grin before jogging over to Simon.

"What for?" I ask, confused.

"For everything," Vikk whispers.

I pull back and look directly into his eyes. I can see the self-loathing in them, as negative words without a doubt swim around his mind.

"You're amazing," I promise him. "The best person I know. Now let's go play soccer."

Vikk chuckles as I take him by the hand. "It's football, Lachlan. You're in the UK."

"Well then what do you call our football?" I complain as Vikk leads me over to the others.

"We call it American football," Vikk says, smiling.

"Yeah, why is that?" I protest. "Why isn't it Australian football? Like what the heck? Is it because we supposedly all live in the desert?"

Vikk laughs and I smile warmly.