1. Alistair

~ ALISTAIR ~

Bait.

Wait.

Strike.

As soon as we step foot into the locker room with me leading the line, I turn and yank Gunner by the collar before descending on him and throwing a punch to his stupidly sweaty face.

I can feel hands trying to yank me off his miserable body but I hold still, transgressing my anger on him.

“What the fuck, Tae!” I hear my teammates gasp as they try to pull me off him. But I wasn't having any of it as I leaned my weight on my knee which was pressed deep into Gunner's stomach while he grunted as if he was about to vomit the water he'd drank on the field.

He should vomit the fucking thing.

I throw punch after punch to his disgusting face, cutting off his fruitless attempts to hit me back until he's a gasping bloody mess below me. That's when I finally yielded to the yanks, chest heaving.

“Won't you consider my offer to visit an anger management class?”

My head snaps to Ray who'd spoken, gritting my teeth.

“Bastard.”

Then, I turn and match deeper into the locker room before grabbing my backpack. I turn back to the entrance, the crowd which was pacifying pathetic Gunner parts like the red sea as I make my way to the parking lot.

Imagine having to practice for weeks because of an interschool match and the fucking striker you'd assisted lost his chance to score just because he partied the night before!

Ain't no fucking way I would let that pass. At least, I got my mark on him before the mocking started.

With a grunt, I dip my hand into my backpack as I search for my car key, huffing as I feel sweat trickling down my chest.

My fingers clutch the key before I press the button on it. Then, I step into my black bugatti and speed away, leaving the university's stadium and the proof of my… our failure behind.

I can't go back home like this. Those pesky busybodies would poke their nose in my business. I swirl the steering towards the direction of the school's main building. I drive my car across the practice field before parking abruptly.

Then, I shut the engine and step out, ready to walk towards the practice’s locker room to take a bath, my eyes on the building which looks smaller from afar.

I step forward before halting on my steps when my ear catches some sound in a dark alley - a shortcut that leads to the school's pool.

Curiosity has got nothing on me.

I continue to walk forward before a particular voice halts me on my step, my brow quirks in confusion.

“You thought you knew everything right? You will say that to my face again.”

Turning back, I peek into the dark alley, its middle illuminated by the sun peeking between the two buildings. And there stood three… no four guys, looming over another guy sitting on the floor, their backs to me.

Who does this nowadays?

One of them steps forward and kicks the guy in the rib. He grunts, gripping his side, his eyes on the floor as the other guys close in on him.

I shake my head, anger coursing through my veins as I drop my backpack outside the alley and step in, deciding to play the role of a Messiah. I know I can't go back home with the anger coursing in my veins. 

Mann, I need to expel it somehow.

“Hey you!”

They turn to me and when their eyes take me in, fear and recognition flash through them.

I grin before walking slowly towards them. The one at the front steps back, jerking his partners out of their shock.

Everyone knows me. 

I thrive on the pain of others.

I didn't let them get away before running towards them with my central midfielder speed. I throw out a fist which hits the guy in the back square in the face, tilting his head sideways as I hear a clear crunching sound.

Umm good.

Kicks, punches, gripping of hair until my fingers catch a few pulled out strands, broken bones, and finally, blood.

Lots of it.

Then, I watch them crawl away from me, feeling at ease as I crack my neck.

I sigh in pleasure. My expelling technique worked. Again.

With a final inhale, I let my eyes take in my surroundings.

My eyes land on the guy they'd ganged up to beat the shit out. He leans against the wall, darkness shrouding his face, his eyes on his feet. His curly hair covers his forehead, his backpack on his shoulder and his hand in his pockets, his jacket covering his wrists.

I walk closer to him before standing some feets away from him, waiting. And waiting.

Say something bitch!

Minutes pass in silence, the sun beating down on my sweaty body. With the minutes passing, my anger only increases while I wait for him to say the two words I want to hear for saving his fucking ass.

Slowly, he raises his head, assessing me with a look of disinterest.

I know him. 

But I didn't know he's mute.

Wait.

“Are you mute?” I ask, irritated.

He smirks before standing straight. Then, he starts to walk, leaving me standing there.

With my nose flaring, I called after him, “Are you not going to thank me for saving your ass?!”

He stops, glancing at me over his shoulder. “I didn't remember asking for your help. You just decided to be a busy body.” He says slowly.

You know what? fuck him!

I've had people kiss the ground I walk on for less. What makes this little nerd think he's too good to bow?

“You didn't ask but your entire countenance said it. You are weak!”

He turns to me fully now, a smug grin on his face. “Are you intellectually challenged or do you just pretend to be?”

My heart beats fast in my chest, the anger I'd managed to expel flowing back into my veins like liquid fire while I try to maintain a calm façade. I take a step closer to him until I'm standing toe to toe with him, baring my teeth in his face.

“Nerds like you should shut up. And there's something called manners, you should try it.” I say, trying to intimidate him.

He chuckles. “I didn't ask for your help.” 

He doesn't step back. Neither do I. My breath fans over his face but the bastard keeps smirking, eyes flicking down to my mouth for a fraction of second before he walks past me, his shoulder bumping mine. That does something to my head I don't like.  

I should walk away too, should let him disappear like a bad taste in my mouth. But somehow, I stand there, replaying the fucking smirk and how to wipe the smirk off Calvin Rutledge's fucking face.