Playing for Ruin

Made it worse

Ferdi

I watched Karel leave school like he was being chased. He tucked a hand in his hoodie with tensed shoulders as always.

I clicked my tongue as I tapped the steering wheel with my finger. He was trying to run away from me, but gods knew he couldn't escape me.

It was his fault I noticed him. And I can't let go till I see those emerald eyes of his beg. Till his running mouth gets to good use.

He made the static in my head feel like noise. And I hated noise.

I hated that when he walked past me with Dael’s arm over his shoulder, my chest did something that wasn’t in the medical files.

So I did what I always did when things got loud.

I made it worse. I blocked him from the team.

If I couldn't have him, no one else could watch him run either.

Last night I'd turn in the register without his name on it. Coach Mavis asked. I told him, “He doesn't fit for number 7"

But the truth was, I'd waited outside his house for twenty minutes for him to show up. For me to get a glimpse of his glare and long ginger hair. I always thought of removing a strand whenever he pissed me off.

He never did.

He always amused me. That's why I wanna press him into a corner and make him crumble beneath me.

My hands paused when last night flashed in my head. He stalled like I was baptizing him with cold water.

Did he resent me that much?

I was interrupted when Brandon opened the passenger seat. “Your dad is burning the hideout down. What are we gonna do?"

My jaw tightened, he found us again. Pedro always finds ways to get on my nerves. To make me follow his cowardly ways.

I couldn't give up the gang. Not when Gabriel exits.

“Tell them about the new ones,” I picked my phone lazily from the empty seat.

I switched off the screen when it opened Karel's training section. I couldn't let anyone know I was a dirty stalker.

But Brandon saw. “Man, you're so done. Now watching his clips." He sighed, getting into the car.

"f**k off,” I glared and he laughed.

"You left porn to watch him? Wow, nice move when you're still dating his brother."

I slammed my fist on the steering. Don't make me come after you,” I growled.

He didn't even flinch. Brandon never flinches at my words. “This is dangerous if anyone finds you out."

He was right, but who gives a damn?

"What I'm I supposed to do when he keeps blocking my contacts?” I turned the screen to Brandon's face.

His eyes widened exaggeratedly. “What? You created five accounts to chat him up? And he kept blocking you?”

I nodded simply, “What was I supposed to do?”

Brandon slammed his hands in his face. " Both of you are sick.”

"Dad told me that already." I deadpanned. Everyone knew I was sick in the brain.

The doctor called it whatever processing imperilment.

Dad called it useless.

Brandon placed a hand on my neck to feel my pulse. “When last did you see a therapist?"

I tilted my head away from his hands.

A flash memory of an encounter with therapists. She had said I was treatable. She never returned after one meeting.

The second asked me what I felt when mom died. I told her I didn't feel like talking.

She asked again. I told her the wallpaper was ugly.

The third, said something about needing love. I strangled her till she passed out on the couch.

“I'm good, I don't need more problems, I rested my head back as the traffic light turned red.

Brandon turned to me. “You're good, that's why you removed an innocent player from the team."

I pressed my head back on the chair, that name again, can't everyone not say something about him. Coach Mavis, now Brandon.

I didn't remove him entirely, he could still get it back, somehow.

My phone buzzed, I retrieved it quickly, only to find a message from Pedro. My shoulders slumped.

Brandon gave me a knowing smirk.

I opened the text, it was a picture of the hideout, the wall burnt to ugly. The paintings all melted down. Then a visible painting on the wall. “You're sloppy, son.”

That was Pedro's way of doing things, he wouldn't text like normal people do. He shows evidence like he just did now.

“You have another account?” I flung my lazy lashes to Brandon.

“What do you want to use it for?” He frowned.

“To chat Karel up. What else?” I shrugged.

“What are you going to do about your father?”

What I'm I going to do about my ass father? He could go to hell. “Just give me what I asked.”

Brandon shook his head.

No matter how I wanted to block out Pedro's message it still kept up in my head. I didn't know whose image was occupying my skull– definitely Karel.

I switched off the phone and closed my eyes.

Waiting for the green light.

My phone buzzed again.

Now it was a call from Zayne.

My boyfriend.

I didn't wait to see what it was, I stepped off the car.

Brandon shouted something I didn't hear.

I didn't answer. I went into the block. Zayne was there leaning on the wall. I wanted to tell him to get lost but he smiled and ran up to me. "I've been waiting. You didn't reply to my text.”

I hummed a reply. My body moved without control when he came closer. “Let's change places. Karel doesn't like it at home."

I went stiff, my chest suddenly went tight. He talks about me.

A hot memory flashed in. Karel's groans, he was trying to hold on the basketball court, his face turned away from me, chest heaving with my movement. It messed with my brain.

"So where do you want it?" I asked as he circled his hands around my waist. I wanted to pull away. But he was only doing this for money and I have to give it to him because I'm horny and a bastard.

“Wherever you want it.” Zayne smiled again and he kissed me. I kissed back. I felt nothing, no heat like I used to feel it just tasted like noise. Then emerald eyes flashed across my mind.

Damn him.

Zayne's back touched the table and he leaned into me more. My chest felt tight like I'd swallowed poison, I pulled away and staggered to the corner. I took my phone out and texted vice. “If you want your position back, come."

Zayne laughed close to my mouth like he didn't hear the static in my head. “Problem?” He whispered, fingers dragging down my chest.

I didn't answer. My eyes never left the door. My phone stayed dark. Two minutes turned into five.

He wasn't coming.

Of course, he wasn't. I'd just benched him in front of the whole team, and he saw me going in with Zayne.

“Ferdi," Zayne tugged my shirt. "Focus.”

I shoved him back. Not just hard enough for him to pull out of his trans.

“Get out."

His smile dropped. “What?”

“Get out. I'll stack your cash."

He stared at me, then grabbed his bag and slammed the door. The room went quiet. Too quiet. My chest tightened. I picked up my phone. But the creaking sound of the door made me turn. My heartbeat slowed. It wasn't Zayne. Neither was it Brandon. It was no other person but–

Karel