Chapter Text
The headline on the bottom of the screen flashed in red. Breaking: Protestors Organize Outside of ERC Headquarters. Edgar Allan University Mourns Deaths of Exy Players .
Zara Mitchells, the station’s broadcaster, spoke to her field correspondent with grave, precise diction. “Now, Greg, with the tragedies surrounding Edgar Allan’s exy players this summer, fans have started to speculate about the cause. One theory has recently gained traction, and it’s why we’re seeing these protests right now: that Palmetto State’s Neil Josten and Kevin Day, as well as former Raven Jean Moreau, actually pushed Edgar Allen into the depressive condition that we’re seeing.”
Greg Picheco nodded. Behind him, protestors chanted incoherently. “That’s right, Zara. If you look at Neil Josten’s short time in the collegiate scene, he’s already sparked a lot of controversy with the press. Fans accuse him of harassing the Ravens as early as his first television appearance on the Kathy Ferdinand Show, where he insulted Riko Moriyama without provocation. Shortly after, we saw his teammate, Kevin Day, participate in unflattering comments about his time as a Raven. And even though Jean Moreau has declined participating in any interviews so far, he left the Ravens right before last year’s championships; some might say that he abandoned them in their hour of need.
“So now people are asking: how much is too much? How much can we allow our athletic heroes to speak without accountability? Should these three players be allowed to participate in exy without an official investigation?”
Zara waited a few moments to make sure that Greg had finished talking. “But it seems as if these protests have been getting progressively more violent. Just last week we saw Palmetto State University get vandalized. Jean’s new college, the University of Southern California, has reported multiple security breaches. Shouldn’t we also ask ourselves when fan involvement becomes too much?”
The screen went black. Kevin looked up at Wymack, who was pointing a remote at the blank television, irritation rolling off of him in waves. They were in the coach’s office, finalizing plans for practice schedules and new playing strategies. They’d done this every year since Kevin had joined the Foxes, but it was the first time that it felt so awkward. Before, Wymack hadn’t known that he was working with his son.
The news had been on as background noise, until Kevin had heard his name and they turned up the volume. Even having shut it off, his stomach churned. It wasn’t as if he was unaware of the backlash, or even unused to it. Last year had been littered with attacks from fans and Moriyamas alike. But these protests had a strange energy to them, one that made his hairs stand on end. It was rare for the public to be mad at him. That honor usually went to Neil.
Wymack cut a look to Kevin. “Kevin,” he said, “It wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s not what I’m thinking,” Kevin said, managing to wave his hand dismissively. Every cell in his body buzzed with the itch to drown this moment in alcohol. He dug a fist into his thigh. He’d promised to broaden his coping skills; if anything it would keep him playing exy for longer. And Kevin liked being able to remember his days without a hangover.
He glanced out the window. It was starting to cool down, a sunset casting purple and orange across the scattered clouds. Beneath them was the exy court. Kevin used to look at that giant orange fox paw and want to scream. He’d been so disappointed, so afraid of what his future held. He’d worried about Jean and what Kevin’s actions had meant for him. He’d hated how subpar the Foxes were, how terrible he was with his right hand. He’d been hopeless, and the only people that had kept him going were his father and Andrew, who proved that talent could be unjustly bestowed upon the uncaring. Uncaring, that was, until a certain redhead had joined the team. It turned out that Andrew’s taste in men was more psychotic than he could ever pretend to be.
Kevin stood up. “I need to get ready for night practice,” he said. Wymack frowned but didn’t protest.
Neil was the only person in their dorm when he got back. He looked up at Kevin’s entrance and stood up from his desk, ready to abandon whatever he was working on.
Kevin asked, “Where’s Andrew?”
“Sparring with Renee,” said Neil. He leaned against his chair and looked Kevin over. “You saw the news.”
“They can’t open up an investigation. The main branch wouldn’t allow it to go so far,” Kevin said. The Moriyamas would arrange for the elimination of all the ERC’s board members before they were discovered.
“They can’t stop disorganized violence.”
“Then you’ll just have to watch your mouth.” Kevin didn’t care that he snapped; Neil was used to it. “Be at the court in ten minutes.”
He found Andrew and Renee in the Fox Tower’s empty gym, just in time to see Renee duck a fist and punch Andrew in the stomach. Andrew grunted but didn’t otherwise indicate that it had hurt. Kevin’s entrance distracted Renee, and Andrew took the opportunity to knock her onto her back. She landed with a thud that had Kevin wincing.
“Kevin,” Andrew said, effectively ending the session. He glanced at Renee as she got up without help.
Sweat dripped down Renee’s temples and landed on her collarbone. It was rare to see her like this; dressed in only a sports bra and leggings. Her everyday attire was considerably more conservative. The top half of her rainbow-tipped hair was pulled into a pony-tail, exposing an already-forming bruise above her eyebrow. She was all muscles and cheer, smiling in spite of her pain.
“Hello,” she said.
Kevin nodded his acknowledgment. “It’s time for night practice,” he told Andrew, who treated him with an indifferent stare that Kevin knew not to take personally.
Renee glanced at the clock hanging above the room’s entrance. “We went later than usual,” she said.
“It’s okay,” said Kevin. “Do you need help getting back to your room?”
“No, but thank you.”
Kevin frowned. “Don’t get so hurt that you can’t practice. Even if you’re in a goal, you still need to be able to run and hold a racquet.”
Renee’s smile became patient, an expression that he recognized on the rare occasions where he critiqued her. Kevin didn’t care about tact when it came to the Foxes, but he tried to somewhat regulate himself with Renee. She was good at what she did. While Andrew operated on instinct and the raw talent of a prodigy, Renee alternated between strategies and diligent practice. She was as technical as she was cooperative, and their team was better because of it. Everyone wanted to work with Renee. If Kevin could somehow mix the two goalkeepers together and then pour them into separate molds, he would. He supposed that their friendship would have to do as a substitute. Besides, Andrew had become far less uncooperative since Neil had entered the picture.
Renee turned to Andrew and said, “Have a good night, Andrew.” She brushed past Kevin with only a friendly nod, taking the warmth in the room with her. Sometimes, it was easy to forget the effect Renee had on the spaces she occupied; a byproduct of her bottomless peace.
But even if her absence left the room feeling colder, they had more pressing issues at hand. “Ten minutes,” Kevin told Andrew, although he knew that Andrew would take however long he wanted to. He hesitated. “Have you seen the news about the protests? It's going to affect things once we start going to games.”
Andrew grabbed his knives off of a nearby weights table. Kevin hadn't noticed he'd taken them out of their sheathes, although he was glad that Renee hadn't been sparring with an armed man. “Our deal is not broken,” Andrew said simply, and Kevin left to go to the court, dismissed and relieved.
When Kevin had realized that Neil’s infatuation with Andrew was reciprocated (albeit belatedly; it had taken a hand around his throat to fully understand), he had worried about how the two’s relationship would affect their playing. Now, he couldn’t imagine going back. Kevin and Andrew worked together with the familiarity that came from spending two years attached at the hip. Neil was the only one who could rival that unspoken communication with Andrew. It made practices more interesting, more challenging.
Kevin scored five times on Andrew before he decided to switch from his left hand to his right. His ambidexterity was hard earned, and although he would never use it during games if he could help it, he wasn’t taking anything for granted. To his left, Neil kept shooting without pause. Andrew favored blocking Neil before going hard against Kevin’s shots. Neil knew when to back off to let the two focus, and he settled for jogging back and forth between the field marks. Kevin made shot after shot, and only scored three times. He was going to need to spend more time on this hand.
Although the adrenaline hadn’t left his body yet, Kevin knew when his arms were in danger of getting blown out. After another hour on his right hand, he finally called an end to practice. Neil and Andrew lingered outside of the locker room when the three reached the door, and Neil waved Kevin ahead. His fingers were loosely gripping Andrew’s gear.
“Go without us,” he said to Kevin. His blue eyes were bright even in the darkness. Kevin barely made it inside before he heard a body being shoved against a wall and rapid German.
Kevin pinched the bridge of his nose. He swore that exy was more of a turn on for Neil than it was for Kevin, and Kevin and Thea had once fucked on the court. Not that it would happen again; he and Thea had tried to rekindle their relationship for about two months after championships before they realized that the spark was gone.
Kevin didn’t wait for Neil and Andrew before going to their shared dorm. The two had grown accustomed to taking longer showers at night. At least they were somewhat mindful when they were in their room; Kevin had never walked in on the two. Andrew was blunt when he wanted Kevin to stay away.
When they did walk in, looking clean and a little too pleased with themselves, Neil sat down at his desk to resume homework. Kevin almost missed the look in Andrew’s eyes when he glanced at the back of his partner’s auburn head. It was as intimate as it was quick.
Kevin credited himself with seeing Andrew beyond his manic exterior before anybody else, with perhaps the exceptions of his father and Renee. He had seen the emptiness, the way that he wrapped himself around Aaron and Nicky to become their shield… never mind that his family didn’t return the fervor of his loyalty. Kevin and Andrew had both known that once they were done with college, Andrew would be left alone. Kevin understood the fear of loneliness all too well.
But Kevin had never seen Andrew so transparent as he was with Neil. Somehow, a 5'3”maniac, who had arrived chock-full of secrets and animosity, managed to unlock tenderness in a man who denied feeling like it was poison. It was in glimpses and private German bickering, but it was there. The guiding light of Andrew’s life couldn’t be attributed to deals anymore. His refusal to break his promise with Kevin was Andrew’s way of reassuring him that he wouldn't be abandoned.
Kevin went to bed before Andrew could notice that he’d been caught.
____
Renee was trying a new cookie recipe. Stephanie had sent it over the day before, along with a few samples. Renee had shared with Dan and Allison, who immediately declared that they needed more. She wasn’t much of a baker, but an easy shortbread recipe was difficult to mess up. Renee double checked her measurements before putting the used cups into the sink and washing them. She liked to clean while she cooked; it drove her friends crazy. Allison bounced over. Her blonde hair was held back by a large green headband with Shrek ears attached. Her makeup was halfway done, concealer still unblended underneath her eyes.
“Can I try?” she asked, holding out a finger. Renee pushed the bowl of unblended ingredients towards Allison, who just sighed and went back to the couch.
Dan sat at their table, going over papers with a concerned brow. “Renee, are you sure that we want to sponsor the youth home this year? They’ve got a lot of events that they like their contributors to attend.”
Renee got out a whisk before reconsidering. She replaced it with a wooden spoon and started stirring. “Do any of them clash with game days?”
“No, but some of them are cutting it close to championships.”
Renee hummed and tapped her fingers against the bowl. “Let’s send them an email and ask if they’d be willing to compromise. I’m sure that they don’t want to turn down money, not with how much we’d be offering.”
Dan nodded and went over to the desktop they all shared. Allison had offered to buy everyone laptops, but neither Dan nor Renee were comfortable with it. Renee turned back to her cookies. Allison’s phone dinged.
“Hookup,” Allison explained, barely giving the text she’d received a glance. “He wasn’t the best; I’m trying to let him down easy.”
“You could just tell him that you don’t want to see him anymore,” Renee suggested.
Allison sighed lazily, “Not my style.” Renee laughed.
“You know,” Allison said, dabbing at her makeup with a sponge and peering into a mirror on the coffee table, “Now that Neil and Andrew are together, you’re going to have to find a different date to the kickoff banquet.”
“I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”
Renee had a sneaking suspicion that officially, Andrew and Neil wouldn’t have dates. Neither of them wanted the press to get a hold of their relationship; they were private even when it came to the Foxes. Renee had only been able to see something brewing between them in the first place because of her closeness with Andrew. Andrew made allowances for Neil that he’d never granted to her, Kevin, or his family. She’d been a middleman between them too often not to notice. But the Foxes weren’t in a position to see their dynamic. As far as she could tell, Kevin and Wymack were the only other people who had caught on, and that was because Andrew trusted them.
“Who are you going to bring? The banquet is in a few days,” Renee asked Allison. She assumed that this was what Allison had really been meaning to get at in the first place.
“Probably someone from the swim team,” Allison said, unconcerned. She took off her headband and shook out her hair. She gave Renee a sidelong glance. “It’s a shame that Kevin has the personality mix of a poodle and a chihuahua. He'd make a gorgeous date.” From her station at the computer, Dan snorted.
Renee smiled but said, “I don't think we can judge him too harshly, especially with banquets. They bring up a lot of bad memories for Kevin.”
There were countless unique expressions that Renee had seen on Kevin at banquets: his denial at discovering Neil's identity, his terror around Riko, the near-constant desperation to escape rolling off of him in waves. She remembered seeing his face last year as he'd stood in front of Jean: guilt-ridden and afraid. In hindsight, his fear had been for more than just himself.
It was also the first time that she and Jean had met; she’d linked arms with Kevin as a show of support and ended up getting an incredible friend out of it. Seeing Jean was one of the few parts of the upcoming banquet she was looking forward to. He’d been much happier the last time they’d talked.
Dan’s heavy sigh brought her out of her reverie. Renee put her thoughts of Jean and Kevin to the side and went over to her friend. Dan messaged her forehead with her knuckles, a news article on the screen, headlining: Exy’s Biggest Villains: How Three Athletes Managed to Destroy a Beloved Sport. The picture beneath it was a spliced image of Neil, Kevin, and Jean. The stony indifference on Neil and Jean's faces didn't help the dread that was carving a pit into Renee's stomach; they'd been scrubbed of all endearing qualities that Renee knew. At least Kevin's picture had a press-ready smile.
Their team had just endured a year of pure insanity, and not everyone had made it out. The Foxes had faced too much tragedy in too short of a time. They didn't need more. “Neil didn't even say anything this time,” Dan mumbled into her wrists. “I really thought that this would be over once that monster died.”
“The media didn't know the truth about Riko,” Renee pointed out. Behind them, Allison got up to see what the fuss was about. “The season hasn't started yet,” Renee added. “They'll have something better to focus on once it does.”
“I've seen tabloids that accused me of sleeping with PSU’s president in order to get into school,” said Allison. “Nasty rumors are just a part of success.”
“I'm more worried about the violence,” said Dan. She scrolled down to reveal pictures of broken windows at the ERC headquarters, people getting arrested, and posters of Kevin with x 's spray-painted over his eyes.
Renee settled a hand on Dan's shoulder. There would be time to process her own worries later. “There's nothing we can do right now. Come on. The cookie dough should be ready.”
Allison grinned. “Finally.”
Neil’s response to the news was as predictable as it was casual. “I know,” he said. They were walking laps during a break in practice. Renee had brought up Dan’s reaction to the article, which had soured into a snippier mood during drills. Neil glanced at Andrew, then at her. “I can’t worry about it until something happens, and that day might never come,” he said.
“Nothing can be worse than last year,” added Renee.
“I’ll tell Dan that I’ll stay off press duty. That should make her happy,” said Neil. Renee laughed.
Andrew was silent, listening to their conversation with a disinterested expression, although he raised an eyebrow at Neil’s vow to stay off the press. There had been too many disastrous interviews last year for anyone to believe him.
Renee knew that Andrew was as worried as Neil was, with perhaps the added stipulation that he would be keeping a tighter grip on his people. Andrew had told Renee that he and Neil released each other of their promises. But with the exception of some extra breathing room for both of them, it hadn't changed anything. Neil just no longer needed extra incentive to stay, and Andrew didn't need extra incentive to protect Neil. They were going to do those things regardless.
Wymack called an end to the break, and as Renee returned to her position, she saw Neil take a step closer to Andrew. The exchange was brief. Whatever Neil was saying, he didn't take his eyes off of Andrew's. The other boy’s response was short but attentive, and when he walked away, Neil’s eyes followed. For someone who had been hardened by the cruelties of life, he was painfully obvious when it came to his feelings for Andrew.
“He wanted to ask me about the banquet,” Andrew told her when they later crossed paths to switch goals. “Nicky let it slip that there’s a bet about whether or not we’ll go together.”
Renee wasn't sure if he was referring to herself or Neil . “What did you tell him?” she asked.
Andrew shrugged. “Nobody bet on the three of us going alone. And I like disappointing Aaron when I can.” Renee nodded. It was the outcome she'd been expecting.
For the duration of practice, Kevin was on a warpath. He yelled at anyone and everyone the second they stumbled, banging his racquet on the court to get people's attention. The two first years on the team watched him, entranced and terrified all at once. Renee would need to find time to tell them that Kevin's harshness was all bark and no bite, and sometimes even padded with good intentions.
When he shot the ball at her goal and made it, Renee gathered her disappointment and shouted an apology to the backline along with some tips. Kevin shouldn't have been able to get as close as he did.
Kevin looked at her for a moment before he pointed his racquet at the backliners: an agreement and a reprimand all in one. “Focus less on your footwork. It’s affecting your aim,” he told her. Renee smiled in response and threw back the ball. He caught it in his racquet without looking. She blocked the next three shots, earning the closest resemblance to an approving stare from Kevin that any of them ever got. Renee took it as a win. Kevin was not prone to affection.