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The banquet was held like it was every year, on the hosting teams Exy court. Banners hung from the walls like dripping blood, tables stacked together to form perfectly measured lines – the poor imitation of a high school lunchroom. All the teams in the district clumped together in a mess of fake diplomacy and mediocre chitchat.
The Foxes arrived fashionably late, the crowd having already dispersed to find their assigned tables. They filed onto the court in an uncoordinated single file line, Dan, their fearless leader, at the front, and Wymack, their scary guard dog, at the rear.
Kevin was strategically placed in the middle, sandwiched between Andrew and Matt, two armored walls there to safely box him in. The Foxes walked onto the court with the anticipation of war; the Ravens were waiting for them, guns at the ready.
Dan hesitated at the crest of the crowd. Nicky narrowly avoided crashing into her, steadying himself with two hands on her shoulders. She cursed quietly beneath her breath, then with newfound confidence, she held her head up high and declared to the team, “Get ready, kids, the party is about to start.”
The Foxes followed her into the deep end, endless trust for the woman who refused to lead them astray.
“Don’t kill anyone,” Wymack shouted in parting, disappearing into the crowd to find the rest of the coaches, Abby hot on his heels.
The closer they got to their table, the more obvious it became what kind of night they were settling in for. As they approached, the distinct shades of black and red sent blaring alarm bells ringing in their collective minds. Andrew felt Kevin begin to shake at his back, his anxiety a palpable thing that rippled through them all. Even with the criminal amount of vodka that rushed through Kevin’s bloodstream, fear consumed him.
The Ravens did not acknowledge the Foxes’ approach. The blatant disrespect was expected but unwarranted given the circumstances. Dan stepped up to take her rightful place adjacent to Riko Moriyama and extended her hand in greeting. The resulting handshake was limp like a wet noddle. Andrew watched as Dan clenched her jaw, staunching her anger with pleasantries she must have learned from someone better than Wymack.
“You’re the woman who captains a Class I team,” Riko muttered in greeting, the once over that followed was soaked with disdain. To Riko, they were meeting on uneven ground - the Exy King and the shit under his shoe. Dan smiled through the contempt, shaking his hand with an enthusiasm Andrew knew she didn’t feel. As she withdrew her hand, she wiped her palm against the edge of her dress. The motion was meant to be subtle but purposeful. By his resulting sneer, the insult had hit its mark.
When Dan pulled her chair out to sit, the rest of the Foxes followed suit. Andrew took the seat next to her, Kevin to his right. Riko was much too close for comfort, but Andrew knew he was too afraid of ruining his reputation to try anything uncouth in public.
The empty seat by Riko’s left was blatant, forcing Kevin to bristle at the jagged knife that chopped up the effortless synchronicity that the Ravens were most known for. The absentee would surely pay for the threat it posed to their image.
The missing Raven was obvious, even to the less observant Foxes. Without the flare of red hair and the jagged smile, there was a silence so loud it echoed in all of their ears. Andrew felt his absence like a hole in his chest.
To Riko’s right, Jean Moreau turned his attention to Kevin, cold, hate-filled eyes pierced through the striker. “Hello, Kevin.” Even though Andrew saw the rage and hurt as he looked at Kevin, the words came out soft.
“Jean,” Kevin replied quietly.
They stared at each other for a long moment, unblinking. Jean’s eyes were icebergs that threatened to freeze Kevin to his seat.
Andrew quickly became bored, leaning forward to break the immovable eye contact between them. He met Jean’s gaze with an empty look of his own, not even the ghost of emotion behind the eyes. Jean looked away, annoyed, shoulders tense with unease.
“I see you’re a player short, Moriyama,” Andrew said casually, leaning back in his chair as he twirled his butter knife between quick, nimble fingers. Riko’s eyes tracked the motion. “Trouble in paradise?”
Riko’s face shifted like the rain, features hardening before softening in an attempt to conceal the unchecked reaction. It was too bad that Andrew was watching with hawklike focus.
“Nathaniel is running late,” Riko said through clenched teeth.
“Oh?” Andrew tilted his head slightly. “Have you slackened the leash?” Andrew taunted the Ravens’ captain, taking a slow sip of water as he peered unerringly at the anger that flickered across his face. The rest of the table was tense, waiting for the final ball to drop. Dan’s hands clenched at her sides below the table, half in anticipation, half in fear.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Riko finally replied.
“Of course not,” Andrew said, humming. “I just wonder how much power you truly have, if you can’t even get one measly player to attend a mandatory banquet. How much loyalty do you really inspire, Moriyama?” Andrew’s voice was even, unbiased by emotion. A vein in Riko’s throat throbbed, anger clawing its way up his esophagus like acid.
“What would you know about loyalty, Minyard?” Riko snarled, “You have to bargain with your own family.”
“And you beat your team into submission,” Andrew’s reply was quick, aimed and ready to fire. “Do you think that makes you wanted?”
Andrew saw the endless pit of rage that filled Riko’s gaze, snarling as if he wanted to reach across the table and end it. Andrew smiled with all his teeth.
“Alright, this conversation is over,” Dan cut in, “Matt, go get coach.”
Matt was on his feet and sprinting before the words fully left her mouth. The awkward silence that ensued was crisp. Andrew did not dare break eye contact with the Exy King.
“I had rather hoped that we could be civil with each other, for sake of the game. But clearly that isn’t possible. Stay away from mine, and we’ll stay away from yours.” With that, Dan stood, the Foxes slowly rising to follow her.
“Kevin is not yours,” Riko said to their retreating backs. They turned as one. Riko sat slouched in his seat, a king on his thrown, unbothered by the spectacle before him.
Kevin looked two seconds from caving in as Andrew stepped up to the table to tower above him. “You want to bet?” Andrew pressed his palms flat against the tabletop and leaned forward into Riko’s snarling face. “Kevin and I have a deal, which means, your prior contract with Kevin Day is null and void. Kevin is mine.” He paused to enjoy the silence that followed. “I don’t share, Moriyama.” With those parting words, Andrew straightened and turned his back on the captain and his flock of caged birds.
He fisted the back of Kevin’s suit jacket and shoved him towards the coach that stood awaiting them. Wymack’s arms were crossed as he peered down at them. The Foxes only allowed themselves a second to feel the shame of disappointing David Wymack before they let triumph win.
“I thought I told you to play nice?” Coach scolded at their approach.
“No, you said don’t kill anyone. Which I didn’t,” Andrew was kind enough to point out, dragging a thumb across his bottom lip to fight the urge to smile - a habit learned but not forgotten.
“No, you just murdered his ego, Minyard, damn,” Matt said, a look of pride shinning in his eyes.
“Enough,” Wymack’s voice was gruff, “I’m going to go get your tables switched. Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” He pointed one single finger at Andrew before disappearing again.
―
Andrew could only disappear long enough to make a rushed phone-call. He left Kevin under Wymack and Abby’s watchful eyes and made a beeline for the locker rooms.
He pressed the speaker to his ear and listened to the call ring out. His heart thumped in time with each shrill note of the dial tone.
Riko would never risk hurting Nathaniel Wesninski enough to break him, lest he risk the wrath of the Butcher. The thought didn’t help dull the sharp sting of panic that struck his heart at the sound of Neil’s voicemail:
“ You’ve reached Nathaniel Wesninski, don’t leave a message and I won’t get back to you.”
He slammed the phone shut with too much force, fighting the surging panic that threatened to take him out at the knees. He ran a frantic, unsteady hand through his gelled hair and almost missed the sound of the door creaking open, followed by the soft click of approaching footsteps. He spun just in time to catch a flash of red hair.
“’Drew,” Neil whispered, stepping into Andrew’s bubble like he belonged there. The words ghosted across Andrew’s cheek like the press of a too-soft palm.
“I fucking hate you,” Andrew spat, surging forward to grab two fistfuls of Neil’s hair and smashed their lips together. Neil’s resounding gasp was worth the taste of blood on his tongue.
“God, I fucking missed you,” Neil breathed against his mouth, swiping his tongue across Andrew’s bottom lip to taste his own blood. He pressed their mouths together, hard enough to hurt, to leave a mark that Andrew knew Neil would cherish until it inevitably disappeared. Their kisses stung with their desire and burned with the things they couldn’t say.
Andrew couldn’t help his desperate grabs at skin, burning with a need to feel Neil against him. He ripped his tucked-in shirt from his pants and spread his palms along the expanse of Neil’s chest, feeling him, wanting him with everything he was.
Neil’s body was a familiar winding road, pressing his own unmarred flesh to his scattering of scars was like driving home at the end of the day, a path he intimately knew. Like almost everything else in Andrew’s life, he would know the new scars from the old. It was like relearning him every time they crossed paths.
It was a struggle to pull away from each other, but Andrew needed to see him as much as he needed to have him in his hands. Neil was the picture of debauchery, shirt tucked under his armpits, hair askew atop his head, cheeks rosy, lips cherry red and swollen. Andrew had enough mind to imprint the image to memory, expecting to remember this very moment the next time he was missing him.
Andrew’s whole body went rigid as he truly took in Neil’s face. The world stopped around them as Andrew cradled Neil’s head between two careful palms, like he was porcelain on the brink of shattering. “What the fuck happened to your face,” he spat the question like a threat – a promise.
The right side of Neil’s face was a Jackson Pollock painting, an even blend of reds and purples and blues. The sharp edge of his cheekbone was scabbed, presumably from the force of whatever had struck the blow. His right eye was bloodshot, the vessels having burst upon impact. He looked like a crime scene personified.
“A racket,” Neil replied coolly, holding Andrew’s wrists between unrestricting, nimble fingers.
“ Who? ” Andrew demanded through gritted teeth.
“Riko,” Neil responded in a soft, lilting voice that he only ever used on Andrew.
“Why?” Andrew’s anger was written in every ridged edge of his body, every pulsing vein in his forehead, his throat.
“I beat him.” Neil’s smile was loud, cracking along his face like ice.
“What?” Andrew’s words were devoid of emotion, anger beginning to sizzle out.
“ I beat him, ‘Drew,” Neil said in wonder, tightening his hold. “I beat him in practice. I didn’t even see him swing his racket. He did it in front of everyone.”
“But you knew it was coming. And you let him hit you anyway,” Andrew said simply.
“Yes. I’ve done the calculations, Andrew. There’s only one way to unravel an empire,” Neil explained, “Take it out from the inside and watch it crumble to the ground.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.” Andrew’s hands hardened on Neil’s face, thumb pressing softly into the tender flesh of his bruise. He hissed with the ache.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Neil said, leaning forward to press his forehead to Andrew’s. “This is my only way out, ‘Drew.”
“I know,” it pained him to say it, closing his eyes as the words left him. “You’re not allowed to die on me, rabbit.”
“I know,” Neil said, a soft smile on his face.
__
Andrew returned to the court filled with a newfound energy and a need for vengeance. Ripe with the memory of Neil’s bruises, anger thrummed under his skin like electricity fueling him.
He scanned the room for Riko Moriyama, his eyes skipping over the clumped Foxes and their coach, roaming over useless players and their unimportant counterparts. Finally, he found Riko in the furthest corner of the room, flanked by his number 4 and the rest of his sad excuse of a team.
Andrew did not hesitate, his eyes narrowing in as red consumed his vision. He crossed the room in fast, even strides, not stopping even as Renee moved to follow him. Riko’s back was turned when Andrew made it to him, but he was quick to spin just in time to meet Andrew’s fist. It was hard enough to crunch against bone, Riko stumbling back with the force, tripping and crashing to the ground. None of the Ravens moved to stop him as he crouched over the captain.
“Hey Riko,” Andrew taunted, “I told you not to touch my things.”
“I didn’t fucking touch Kevin,” Riko said, teeth red with blood.
“I’m not talking about Kevin,” Andrew said, watching Riko’s brows furrow in confusion before his eyes went wide in understanding. “If it happens again, I will kill you. That is a promise.” He stood, turning his back on Riko and the Ravens, unconcerned by the threat they posed. The Foxes stood by him and watched in silent horror.
“Coach is gonna kill us,” Dan whispered, eyes still locked onto Riko’s crumpled form.
“What the hell is going on here!” Wymack’s voice bellowed around and through them as he shoved his way to the front of the forming crowd.
“He started it,” Andrew said, lifting his bruised hands in surrender.
Wymack wasn’t having it for one fucking second. “Shut it, Minyard. Get your shit we’re leaving.” He gestured aggressively to get the Foxes moving only to be halted by Coach Moriyama’s arrival. Wymack tried not to recoil from his stern, sneering face.
“Do we have a problem here, Coach Wymack?” He asked carefully.
“No, just a disagreement between our teams. I’ll keep mine from causing any more trouble if you can do the same.”
“Alright,” Tetsuji merely said, eyeing Wymack with evident disdain.
“I don’t get paid enough for this,” Wymack muttered under his breath, “Get your asses moving, I’ve had enough of this night.”
Andrew noted that the coach refrained from scolding him for causing trouble, he didn’t even bother with so much as throwing a look in his direction.
They made quick work of getting off that court and out the side exit doors, abandoning any thoughts of changing before getting on the bus. They paused just outside the court doors as Kevin began his downward spiral into panic. Andrew watched it happen in vague interest, debating lighting a cigarette to enjoy the show. Kevin’s breathing began to stutter, his arms coming up to cradle his head and all Andrew could think was, who would jump to his rescue first?
“ God, why did you do that?” Kevin wailed through his panic, “He’s going to kill us all.”
The rest of the Foxes moved together to create a half circle around him, shielding him from possible passersby.
“Good to know you still don’t have a spine, Kevin,” a new voice said into the ensuing panic. Andrew would know that voice anywhere, even in death.
The Foxes flinched as one as they stared and gaped. Nathaniel Wesninski leaned against the concrete wall of the stadium, cigarette between soft, red lips. Andrew couldn’t look away.
“ Neil?” Kevin startled. “What happened to your face?” His panic momentarily forgotten in the face of an old friend.
Neil didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to take a slow drag of his cigarette. Andrew watched the tendons in his throat, imagining the feeling beneath his palm. He threw the cigarette with a flick of his finger before turning his full attention on Kevin.
“Kevin, Kevin,” Neil taunted, grabbing Kevin’s attention with two powerful fists. “Are you listening?” A nod. “Good. I’m only going to say this once, so pay attention.” He swiped a tongue along his bottom lip and moved one step closer.
The Foxes were on edge, indecisive and wary of the newcomer. He was merely a Raven to them, a number 3 etched onto his cheek like a brand of ownership. Kevin was lackluster, soft with emotion and comfortable in his familiarity with this man.
Wymack stepped in between Kevin and Neil, halting them, “Woah, let’s back up for a second and calm down.”
“It’s okay, Coach. This is Neil,” Kevin said, pressing a hand to Wymack’s arm to stop him.
“Neil?” Wymack asked, half-turning back to Kevin, “The same Neil that broke you out of the nest?” The Foxes bristled at this new piece of information. Questions were shouted at them in quick succession but went ignored.
“Yes,” Kevin replied.
“What happened to keeping that a secret, Kev?” Neil said, tilting his body to the side to peer past Wymack to scowl at Kevin.
“I forced it out of him,” Wymack said, quick to defend.
“That makes me feel better about sending him to you,” Neil said sarcastically, turning his back to the Foxes, his interest lost as quickly as it had come.
“What happened to your face?” Kevin asked again.
“What happened to your hand?” A taunt and an answer all in one.
“Why?” Kevin asked, nonplussed.
“For the same reasons, I presume,” Neil replied, procuring another cigarette. Unconsciously, he handed the deck to Andrew who took it without thought. Kevin frowned at the casual contact.
“You should have left with me.” His voice was sad, wrought with guilt and regret that Neil had no interest in nursing.
“Grow up, Kevin,” Neil said, switching to French as he flicked his lighter and lit the end of his cigarette. Andrew took this too, when it was handed to him. “You and I are not the same. You need to unlearn your fears and stop being a spineless slug. You are letting him win by cowering every time he calls.
“When he comes for you, you will stand your ground – you will tell him no. I did not risk my life to get you out, just for you to throw it all away. If you are not going to do it for yourself, then do it for me and do it for Jean. The longer you shrink under his power the more he wins.”
“He’ll take it out on you,” Kevin said.
“I can take it. Stop letting him win.”
“He’ll break you.”
“He wishes he knew how.”
Andrew watched Neil speak, noting the subtle shift of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, the firm press of his lips. He didn’t know what they were saying, but he could imagine it was something Kevin needed to hear.
Wymack didn’t look like he could afford Neil the same confidence, watching them talk with cautious intent.
Neil discarded his cigarette, watching it roll and sputter out before turning to leave. He ghosted fingers along Andrew’s arm as he passed – a hello and a goodbye all in one. It took everything in him not to reach out, to keep him there.
“I’d say it was nice meeting you all, but then I would be lying,” Neil said, shooting a two-fingered salute as he passed.
“We can offer you help, if you need it, kid,” Wymack said, just as Neil’s fingers latched onto the door handle. Neil paused, hand tightening against the ancient metal. He turned his head to look at Wymack. His face was impassive, but Andrew could see the cogs turning.
Kindness had never come easily to Neil; it would always be a gamble with his life on the line. Kindness was a knife pressed against his throat, sawing away slowly at the delicate flesh.
“I appreciate the offer, Coach Wymack, but you can’t help me.”
“I can if you’d let me,” Wymack said.
Neil’s resulting smile was sad, aging him beyond his years. “I wish I could. You have no idea,” he said it to Wymack but his eyes were only on Andrew. He felt the statement in his chest, like glass shattering, it spread. He ached with the pain of missing him, even as he stood there looking at him like he was the answer to all of the mysteries of the universe.
They had seconds before Neil would walk through the court doors and not look back. Andrew would have to get on that bus and leave him to face that nightmare alone. And there Wymack was, offering him a way out, and he looked at Andrew like he wanted to say yes.
It tore a visceral hole through his very being as Andrew watched him go, unsure if Neil would ever come back.