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Nickel and Tennis Ball sat together under a broad, shady tree, the sun casting scattered patches of light through the leaves above. The air was still, almost heavy, like it was holding its breath after the recent eliminations. Nickel and Fries had both just been voted out of BFDIA, their dreams of winning dashed for now. There were murmurs about some kind of viewer vote for the next host… Nickel wasn’t sure how true it was, but the thought kept him lingering on the sidelines, half-hoping he could be the host next, that would be really cool.
Fries had been withdrawn since elimination, which wasn’t unlike him, he was always withdrawn from everyone. While some of the other WTFers bickered about hosting duties, he wanted no part of it. He’d distanced himself from everyone, as perusal.
Tennis Ball, on the other hand, seemed lost. Golf Ball had completely iced him out after his recent stunt—he killed everyone who stayed in the WTF, and recovered them into his basket to try and win the challenge, and still came up just a second short. It had been a reckless move, one that went directly against Golf Ball and her rules of the game. She’d been furious—disappointed in a way that cut deep. For someone like Tennis Ball, who’d built his identity around following Golf Ball’s lead, that kind of disapproval wasn’t easy to stomach. Even Nickel had noticed how strange it was. Tennis Ball, defying Golf Ball? That wasn’t like him.
Maybe he was finally realizing he didn’t have to be her shadow. Maybe he was thinking for himself for once. Or maybe he just cracked under the pressure.
Now, Tennis Ball had no one else to sit with, and despite telling Nickel, repeatedly and bluntly, that he didn’t like him and didn’t want him around, Nickel hadn’t left. He never really did. In fact, Nickel was annoyingly persistent, always finding his way back to Tennis Ball’s side like some sad, clingy magnet. And maybe, just maybe, Tennis Ball didn’t push him away as hard as he could’ve, because sometimes… Nickel was useful. Like now, when everyone else was too angry or disinterested to talk to him.
Nickel didn’t care, or maybe pretended not to. He was too busy nursing the flickering hope that Tennis Ball did like him—deep down, somewhere. Bomby had been warning him for weeks that Tennis Ball was only using him, that he was wasting his time trying to win over someone who so clearly didn’t care. But Nickel didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. Why would Tennis Ball still let him hang around if he truly hated him? It didn’t make sense. There had to be something there… Even if it was just a shred of affection, even if Tennis Ball basically admitted to hating him, there had to be something.
So Nickel had a plan—a test. He needed to know the truth. If Tennis Ball was just using him, then fine—he could move on, try his luck elsewhere. But if there was something there… then maybe he could finally crack that cold, calculated shell.
That’s where Fries came in.
Nickel figured if he talked about having a crush on Fries—or even just acted like he was interested, it might draw out some kind of reaction from Tennis Ball. Jealousy, maybe. Or protectiveness. Something that showed he cared.
Tennis Ball sat with his eyes closed, leaning back against the tree trunk. He looked exhausted, mentally and emotionally drained after the argument he just had with Golf Ball. Nickel watched him for a moment, then sighed—loudly, hoping to get a reaction. Nothing. He sighed again, more dramatically this time.
Then he spoke.
“Y’know… Fries is kinda cute.”
Tennis Ball’s eyes cracked open, and he shifted against the tree. “What?” he said slowly, his brows furrowed. “Fries? Why would Fries like you ?”
Nickel smirked, taking that as a sign of interest. “I dunno. I mean, he was the only one who actually looked upset when I got eliminated. Now that he’s out too… maybe I’ve got a chance.”
“What? You really shouldn’t do that, Nickel.” Tennis Ball stood up beside him, his voice laced with a sudden unease. He wasn’t sure why this bothered him so much—Nickel liking Fries shouldn’t matter. In fact, maybe it would be better if he did get obsessed with Fries for a while. Maybe then he’d stop hovering around him all the time. But the more he thought about it, the more it irritated him.
Was it jealousy? No. Couldn’t be. It wasn’t about that. It was about losing the one person who still stuck by him. Nickel was annoyingly loyal—clingy even, but in a way, that loyalty had become something Tennis Ball relied on. He could always count on Nickel to be there, no matter how cold or dismissive he was. And if Nickel suddenly shifted that devotion to Fries… What then? Would he just leave?
The idea stung more than he expected it to.
Tennis Ball knew it was selfish. He only wanted Nickel around when it was convenient. When he didn’t need him, he could brush him off—but when he did? It was nice having someone so eager to please, so ready to back him up no matter what. He didn’t even feel guilty about it. Why should he? Golf Ball did the same thing. She only kept people close when they were useful, and once they weren’t, she discarded them. The only exception so far was Tennis Ball himself.
Maybe because he was different. Maybe because he understood her brilliance, her vision. They were a team. A pair. What they had was strategic, efficient… real. Nickel? Nickel was just a temporary distraction. That’s what Golf Ball had said. “Just a phase.”
“Why not?” Nickel asked, blinking up at him with wide eyes and a tilted head, like a confused puppy. He wasn’t buying the deflection.
“Well…” Tennis Ball hesitated, scrambling for something that sounded like concern but not too concerned. “Fries isn’t really… the relationship type. I mean, I heard he had a crush on Evil Leafy. Do you really want to get involved with someone that unstable?”
Nickel raised an eyebrow. “It’s still my choice, isn’t it?” His tone had a sharp edge now, bitter and challenging. But underneath it, he was watching carefully—waiting for a reaction, testing the waters.
“Well, yes,” Tennis Ball admitted. “But I’m just saying… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He told himself it was practical advice. That he just wanted to protect Nickel from making a dumb mistake. It wasn’t about jealousy. It wasn’t about feelings. He just needed Nickel to stick around a little longer. Just until he could pull things back together. Just until the game was over. Just until he won.
That’s all this was. Right?
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
Nickel narrowed his eyes. “That’s his business. Besides, I think I have a chance.”
Tennis Ball looked at him, unsure of what to say. His chest tightened in a way he didn’t fully understand. Was this… jealousy? Or just panic that he was losing control of someone he’d kept comfortably orbiting around him?
“Well, I’m gonna try and find him.” Nickel hummed happily.
He turned and started walking in the direction he’d seen Fries go earlier, leaving Tennis Ball standing there, confused, irritated—and maybe just a little bit afraid of what he was starting to feel.
“Uh… well, I don’t really have anything else going on, so I guess I’ll come along,” Tennis Ball said, trying to sound casual. But something about the words didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t supposed to be the clingy one in this dynamic. That wasn’t how things worked. He wasn’t tagging along because he cared, he told himself. No, he was just… curious. Curious to see how Nickel would crash and burn. That was all.
Still, he felt unsettled. There was a part of him—one he refused to acknowledge… that was wondering, what if Nickel actually pulled it off? What if Fries said yes? The thought made something twist in his chest, but he shoved it down and walked beside Nickel in silence.
Eventually, they found Fries, he'd finally managed to escape the other WTFers. Most of them were still pestering him to be host, but he’d had enough. As he spotted Tennis Ball and Nickel approaching, he let out a groan.
“What do you two want?” Fries asked flatly. He’d heard the rumours. Everyone had. There was definitely something weird going on between Nickel and Tennis Ball, and he didn’t want to be dragged into whatever drama that was.
“Hey, Fries! What’s up!” Nickel greeted with forced cheer, his voice a bit too chipper and his smile unnaturally wide.
Fries raised an unimpressed brow. “Hey.” He rolled his eyes. “Not much. Might reopen shop or something. Doesn’t seem like there’s anything else going on now.”
He looked around, uneasy. This wasn’t normal. Nickel talking to him? With Tennis Ball looming awkwardly behind him? Something was definitely up.
“Can I help you?” Fries asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Heh, I just wanted to say… I’m really sorry you got voted out,” Nickel started, trying to sound sincere. “You were seriously one of the best players left. I honestly thought you had it in the bag.”
Fries blinked slowly. “Right… okay.”
“And when I got eliminated, you were one of the only people who seemed to actually care,” Nickel added, tone softening. “That meant a lot to me.”
Fries looked at him, unimpressed. “I mean, I was more upset that Needle wasn’t out. That’s all. Don’t read into it.”
Nickel took a confident step forward, undeterred. “Oh come on. You were devastated. You can’t fake that kind of passion. There had to be something there.”
Fries squinted. “Uhhh whatever…”
Tennis Ball shifted awkwardly to the side, trying to look like he wasn’t listening. This was going south fast… or at least, that’s what he thought.
Nickel leaned in slightly, eyes half-lidded. “I just wanted to know if you were free later,” he said with a playful smirk and a wink.
Fries blinked. “What?” The question threw him. He wasn’t used to this. No one ever wanted to go on a date with him. Not seriously. Except… maybe Evil Leafy once? But was that even a date? He couldn’t tell.
“I dunno… we could grab a bite, hang out… kiss~” Nickel sing-songed flirtatiously, batting his eyelashes.
Tennis Ball’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. What was he doing?! Nickel was laying it on thick—too thick—and for some reason, TB was only now realizing how bold Nickel could be. Or maybe… how desperate.
Fries blinked slowly. “Uh… okay. Sure.”
“Whaaaat?!” Tennis Ball barked, voice cracking as he stepped forward in disbelief. His jaw dropped. “ Seriously ?”
Fries shrugged. “I’ve got nothing better to do. Could be fun. Pass the time or whatever.”
Nickel’s grin grew impossibly wide. He looked like he had just won a prize. His eyes sparkled with excitement—but it wasn’t just about Fries saying yes. He was watching Tennis Ball. Every twitch, every awkward shuffle, every bitter frown. He was testing him.
Tennis Ball’s expression turned sour. “Why would anyone want to go on a date with Nickel ?” he snapped without thinking, the words sharp and loud enough to cut through the air.
A silence fell. Even Fries raised a brow at that one.
Nickel’s smile faltered for a split second, but he quickly shook it off, choosing to ignore the jab. He had gotten what he wanted—proof that TB did care, even if he didn’t understand it himself. Nickel was going to keep pushing and see how far he could go. How much it would take before TB snapped completely.
Fries, meanwhile, looked between the two of them, vaguely confused. “Wait… are you two, like… a thing or something?”
“No,” Tennis Ball said too quickly.
Nickel looked back at Tennis Ball for a moment then back at Fries, not saying anything to that question.
“Huh.” Fries narrowed his eyes. “Weird vibe. Whatever.”
“So… now?” Fries asked, turning back to Nickel like the last few seconds hadn’t just been drenched in tension. He crossed his arms. “You wanna go now?”
Nickel practically bounced on the spot. “Yeah! If you’re free!”
Fries shrugged again. “Cool. Let’s go.”
And just like that, they started walking off, leaving Tennis Ball behind, standing under the weight of everything he’d just felt. He didn’t know what this meant. But he knew he didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Tennis Ball didn’t know why his legs kept moving—but they did. He wasn’t even trying to justify it anymore. He just needed to follow them. To see what would happen. He didn’t stop to think about what that meant, or why the idea of Nickel and Fries together made his chest tighten. It just didn’t make sense. That’s all. There was no way this “date” could be real.
He trailed them from a distance, ducking behind trees and hedges like some sort of low-stakes spy, watching them as they strolled casually through the clearing. He couldn’t hear what they were saying. They weren’t even doing anything particularly date-like—just walking and talking. But it was the way they walked and talked, too comfortably, like maybe this was… working?
Tennis Ball knew trailing them wasn’t going to solve anything. He needed reinforcements—someone else who could step in and put an end to this mess. But the real question was… why was he trying so hard in the first place? Supposedly, he didn’t care about Nickel like that. Right?
None of it made sense. He kept shoving his thoughts and feelings into a mental box, sealing the lid shut. There was no way he was jealous. No way he actually cared. It wasn’t like that. It couldn’t be.
He just didn’t get why Nickel would want to be in a relationship with Fries, of all people. That was the problem. Not jealousy. No way.
Yeah. It was just the confusion that was bothering him. That had to be it.
Still, if he wanted this weird “date” to crash and burn, he needed help. Someone with a louder voice. Someone who’d be willing to step in and make a scene. But who would even want*to get involved in something this messy?
-
Meanwhile, Fries glanced at Nickel sideways as they walked.
“Let me guess,” Fries said flatly, “this whole thing is about making Tennis Ball jealous?”
Nickel’s eyes widened slightly. “Huh—what?! No… of course not!”
Fries gave him a look.
Nickel sighed, slumping. “Okay, maybe a little… I just… wanted to see if he’d react. Golf Ball told me he doesn’t actually care about me, and Bomby keeps saying I’m just being used—like, I’m just a convenient tool for TB whenever he needs me. I don’t know what to believe.”
Fries shrugged. “Look, I’m not really the advice type. But… Bomby is your best friend. He probably knows what he’s talking about.”
Nickel frowned. “But I felt something… TB was acting weird about it. He didn’t want me to ask you out, but he wouldn’t just say why. If he didn’t care, why did it seem like he did?”
Fries stopped walking and turned to him, unimpressed. “If you already got your answer, then why are you still here with me?”
Nickel hesitated, glancing down. “Well… I dunno. You said it yourself—it could be fun.” He smirked playfully. “And besides… you’re kinda cute when you’re annoyed.”
Fries rolled his eyes and sat down under a nearby tree. “Whatever.”
Nickel sat beside him, closer this time. “Sooo… do you wanna kiss?” he asked, sliding a little nearer with a sly grin.
Fries raised an eyebrow, amused. “Sure.”
He leaned in, placing a hand on the side of Nickel’s head. He started to close the gap—
“Nickel!! What are you doing?!!”
A high-pitched, familiar screech echoed through the trees like a sudden alarm.
Nickel flinched and fell flat on his face, scrambling upright with wide eyes. “Bomby?!”
Standing a few feet away was Bomby, arms crossed, his face set in a deeply disappointed frown.
Behind him… was Tennis Ball.
Nickel’s mouth dropped open. “How did you even—?!”
Bomby didn’t give him the chance. “Nickel, seriously ?! Are you really doing all this just to make Tennis Ball jealous? Can't you let this go?”
Fries immediately stood, brushing off his knees with a loud sigh. “Okay, nope. I am not getting dragged into this drama circus.” He threw his hands in the air and started walking away. “You people are way too emotionally complicated. I'm out.”
Nickel watched helplessly as Fries walked off into the distance. “Aww, man…” He frowned..
Bomby stepped closer, gentler now. “Nickel… why do you keep doing this to yourself? You’re just getting caught in another hopeless, messy situation where you end up giving everything and get nothing in return. Again.”
Nickel didn’t answer.
Bomby reached out, resting a hand on his head. “I’m worried about you. You act like you’re fine, but you keep throwing yourself at people who don’t know how to care about you the way you deserve.”
Nickel swallowed hard, eyes stinging just a little. He hated how right Bomby probably was. But he didn’t want to believe it. Not yet.
Behind them, Tennis Ball said nothing. He looked guilty, frustrated, and confused—all at once. He had no idea what to say, because deep down, maybe he didn’t even know how he felt.
"Did Tennis Ball tell you I was on this date?" Nickel asked, turning his gaze toward the pair behind him. Tennis Ball was doing a terrible job of pretending not to care, awkwardly looking off into the distance like he hadn’t just been caught.
Bomby stepped in quickly, almost too quickly, trying to block Nickel’s line of sight. “Uhh… that’s not important.”
He knew exactly what would happen if he said yes—Nickel would immediately latch onto the idea that Tennis Ball cared. That he was jealous. That maybe, just maybe, he had feelings for Nickel too. Bomby could already see the delusional sparkle forming in his eyes.
He wasn’t sure why Tennis Ball had told him in the first place. Maybe he panicked. Maybe he really was jealous. Or maybe—and this was Bomby’s growing suspicion, Tennis Ball was just selfish. He didn’t want Nickel, not romantically, not really. He just wanted to keep Nickel close, to use him when it suited him, and then shove him aside when he didn’t need him anymore. A tool. Not a friend. Not a partner. Just… convenient.
Nickel didn’t see it. Bomby knew Nickel didn’t see it.
Or worse… maybe Bomby was the one being selfish. Was this about protecting Nickel from heartbreak—or was he just heartbroken himself? Watching someone he loved fall headfirst for someone who couldn’t give back even half of that affection. Someone who didn’t deserve it.
“Bomby…?” Nickel’s voice pulled him back from his spiraling thoughts. “Did Tennis Ball tell you or not?”
Bomby inhaled sharply, then sighed, defeated. “Yes, but—”
It didn’t matter. That one word was all Nickel needed.
He lit up like a firecracker and zipped right past Bomby, who groaned inwardly, already knowing what was about to happen.
"So you do care about me! Ha-HA! I knew it!" Nickel shouted with giddy triumph as he stood proudly in front of Tennis Ball, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.
Tennis Ball stiffened, startled by the confrontation but trying to maintain control. “No! It’s not about that!” he snapped. “I just… I knew you were making a dumb decision. That’s all.”
But even he didn’t sound convinced by his own words. The anger in his voice wasn’t frustration. It was panic. And that slight look of relief in his posture when he saw Nickel again… it gave him away.
Bomby stood a few paces behind, watching the way Nickel practically beamed in Tennis Ball’s presence. So happy. So convinced. So… in love. Bomby clenched his fists and looked down.
Fine. Let him be happy. Even if it was temporary. Even if it ended in heartbreak. Bomby would be there when it all fell apart—again and again if he had to—until Nickel finally saw Tennis Ball for what he really was. If he ever did.
Nickel turned back, still buzzing. “Are you jealous I kissed Fries~?” he teased in a singsong tone, leaning in toward Tennis Ball with a wicked glint in his eye.
“You didn’t kiss Fries,” Tennis Ball grumbled, glowering.
“Oh yeah,” Nickel blinked, then smirked. “But imagine if I did? Bet you’d be soooo jealous~” He leaned in close enough that their faces almost touched, his voice low and playful, barely above a whisper. “You’d be mad that it wasn’t you, huh?”
Tennis Ball didn’t answer. He didn’t move either. He just stared at Nickel.
And Bomby? He was already walking away.
Not out of spite—just heartbreak. He couldn’t watch it unfold any longer. He told himself he was being dramatic, but it didn’t help. The sting in his chest wouldn’t go away.
It wasn’t even that Bomby thought Tennis Ball was a bad person. He actually liked him, Tennis Ball was smart, dependable, sometimes even funny in his awkward way. But the problem was… Bomby knew that Tennis Ball didn’t feel the same way about Nickel. He just knew. And watching Nickel fall harder and harder for someone who couldn’t or wouldn’t love him back—it was unbearable. Especially when Bomby had been right there the whole time, always right there, loving Nickel quietly from the sidelines.
Tennis Ball hadn’t even considered that. It hadn’t crossed his mind that Bomby could be hurting. All he knew was that Bomby was Nickel’s best friend—always looking out for him, always stepping in when something was off. In fact, Tennis Ball had half-expected Bomby to yank Nickel away from him by now. But… he didn’t. Maybe Bomby didn’t see him as a threat? Or maybe he had given up trying.
Tennis Ball’s eyes flicked back to Nickel, who was fluttering his lashes in that annoyingly charming way, giving Tennis Ball his full attention like none of this chaos had just happened.
Tennis Ball still refused to say it. Jealousy was a ridiculous word. He wasn’t jealous. He was just… being logical. Fries and Nickel made no sense together, that’s all. “Fries probably doesn’t even know how to kiss,” he muttered under his breath.
As if he was some expert. The only person he’d ever kissed was Nickel, and even that had been a strange, flustered accident—or at least, that’s what Tennis Ball kept telling himself.
Nickel grinned, leaning closer with a playful glint in his eye. “Oh? You think you can do better~?”
Tennis Ball scoffed and abruptly sat down at the base of the tree where Fries and Nickel had been moments earlier. “I didn’t say that,” he mumbled, looking away.
Nickel dropped down beside him, their sides almost touching. “You didn’t have to,” he said softly, still smirking, though his voice had quieted just a little.
Tennis Ball didn’t respond. He just stared out at the clearing ahead, his thoughts loud and cluttered. He didn’t want to think about what this meant, or what he was feeling. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand the idea of Nickel kissing anyone else. Not again.
“I don’t like you, Nickel,” Tennis Ball said bluntly, refusing to meet his eyes.
Even as he spoke, that uncomfortable twist in his stomach returned. He didn’t understand it—didn’t want to, but it was there, gnawing at him.
“I know!” Nickel replied, far too cheerful for someone who’d just been rejected. He turned and stood to face Tennis Ball directly, so their faces were level. Slowly, he leaned in, close enough for Tennis Ball to feel his breath against his cheek. “You can still have feelings for people you don’t like,” he whispered with a little smile.
Tennis Ball’s breath hitched. His cheeks warmed with a soft pink flush.
That was the problem with Nickel.
He knew Tennis Ball was lonely. He knew he still wanted Golf Ball—desperately, hopelessly. It wasn’t a secret. But Nickel had always been the only one who ever flirted with him, the only one who gave him that kind of attention. And he knew that too.
A part of Tennis Ball believed Nickel understood how fragile this all was—that it wasn’t love, not on both sides. That this relationship couldn’t possibly last. But Nickel didn’t care. Because he knew how easy it was to get inside Tennis Ball’s head. All he had to do was fill that empty space, and Tennis Ball let him in.
Maybe they were both using each other—two lonely people trying to plug the same void. That didn’t mean they were compatible. It didn’t mean it was right. Sure, maybe Nickel was genuinely in love with him… but he had to know Tennis Ball wasn’t, and probably never would be. And yet, every time, Tennis Ball caved to the flirting, let himself be pulled in again.
“If you know this isn’t going anywhere,” Tennis Ball asked quietly, finally meeting his gaze, “why do you keep trying?”
Nickel’s expression softened. He wasn’t teasing now. He looked… honest.
“Because even if you don’t like me, I know you like the attention,” he said. “Maybe, over time, you’ll start to like me too. And I mean… we’re both single, so why not ?”
Tennis Ball swallowed hard. His breath was shaky as he closed his eyes.
He was going to regret this. He already had—more than once. But Nickel wasn’t stupid. He knew Tennis Ball was leading him on, and he was still choosing to be here. That made it feel… less cruel. Right?
Nickel was strange. Hard to read, hard to understand.
Tennis Ball sighed as the space between them closed, their lips pressing together. It was soft. Familiar. Wrong. And yet it felt so nice. He hated himself for giving in again, for letting this happen after everything he’d said. He hated how easy it was. How comforting. And, worst of all, sometimes when they kissed… he imagined it was Golf Ball. That Nickel was her.
Nickel had once joked they had the same shape, same limbs—like it was nothing. But Tennis Ball had remembered. And now it haunted him. Was that twisted? Was he a bad person for thinking that? For using Nickel like this?
But then again… Nickel knew. He knew what this was. He was walking into it with eyes wide open. So maybe the real question wasn’t whether Tennis Ball was bad… but whether that made it any better.
Nickel was so desperate for this moment that he climbed right onto Tennis Ball’s lap, straddling him as their lips met again. Tennis Ball shifted slightly beneath him, trying to stay balanced while Nickel moved his lips slowly, deliberately, savouring every second. Tennis Ball’s brows furrowed in concentration—he was clearly trying to stay composed, to not get swept up in it, but Nickel could feel it. He was getting to him.
Nickel couldn’t help but feel a small spark of victory. His plan had worked. Going on that fake date with Fries had made Tennis Ball jealous. No, he hadn’t gotten him to love him yet… not the way he wanted, but maybe that would come with time. For now, this was enough. This kiss, this closeness… It was all Nickel needed.
He was so deeply obsessed with Tennis Ball that he didn’t care if the feelings weren’t mutual—he’d take whatever scraps of affection he could get. As long as he had this, as long as he could keep kissing him like this, Nickel could pretend it was love.
There was something undeniably twisted about their relationship, but neither of them seemed to mind. They were content to keep going, to stay tangled in this, as long as it filled the emptiness inside them, as long as it gave them what they desired, why not?