Clash of the Titans
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Note: Mikey is one of Eddy's team mates if you can't remember.
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I stare into the mirror, the sore head from my hangover blurring my vision - a combination of alcohol and a bad night's sleep making me regret last night. Perpetuated pounding elongates my anger, every aspect of the morning pissing me off for nothing.
The chirping of birds now a shrilling alarm; the rays of the sun now spears of heat; the locker room banter now amplified battlecries. I sigh in exhaustion; the last time I slept properly was cocooned in Justin's embrace.
"Edmond White. You have got this. You are going to destroy this. Riseford is going to secure another consecutive championship." I whisper to myself, the motivating message an effort to eliminate the accumulating psychological doubt.
"I saw him out there - make sure you go after him. We will get our revenge." One of my teammates murmurs to Mikey as I rejoin the cohort, his strong, bulging arm swinging around my neck. I dismiss their game strategy in favour of my own sanity - my focus tainted by knowing that Justin will be on the other side of the halfway line. We should be on the same side. In the same space. Together.
"What's that under your neck? Did someone give you something special last night?" Mikey asks giddily as he pulls up beside me, his pure height blocking the ceiling light. I turn to the mirror, confused by his question - alarmed as the purple mark on my neck peeks through from under my uniform.
"Yeah...it was from someone special." I whisper more so to myself, his attention returning back to the cheering and holler of the locker-room after slapping me on the back; my fingers crawling up slowly to caress the spot - evoking the same ecstasy from last night. Why does this feel good? It shouldn't feel good right?
The stadium roars to life as we exit out of the locker room, helmets in hands - lining up across the field in preparation for the national anthem. The cheering crowd a rolling wave of red and blue, the hallways segregating the competing universities.
"GO EDMOND BABY! HAVE A GOOD GAME! YOU CAN DO IT!" I search for the direction of the screeching voice, Tralee's fingers twiddling eagerly my way - the skimpy cheerleader uniform leaving little to imagination. Unable to suppress my frustration I roll my eyes, her smile disappearing as her hand slowly droops down.
The crowd's thunderous cheer reignites as Buckingham walks out onto the field, their signature red banners flowing either side of them - arranging themselves into a reflected line up on the opposite side. My eyes scan eagerly through the opposing lineup, pausing on Justin; nay; halted.
His lips curl into a smirk, mirroring the growing expression on my own face - distance unable to obscure his glowing eyes; the excited crowd silenced in his wake. A single wink sends shudders through my whole body, the minute action invisible to everyone but me.
'Good luck Eddy.' He mouths to me - my adoring eyes the only pair to see. A blush spreads across my cheeks as the national anthem starts - casting the arena into a harmonious melody. The ending of the song signals the simultaneous start of the game, my eyes unwilling to peel away from his body as we retreat to our appropriate positions - our view of each other cloaked via padded players.
The starting whistle jerks the game into motions, a clash of red and blue battling to maneuver the ball down to the respective end zones. My eyes dart upwards as the ball whistles over my head, a Buckingham player shoving me out of the way as he catches the ball - taking it to the end zone and scoring the first touchdown of the match.
"Fuck." I mutter under my breath, mimicking the frustrated groans and growls of my teammates. The scenario repeats itself, Buckingham scoring again and again - our team forced to watch as their score ascends into the double digits; with us only able to steal a point here or there - their impenetrable defense barricading the end zone.
The halftime whistle calls the scattered players back to each side of the field, my eyes roaming just in time to catch Justin's wink as he slips off his helmet and morphs into his team huddle - his subtle action ignored by the applauding crowd.
"YOU'RE DOING SO GOOD BABY!" Tralee smacks into me, drawing my attention back to the team - her nails clawing into my uniform as she suffocates me with her embrace. Trying not to cause a scene, I stand motionlessly - Justin's confession running through my mind as my blank stare diminishes the vibrant colours in her eyes. "Jeez what happened to you? You're acting like someone stabbed you or something?" She barks out, confused by my cold demeanour - her playful tone mildly aggravating.
"Someone did did stab me. They stabbed me in the back." I retort quickly, dimming the mood as our conversation transfers into a hush, her fingers snaking around my arm.
"Edmond baby, what are you on about?" Her question lathered via her soft voice, the convincing tone making me truly consider whether she really doesn't know what I'm on about. No. She knows.
"I'm breaking up with you." I shake out of her grip, walking back to the team now drawing their attention to our scuffle.
"Edmond baby I lov-"
"And by the way Tralee, I hate being called Edmond." My statement dismisses her pleas, causing her to run off into the bleachers - her streaming tears attracting the attention of nearby onlookers.
The team pretends like they weren't listening as I rejoin the group huddle, just in time to hear the coach's critiques of our strategies and layouts - his voice condemned to a muffle as I truly process my actions. Oh my God. I just broke up with my girlfriend. What the fuck is wrong with me?
My inner turmoil is dismissed as the end of halftime is called, and the team ushers me back onto the field - the underlying anxiety starting to accumulate.
"You know what to do. It's time to take out their best player" One of my teammates calls out to the group as I slip my helmet over my head. What is he talking about? What does he mean take out the best player? Dissolving the thought, I return my attention back to the field - scanning for Justin.
Finding him at the very back - his attention is dedicated to the crowd as he waves giddily at someone. I follow his line of sight, the blond hair guy from his room and the mall waving back at him. Ugh why is he here. And why has he get his arm around a girl? I thought he was with Justin?
The whistle dilutes my questions into wisps of a thought, Buckingham passing the ball throughout their formation in order to confuse the team.
From the corner of my eye, I see Mikey dashing through the defense - his unavoidable outline moving past the distracted players, divorcing away from the trajectory of the ball. I watch confusedly as he goes in the opposite direction of everyone else, his eyes obviously set on something else, or someone else; I scan the outlying players, a process of elimination leaving only a few left. Oh shit. He's going for Justin.
My realisation comes too late as Mikey's large frame charges full force into Justin, the contact causing me to wince as the air leaves my lungs - almost as if I was the one who was just got bowled over. Time freezes as Justin's body limply flows through the air, a delicate leaf at the mercy of a storming hurricane - the eyes of the stadium watching in unison as his body hits the ground, a shocking silence amplifying the situation.
I start running over to Mikey as he slowly backs away, assessing the damage he's done - a mixture of Buckingham players, staff and nurses swarming around Justin in haste.
"WHAT THE FUCK DUDE!" I scream into Mikey's face as the frenzied teams block my site from Justin, the onsite staff carrying him off on a gurney - a red anguish fuelling my screaming inquisitiveness.
"Fuck. I didn't mean to do it that hard. But he was the one who stole our trophy. I remember his face Captain; don't worry, I caught him." He grins, almost as if he's proud of himself. A concoction of my hangover, breaking up with Tralee and Mikey's actions causes the blood in my veins to boil, my mind blanking as my fist connects with Mikey's jaw. His shocked eyes are unable to react fast enough as saliva trails from his mouth - devastated via my swing.
His shocked reaction mirrors my own; neither of us truly believing that I just did that.
The stadium falls into chaos as the tournament becomes physical, a blurring flurry of blue and red fists finishing the game. Each of the uniformed sides trying to land punches on the other. Slowly I back out of the chaos, the onlooking crowd shocked by the physical brawl in the middle of the field - my mind venturing somewhere else.
I start peeling off my uniform, my game armour now suffocatingly constricting. I need to leave. I need to get out of here. And most importantly, I need to find Justin.
A/N
To be honest, I had to look up where to score in football, because I've never heard of an end zone; and we don't play football in my country - we play rugby instead; so I hope that the terminology in the chapter was correct! :)
Anyways, that was quite a stressful chapter to write; so much action compressed into a chapter's worth of words. And, simultaneously, a lot of bridges burnt between characters. What are your guys thoughts? :)
PS. Let's hope Justin's alright.
- YOP
YOU ARE READING
I saw the Captain in his Underwear (BoyxBoy)
Roman d'amour"I'm glad we bumped into each other tonight Justin." "Me too Eddy. Me too." As the final words leave Justin's mouth, we drift off into sleep - his arms engulfing me in a blanket of warmth and protection. The alcohol could be affecting my senses ri...
