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When Jamie’s dad started showing up to Jamie’s premier league matches, acting as if he had every right to be there among all the other strangers who had no idea what Jamie had to go through to get to where he was, he would constantly barge his way into the club building after games and give Jamie a piece of his mind. The first few times, Jamie hesitantly allowed his father to spout his tirades about how Jamie was finally a man but still needed to dominate out there on the field and stop playing like a pussy, goddamn it. But by the third or fourth time, he learned that even when he tried to stop his dad from disrupting his post-game peace, it only made it worse.
So, he sat listening to his father rant loudly, praying for it to be over, for this rant to be the last one even though it never was.
“You’ve got to be the best out there. Look, you’re a top player right now, yeah? But that won’t mean shit if you don’t keep it up and become the best in the entire league. Maybe that way you’d find yourself a nice girl that can put up with your bullshit so you can stop being a sorry excuse of a single man!”
Like you’d know anything about that , Jamie wanted to retort. He didn’t say it out loud, of course. He never did.
His father shoved him on the shoulder, and Jamie tried not to flinch or show any signs of weakness. “Don’t be soft. You shouldn’t be playing for a team, your team should be playing for you. Don't you ever forget that.”
Jamie hoped his steely expression could hide his boiling resentment. Of course, his father, who took away the opportunity for him to grow up in a stable family environment, would be telling him to throw away the only opportunity he had for finding a new family among his teammates for himself. And of course, because he’s his father’s son, he listened.
—
He’s in a better place now at Richmond. Jamie dropped his egotistical macho facade, for the most part, and he’s a team player now because he finally found somewhere he belongs. He finally found a family whose care for him doesn’t depend on how many goals he scored on his own.
Thanks to the advice of Keeley, who claimed she was just giving him this advice to help him with his branding and general public image, Jamie has even started working up the nerve to grow closer with Dani Rojas. He managed to silence the small voice in the back of his mind that sounded surprisingly similar to his father’s scratchy voice and told him that he shouldn’t be helping someone who he needed to be better than. He begins spending more time on the pitch with just Dani after practice ends.
Practicing with Dani reminds Jamie of why he fell in love with the game in the first place. Dani’s cheerful whoops whenever the ball he kicks slams into the goalpost brings Jamie back to his early days of playing football when all he needed to think about was the grass beneath his feet and the ball in front of him.
When Ted asks why he and Dani are staying out on the pitch until the sunset starts painting the sky, Jamie replies that he simply wants to make sure that both their games are sharp for the upcoming matches. Ted doesn’t seem to buy it, but he nods and accepts Jamie’s claim.
Jamie truly thinks he’s becoming a better person, maybe someone who would even be good enough for the eternally joyful Dani Rojas.
Then, Zava joins Richmond.
The thing is Jamie doesn’t know if he hates Zava because he knows for sure that he’s no longer the best on his team anymore or if he hates Zava because of the way Dani looks at him like he’s a perfect god. Jamie wants to be an asshole and shake Dani’s shoulders to get him out of whatever spiritual trance Zava has him under and tell him that gods are the most fucked up beings of all because they know how powerful they are and they don’t have anything to be afraid of.
Jamie should know. He thought he was one once too.
Instead of sitting with his team members in their Zava-fueled haze, he sits alone in the corner and watches as Dani hand Zava a friendship bracelet that he made. Zava accepts it with a smile but doesn’t put it on.
Roy Kent, bless his dusty old soul, joins Jamie in his corner of self-pity and offers to train him in a gruff voice that makes it sound more like a command than an offer. It becomes more of a threat when Roy starts making him wake up before sunrise to train.
One morning, he forces Jamie to practice at the club before the pitch is officially prepared for practice, which he definitely isn’t supposed to do but he’s also Roy fucking Kent so nobody would dare to tell him he couldn’t do it. By the time they’re done with practice, it’s 7 am, and Jamie sits in the locker room alone.
He considers going home before practice; however, it’s honestly depressing how lonely his big house feels when he’s the only person in it. But he also doesn’t love sitting in the locker room, glaring at the Zava corner and sitting in the uncomfortable silence of the usually lively building.
Then, Dani Rojas walks in.
“Jamie Tartt! Good morning. What are you doing here?” Although it’s unbearably early, Dani still has his signature grin on his face. As pissed as he is about Dani's attachment to Zava, Jamie can't deny that his teammate's joy is infectious and just what he needed to make this morning better.
“I was training here earlier with Roy. Didn’t really feel like leaving. You?”
“I came here for my morning run around the pitch. Would you like to join?” Dani looks at Jamie with hope in his eyes, and even though Jamie is already sore from his brutal training with Roy, he nods and stands up.
During the run, Jamie realizes that this is the first time he’s spent time with Dani alone since Zava joined Richmond. He wants to bring this up, but he thinks that it might kill him to admit that he misses someone out loud. So, he runs next to Dani without talking and hopes that his teammate can’t hear his heartbeat.
Jamie slows down and stops around lap three or four, mainly to catch his breath but also because he doesn't think he can keep his thoughts in anymore. Noticing immediately, Dani pauses and frowns with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… doesn’t this whole Zava thing feel a little off?” He fights to keep his voice neutral, but he’s certain that Dani can sense the insecurity dripping between the syllables.
“What do you mean? Zava’s incredible. He’s a legend,” Dani replies, tilting his head in confusion.
“As a player, sure, but I don’t know, I have a bad feeling about all this.”
Dani pats Jamie on the shoulder and reassures him, “Cheer up, Jamie Tartt. It’s a good thing that we have a win streak, yes? Let’s enjoy it while we can.”
Though Dani begins jogging, thinking that the conversation is over, Jamie can’t help but add another remark: “I know I sound sour right now, but I’m just trying to be a team player. How can I be a team player when there’s no team, just Zava?”
“But we help him score,” Dani retorts as he jogs in place, waiting for Jamie to join him again.
“That’s what I’m trying to say. You should get the chance to score too. Plus, he doesn’t even attend practices.” And he doesn’t care about you — the team — the way I do.
“He doesn’t need to practice. He’s Zava. Come on, amigo, let’s get another few laps in before practice.” With that, Dani picks up his jogging pace.
Jamie catches up, finally falling silent. He decides that he’ll just stay quiet and pray for it to be over, even if it’s a selfish thing to do. He'd wait however long it takes for this team to feel like a team again, for this team to feel like a family again.