Chapter Text
the rose and the magician
Tryouts were going awfully. No one would pass me the ball thanks to the fit I threw during breakfast. I tried to ignore the sweltering heat the shame of it brought into my body. I wondered how much more of my life my shit father would ruin. Nonsense. I didn’t need these mice, I had still stolen the ball enough times to stand out, but if this continued it would be cutting it close. I was jogging up to the attacking third hoping to intercept the incoming pass, if they were smart they would pass it to the brute to my right, his position was safest. I remember leaping to see if I could chest tap it, but the ball didn’t come that way. Instead, it went into the upper left of the attacking third—was that a mistake?
No.
It was the best position for the ball, but not the safest. Why would someone pass it there?
This thrown together team has lacked such vision since the game began. As expected, no one was there to receive the shot-guaranteed pass, but I hardly cared about the goal anymore. I could see the play they wanted, who was this visionary? Could they feed me such passes?
On that day Alexis Ness, a surprisingly stocky midfielder became my dog.
That’s what I tell myself anyway.
Over the next few weeks it became clear to me that his plays were those of a true visionary, he seemed to approach everything about his life with this ability to see beyond the normal—beyond the immediately visible. And as we played together I began to realize he was truly exceptional, so long as I was there to fuel his passes, Ness was far from useless.
He took an interest in me. Or, maybe I took an interest in him.
He was useless at tryouts until I took him under my wing. Then again so was I until that point. No one else could keep up with such plays, I needed someone like that to fuel me instead. If Alexis Ness could feed me the passes no one else could see I would dominate. It was mutually beneficial, he could survive too if he followed me. Our makeshift team wasn’t the only one within Bastard Munchen's tryouts, there were maybe four or five others. They never said how many players they’d take out of us, for all I know it could've been just one. If that were the case, without Ness I’d have remained average—forgettable.
None of these idiots could keep up with Ness, they’d ignore him during plays and treat him like he was a runt off the field. They would offer him praise for trying as if they pitied him, but I watched how stupid they were. They couldn’t see the talent in front of them. When I met Ness he was discouraged and lacking hope, but he had enough skill to make me valuable, so I made him my own.
It was crucial to passing tryouts that we understand each other's football. So I sought him out to speak strategy, which teammates were valuable to his plays, I asked what he wanted out of me too. I resisted the urge to be alone for the visionary midfielder. I asked him a lot of questions. In return Ness gave me a lot of answers, most of them just asking me to keep up as I was, with a lighthearted agreement to follow the dream I preached to him.
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I might never say this aloud but Alexis Ness, the stocky midfielder, was perhaps one of the most interesting people I had ever met. Given I didn’t know a lot of people I wasn’t sure how large the statement really was, but I found him interesting, more so than the average man. He was rooted in rationality, and structure and routine were in his every action, to the point where he wouldn’t have oranges on Thursdays because the acid isn’t good for whatever evening workout—the truth was I didn’t know. But he said it with such certainty I wondered why such a knowledgeable guy was here trying out for soccer instead of going to a top school. There was no doubt in my mind that Alexis Ness was remarkably intelligent, but he didn’t boast about what he knew; he just let it fuel his routines. Perhaps this is stupid of me, but I didn’t think practical intelligence could translate into being useful in a place like this.
Then there were his plays, if Ness was so rooted in rationality—and he was—then why had he been testing our makeshift team with such advanced plays this whole time? Without a doubt he’d have been more valuable earlier on if he just lowered himself to their level—our level. It wasn’t working for him, rationally he should've lowered his play style, there was no guarantee I could’ve saved him as I did. But Ness didn’t do that. He made it as far as he did stubborn and on the verge of despair and for some reason it worked out because I was there to catch his fall. If you think about it sensibly, the man is so irrational I should call him stupid instead, and sometimes I do, but more than that I think there is something wickedly interesting about Ness that I have yet to discover.
He was lucky I picked him up off the field, I gave him something to believe in.
The two of us advanced and that was when Ness and I truly began.
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I would never tell Alexis but I was grateful to have him by my side.
Stupid, stupid Alexis, who was just a partner and someone I could make laugh after practice, a sight of relief on the field, and someone who would agree to abandon our carefully planned diets for a pastry on Sundays.
On Bastard’s team he was adored, despite just advancing tryouts he was never left on the bench, and if Alexis was on the field so was I.
I liked to think our teammates were right when they called us an inseparable duo, but Alexis insisted on having relationships with all of them. Alexis, the visionary, could make any of the brutes on Bastard laugh with the sun he carried in his eyes, and at first I thought they saw him as some sort of pet, but I soon realized they thought he was endearing. Funny. Cute even. I guess if I was honest he sort of was. Alexis was stocky, you wouldn’t expect it but when he stripped down it was noticeable. Or—if you brushed him in the halls you’d think you ran into a wall instead of sunshine Alexis. Despite this barbarian-like strength he casually wore, he was kind, though never at his own expense. As the months went on and we grew more familiar with our team, Alexis became rather intimidating.
Not really to me, I agreed he was puppyish and that opinion hasn’t changed, but I could agree he became more comfortable with himself at the very least. He stood wide eyed for the wisdom older teammates would offer, and if he noticed a scrimmage being played irrationally Alexis wouldn’t dare keep to himself about it. If you caught him on a really bad day he might even yell at you. But Alexis was cherished on the team, he could bring any play to life no matter the style and our club genuinely enjoyed his company.
On the other hand, I wasn’t so keen on everyone adoring me. But, I took Alexis under my wing, so, begrudgingly I swallowed my disdain for his childish desires.
I could play along for his sake. They didn’t need to love me—I was here to score and dominate, but if Alexis wanted friends, fine. He was my dog anyway, no one could produce the goals I did with him. As long as I had that over him I didn’t care if he insisted we eat alongside Grim and Gesner or even insufferable Sachs during meals.
I hadn’t really expected to find myself happy to join them during meals, or to be the reason half the team room is stifling laughter during a lecture; yet there was something shared about us all enduring the same grueling practices day after day. Besides, I was going to be the best striker in the world. My talent alone let me stand out on this team, but having players eager to serve me couldn’t hold me down. You couldn’t deny I was a crucial part of the team now. Nearly every play involved Micheal Kaiser. There was a flaw in my strategy though. I lacked a weapon. Something beyond my ability to see plays that would render me dangerous as a foe. I spoke to Ness about this often, I wouldn’t dare share such a thing with the others.
“Your speed is already something people are wary of–why not try and utilize that?” Ness mentioned on a day we stayed out late to work on our partnered attacks. I considered it; the world's fastest striker wasn’t exactly something I was built for, not with people like that idiot Loki roaming this earth anyhow.
“No, Kaiser. Your first touch. The second you take possession I mean, to already be shooting.”
…
Ness was a genius.
My weapon would be my striking itself. From that point on, over the next few months Ness and I would train together in secret focusing specifically on advancing the speed of my shots even further.
There was one night I particularly overworked him, a night before an important match, I think against France. Ness was tired and pushing a cold but I made him feed me a hundred passes that night, that match would show the world what an impact I had. I remember the rush I felt after the hundred fiftieth or so goal—it was going to work! I turned over to look at Ness who was wiping his nose with the back of his gloved hand, he looked awful. Shame crept up my neck, it was his match tomorrow too.
“Ness, I think that’s enough for today.” A catch in my throat before including, “Thank you”
“Ah? You’re sure? It isn't so late I can keep going—” I shook my head, before he could bother finishing.
“Nonsense you look like shit—are you showering? I’ll wash your hair,” I offered as some sort of sheepish apology for overworking him but Ness looked offended,
…
“Is it messy?”
He ran a gentle (and now ungloved) hand through his soft curls and I sucked in a breath.
“Not really—” I was cut off;
“Then I don’t want your sweaty hands in my hair”, he huffed, clearly annoyed, putting his gloves neatly on top of another and shoving them into his bag. I barked a laugh and then covered my mouth.
“I hadn’t realized you were such a germaphobe, Ness, have you always thought my hands are gross?” I taunt him, not bothering to hide the grin on my face as I catch up to him and our small pile of gear scattering the benches. I place one of my said sweaty palms onto his cheek.
Ness responds by turning to face me and coughing directly into my face,
“Did you say something Kaiser—I didn't hear.”
For a moment I’m truly too stunned to speak—should I slap him? Laugh? My eyes are wide when then I hear Ness start chuckling and his radiant eyes close with the movement so naturally that I roll my eyes and settle with: ‘don't do that again’, as I pry my cleats off to which Ness goes,
‘Don’t do what?’
“DONT COUGH ON ME NESS!” I bark angrily—but not truly, and Ness laughs so hard that he puts himself into another coughing fit so I pat his back for him but slip his water into my bag leaving him whining the whole way back to our dorms about how he was sure he brought his and that I need to share mine.
“Shouldnta coughed on me, sorry Ness but I’m a bit of a germaphobe. You might get me sick.”
“Isn’t it too late for that? All my disease is already plastered across your hideous face. What harm could a sip of water do?”
“Shh Ness, I think I hear someone in the halls” I lie in order to get him to shut up and it works because Ness goes quiet listening even though we technically aren’t past curfew even on game night. He turns to look at the other side of the hallway and I slip his water carefully back into his bag before walking off again.
“It was the AC, c’mon there’s no one here!” I call and he follows me up the stairs when,
“Oh!” and I don’t bother turning around knowing he found his water.
I’m a little busy climbing the stairs and smiling about how dumb Ness is when Mensah nearly scares me to death.
“?! kaiser! ness! noa is looking for you two”, Mensah whispers with urgency. I hear Ness squeak with panic behind me and my own shoulders tense too.
“What for?” I say when Mensah hushes me. I groan, it can’t be good if he cared enough to risk getting in trouble to warn us.
In answer Mensah shrugs and tells us not to use the main hall, he says he could sneak us into Gesner’s room since Noa hasn’t gone there but we’d need a good excuse for why we were in there in the first place.
Like an idiot, I nod, already coming up with a handful of lies depending on why Noa wants us. I climb the stairs a lot quieter and wait for Mensah to check the halls when I hear Ness huff with annoyance and mumble a string of curses under his breath meant for none other than me. Mensah comes back a couple minutes later saying he didn’t see Noa anywhere and we should be fine, before he goes back into his own room. I let out the tension from my shoulders and start down the hall as quickly as I can to Gesner’s room. A couple times we stop, sure we’ve heard footsteps and have been caught,
“Kaiser no one is here we’re wasting time, hurry up!”
but no one comes to catch us.
Ness is still hurrying me from behind when I knock on Gesner’s door and to my absolute horror it’s Noa himself who opens it.
“Kaiser. Ness.” He eyes our bags in our hands and I genuinely stop breathing. If Noa takes me out of the game tomorrow for this I will kill everyone on the team and then him.