#to say that *she does not owe Adora her presence* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jimlingss · 6 years

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Chess of Ice

Read the Sequel

Read the Final Instalment

➜ Words: 13.5k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Sports!AU

➜ Summary: Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

➜ Warnings: Swearing.

➜ Notes: I’ve always wanted to write a sports!au, so here we go!

The cheers from the stands keep him going. The roars pierce through his muffled hearing, the audience going wild as he glides past. He can’t feel anything, not his fingers or the tip of his nose. Sweat drips from his skin, dousing his jersey as he pushes his left foot back zigzagging faster and faster without friction. He keeps his knees bent, alternating his strides and slipping right through his opponents. The adrenaline pulsates through his veins and he keeps steady. It feels like he’s floating. Jungkook lives for this. His breath halts. The puck comes into sight, skimming right in front of him like the stars aligning. The corner of his mouth tugs, and he swings back his hand, gripping the stick tightly...and before his opponents can even blink, Jungkook shoots. The crowd goes absolutely berserk, immediately standing from their spots, howling into the arena. And from the movement, shoving his body forward for the shot, Jungkook collides and falls. His teammates are cheering, roaring out as they launch on each other in bear hugs. There are applauses and screams coming from all directions and Jungkook rolls on his back, vision blinded by the sparkling fluorescent lights, and he giggles in pure, unadulterated joy. This is the place where he was born and raised. This is the place where he thrives. Jeon Jungkook lives and breathes to be on the ice. But as one of his teammates drags his lifeless body upwards to embrace the boy who brought them victory, his left ankle thumps...thumps...thumps...and yet, he can’t seem to care. // “Well, you should care.” Doctor Shin rolls forward on her office chair. “You tore a ligament.” His teammates are just outside this room, making a huge ruckus in the hospital hallway. Jungkook is buzzing with excitement, unable to wait for the celebration. Coach already promised to pay for drinks and all the guys already made a vow to get shit-faced— “Ow!” He winces when the doctor presses on a certain spot and she mumbles before putting his swollen ankle down while throwing in an apology and moving to take a look at the x-ray again. It’s the size of a baseball now, looking like a nasty boil hanging off of his leg, still being iced to prevent it from getting as large as a football. “How long is it going to take to heal, doc?” Coach Kang plops down in the chair next to the upright hospital bed. “We gotta start training for the next championships soon. At this rate, we might make it to the Olympics any day now. There’s no time to waste.” “Already?” Jungkook chides, pretending to roll his eyes. “Shouldn’t we at least take a break?” His coach laughs heartily. “There are no breaks for winners.” But the doctor is not amused. She rolls her chair until she faces him again. “You sprained it yesterday, didn’t you, Jungkook?” “Uhhhh…….” “It’s been hurting for a while, hasn’t it?” She hits bullseye with a simple question and his coach turns to him in surprise. Jungkook grits his teeth, not wanting to admit that he had actually sprained his ankle yesterday on a last practice run and purposely didn’t say anything. He endured the pain to play the game. He couldn’t afford to be taken off last minute for a stupid injury. Everyone counted on him. “It’s a miracle you made it so long. The adrenaline rush must’ve done wonders if you weren’t screaming every step you took.” “How long is it going to take to heal?” Jungkook repeats in a quieter volume, looking up past his still damp bangs. Suddenly, his palms feel sweaty and he’s more nervous than he was a few hours ago. “Well, you tore a ligament. You completely tore it. It’s ruptured,” Doctor Shin sighs. It’s much more serious than he thought it was. “It’s severe. And my guess….it’ll take around twelve weeks to heal.” “Twelve weeks?!” Jungkook sits up straighter, nearly launching off the bed and when his ankle shifts, he holds back a shout, flinching hard instead. “I can’t go that long!” His coach puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “You’ll be up before you know it, Kook.” “You’ll need rehabilitation,” the doctor continues, “but by the looks of it, you have a more than high probability of being able to walk again.” “Wait….what?” He blinks, wholly confused. “Walk?” The doctor looks at him, an emotion of sympathy he does not want. Every word that is carefully spoken, hesitant, “Jungkook. You won’t be able to—” White noise. All he hears is white noise. And just like that, the career that never even began is broken in shambles. // The door slides open, room deathly silent. His teammates came to visit for the past two weeks, trying to cheer up the somber mood with their boisterous laughter but like anyone else who had a life outside the white walls, they slowly but surely stopped coming. Now only his parents and older brother dropped by every other day; a sign of their presence by the flowers on the stand withering in the vase. The sunlight pouring in from the glass window is blinding and Jungkook keeps staring at it even when it burns his eye sockets. It’s better than glancing down to see his ankle still wrapped up like a Christmas gift. He feels sick every time he even steals a glimpse of it. His coach stands at the end of the bed, watching the star player who fell from his place. He can feel the waves of disappointment come off of the older man and he holds himself back from crying, the underneath of his eyes already reddened and swollen from sobbing so much. “Jungkook.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “I know, sport.” He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and there’s an extended moment of peaceful silence. The dust particles drift in the air in sunlight beams, the clock handles moving without a tick-tock-tick-tock rhythm. “You’re good, Jungkook.” For a man who used to scream from the stands, command every player with strict rules, he sounds too soft and gentle. Jungkook doesn’t like it. “You’re really good at everything you do. You have exceptional abilities in whatever you try. You’re a fast learner. I’ve been your coach for the past seven years, so trust me when I say that.” He continues and Jungkook turns his head away, trying to ignore the older. But the two of them know he’s still listening, hanging on to every word and syllable like it’s his life jacket. “This isn't the end. There are a lot more things you can do.” “Then tell me…..” His voice is broken. “What should I do?” He is desperately pleading. Jungkook is lost. “Don’t let the public forget your name.” His coach’s eyes are blazing, but instead of the thirst to win, it’s full of hope of a limitless future. “Don’t lose your sponsors. You’re still the star. Everyone loves you. They still go wild when someone says your name.” “And how am I supposed to not let them forget me?” The older man softly smiles. “There are a lot more sports out there, Jungkook.”

Music plays in the background, not booming but loud enough to fill the small arena. The cold air wafts in the atmosphere, icy breeze deepening his cheeks to rosy hue. The ice rink has a smooth surface, yet to be marred by blades lacing patterns made by skates. But here, the glossy layer might never be embroidered with designs.

It’s unfamiliar to him. There are lines drawn on the ice, marking every lane and at the end, there are targets. He stays seated, quietly observing and observing…. “Harder! Harder!” A girl with a black bob haircut is shrieking at another person. “Harder, you motherfucker! Is that all you can do?! Harder!” Yeah… Jungkook will never get used to this. “Hurry hard,” she continues. “Yup. Woah! Woah! WOAH!” The stone finally stops sliding on the ice. It stops right outside the last ring of the target and the person at the end of the rink goes pale. The girl throws up her arms, groaning and yelling, “are you fucking deaf?! Did you not hear what I said?! You screwed it up, you stupid fuck!” “Yoonji!” The female coach spins around in absolute horror. “Language! What did we talk about?” The short girl with all too much sass scoffs openly. “I’m sorry I play with idiots!” “Don’t make me bench you,” the coach is unyielding, stubborn as well and she speaks her threat in a menacing, lower tone. The girl with the bob-cut narrows her eyes. “You wouldn’t…” The coach crosses her arms. “Apologize!” This is stupid as fuck. Jungkook doesn’t know what he’s doing here, wasting away his time, his talents and gifts. All the members are so hardcore over such a dumb sport, screaming and yelling at each other. A sport that requires no brain cell use. A sport meant for janitors. It’s boring. It’s absurd. “Alright team, gather up! We have a few new recruits that are joining our team this season.” The male coach claps his hands together and the others put away their equipment, slowly making their way over. Jungkook is at the ledge, starting a second too long at the ice that’s a few inches away. But he’s soon distracted by the handful of girls in the back who are murmuring and giggling to each other, taking one too many glances at him. “Everyone give a warm welcome to the new rookies of our Curling Team!” There’s a warm applause and he continues, “I am Coach Kim Namjoon, but you can just call me Namjoon and my vice here is…” “I’m Adora.” The female coach smiles, brown ponytail swinging when she turns to each new recruit. “I run the women’s curling team while Namjoon runs the men’s. But we often work together so there’s no real distinction.” One by one, the new individuals introduce themselves. Alongside Jungkook is a mom whose kids have gone off to college, an older gentleman who’s soon to retire and another woman who’s in her mid-thirties, a professional who’s looking for another hobby. Jungkook notices he’s one of the younger individuals on the team. As he scans the group, someone catches his eye— “And this is Jeon Jungkook.” A hand slaps his back suddenly and he flinches, startled. “I know what you’re thinking and yes, we finally poached the best hockey player for our team!” He awkwardly smiles. “Hello.” Namjoon has a dimple pressing into each side of his cheek, and he nods, fluffy blonde strands bobbing up and down with the movement. “He’s been playing for a few months now and has quite a knack for it. Everyone give him a warm welcome.” There are more applauses and as the introduction is complete, females and males alike begin to bombard the poor boy. “Are you really the Jeon Jungkook?!” The crowd gathers, soft smiles and eager eyes, unable to believe that he’s gracing them with his mere presence. His introverted nature makes him take a step back and he laughs in a tense manner. “You were the captain of the hockey team, right?! You were number ninety-seven, right?!” His neck knocks downwards in a single nod. “Y-yeah…” “Oh my god.” Their eyes are sparkling in admiration and he’s taken back, a bit overwhelmed with their energy. “Can I get your autograph?” — “Can you sign my hockey jersey?” — “Ooh, me too!” — “Can I please take a selfie with me?” — “Is it alright if I take a picture of you? — “You should add me on instagram!” He’s swamped by his own fans, trying his best to fulfill each of their wishes and show his own appreciation for their kindness. But by the time the coaches peel people off of him and tell them to get lost, he’s finally able to catch his breath. The two coaches give the four new recruits a few run downs, reviewing the basics to make sure everyone’s on the same playing field and know what’s going on. It’s not hard to grasp and with time, understanding only deepens. Compared to hockey, Jungkook almost finds the change in difficulty insulting to his intelligence. Yet, before he leaves the arena for the day, he decides to check out the locker room. After all, this is what he’ll be doing for the next little while. He might as well become acquainted with the place. But before he can even make it to the men’s locker room, his arm is pulled and in the blink of an eye, he’s being roughly shoved against the wall…. By the same girl who was screaming earlier. “Uhhh…” “I know who you are, Jeon Jungkook.” The girl grips his white tee tight in her fists, permanently wrinkling the fabric. Her black bob and bangs brushes against his skin from how close she’s standing and he visibly gulps. She hisses at him, “And I know what you think.” His rounded doe eyes stare back like a deer in headlights. “Who are you?” She ignores him. The girl is much shorter than he is, probably around four feet eleven inches but she’s fearsome. Her pointed glare is beyond intimidating and his knees quake, feeling an instinct to bow down. Jungkook wets himself a little. “You think this game is fucking dumb. You think this is some kind of joke, sitting on your high horse and looking down on us. I know your type. You’re just an arrogant, cocky asshole. I know when I see it. But if you sabotage any of us….I swear to god, I will rip your head straight off your neck. You better watch—” “Yoonji.” The girl is interrupted by a soft, sweet voice. It’s a vivid contrast to the venom that was just being spat on him and his ears perk at the melodic timbre. Both necks whip over to another head that’s peering from the corner of the entryway. You blink twice, never once sparing a single glance towards Jungkook. “Are we going to eat?” “Yeah, just give me a second.” Yoonji looks back at Jungkook, grip firming up after loosening. “I’m almost done here—” “But I’m hungry. Can we go now?” “Fine.” She releases Jungkook, shooting a last glare at him that makes his spine turn to jelly in the worst ways. He’s still stunned but when he turns to look at his saviour, you’re gone.

The next following weeks come and go without as many difficulties. Jungkook adjusts well, getting lessons from the coach and watching the games on the sidelines when he’s not brushing up on his own mediocre skills. He learns more of the details of the sport, studying special techniques that he didn’t catch when he was trying to learn on his own with videos online and borrowed library books. His teammates simmer down too, less excited to see him but still pleasant and warm. Everyone’s friendly and welcoming, except for Yoonji who still shoots him a suspicious look once in a while. But aside from that, Jungkook and the three other new recruits become a part of the team quite easily, integrating with the others like there are no differences between years of age or experience. Jungkook has almost learnt everyone’s names at this point. He’s exchanged conversations with most, except for you...who seems timid and quiet, and always brushing past him when he approaches. “Yoonji. Y/N. Taehyung,” Adora calls out at the end of the practice session, pacing back and forth while she reads the names off of her clipboard. “And Jungkook. Could the four of you come here for a quick moment?” Slowly, the four of you gather along with Namjoon. Yoonji puts away her brush, Taehyung stopping from his practice of throwing stones down the center of the target, also known as the button. You bid goodbye to one of your teammates and Jungkook comes off from the bench. He’s still unfamiliar with his curling shoes, one of the soles called the slider and the other, gripper. It’s the only way no one’s falling over on the slippery ice. It’s different from skating, that’s one thing for sure. But at this point, Jungkook’s just happy to be on the ice, even by unconventional means. “First off, I want to congratulate the four of you.” Adora smiles at each of you, towards Yoonji’s raised brow, Taehyung’s bewilderment and both you and Jungkook’s blank expressions. “Namjoon and I have discussed this for a few weeks now and the four of you have been chosen because of your stellar performances.” “What is it for?” Yoonji cuts to the chase, deciding not to comment that Taehyung throws like he has two left hands, how she’s been swearing up a storm and not exactly demonstrating good sportsmanship, and how Jungkook is literally the worst player she’s ever seen. “You’ll be representing us in an upcoming competition,” Namjoon announces officially. “The four of you will be our first co-ed team!” “What?!” There’s an uproar between Yoonji and Taehyung while you remain silent and Jungkook wholly confused. “I thought mixed doubles was only two people?” — “Since when did we ever do co-ed?” — “But I’ve been training with the women’s team?!” — “Why us?!” “Shut it, shut it.” Adora waves her left hand and her right is preoccupied with pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to not get a headache from the two loud kids in front of her. “Listen, we got four new recruits. Two females and two males. That makes our team twelve people total and since one team is four people….that leaves four people extra, so Namjoon and I decided we would just form a new team. Now we can compete in both men’s, women’s, and mixed.” As she speaks, she seems to agree with the idea more and more, even nodding along. Namjoon stands straight with his hands behind his back, proud of coming up with such an ingenious suggestion. But the rest of you aren’t as amused. “I can’t believe this.” Yoonji scoffs, turning to you as if waiting for you to agree how ridiculous this all is. “I thought those newbies would just be subs or something. But they’re actually here to steal our spot?” “No one’s stealing anything,” Taehyung chides, throwing an arm around the short girl until she literally hurls his appendage off of herself, nearly tugging the arm out of its socket. “Chill!” “No,” she spits. “Fuck you.” “Yoonji.” Adora warns her, appearing unimpressed with her attitude and hostility. “Okay, fine, I get it. I’m pulled off the women’s team that I’ve been playing with for the past, I don’t know, three years. For what? Mixed. That’s cool. It’s different. It’s a nice change.” The girl in the blue jacket with the team’s logo hitches her thumb towards Jungkook. “But why him? That’s one thing I don’t fucking get.” “Uhhh….” Jungkook blinks, not knowing how to defend himself and not even sure if he wants to. Taehyung grins, his signature boxy smile spreading into his cheeks. He’s wearing sweatpants and an oversized long-sleeve shirt, oddly not affected by the frigid air. On the outside, he could pass as a farmer from the countryside. “Why not Jungkook?” The brunette boy is a friendly acquaintance of Jungkook, who’s a bit too friendly. Taehyung’s been rather touchy towards him more so than the others, constantly grabbing him for a hug or throwing an arm around his shoulders. If someone looked at them, they’d think Taehyung and Jungkook were best friends that shared the same cradle together. “Because he literally started less than a month ago.” She crosses her arms. “I think there are other people who are far more deserving of the position than him. People with more experience. People who have been with us longer. Like....Minsik.” She glances at the elder who’s slumped on the bench and slowly drinking from his water bottle, probably taking his afternoon pills as well. “We’re trying to win, right? Well, he’s been curling for like...thirty years...I think he would better suit the team.” “No.” Namjoon clears his throat. “We’ve decided on you four.” Yoonji narrows her eyes, still unconvinced, and she takes a good look at your team. After considering for one minute, she realizes there’s one main similarity between all of you — you’re on the younger side. “Is it because Minsik is old? What...you think he’s going to die before he can get onto the curling sheet?” “Well, let’s be honest.” Taehyung banters with her, “He’ll probably shatter a hip if he goes too hard.” Adora sighs, headache getting worse by the second. “We picked you four for a number of reasons. Aside from assessing your different skills and weaknesses and trying to balance that, aside from looking at your...bold personalities...aside from all this...yes, we did consider your age. Good observation, Yoonji.” She glares at the older woman, not liking her sarcasm and then Namjoon decides to step in, clarifying the situation to avoid misunderstandings. “We intend this team to go long term. If this team does well, then we want you guys to represent us in mixed doubles or co-ed games for the next few years. Adora and I want you to become good enough with enough experience that you can become mentors for future mixed double teams. So yes...it would be helpful if you don’t die or go senile on us.” “Oh my god. Why don’t you just plan the next ten years of my life without telling me?!” “It’s technically already planned,” Taehyung quips mischievously. “You’ll have twenty cats by the end of 2038 and by 2060, if we’re not all dead by global warming, you’ll probably build an army of cats and teach them how to curl—” “Shut the fuck up, you annoying piece of shit.” Yoonji rolls her eyes. “You’re not even funny or clever—” “Enough!” Adora limit in hearing the children bicker back and forth is reached. She takes a look at Yoonji, Taehyung, Jungkook before settling on you. “You four will work together. The competition is in four months. No but’s.” The coach stomps off before stopping meters away. She swiftly turns on her toes, comes sprinting back and then grabbing Namjoon and dragging him with her. When both coaches are out of earshot distance, Taehyung makes some snarky comment that you don’t pay much attention to, but Yoonji stomps her foot directly on his. The sassy girl shoots yet another glare towards an unsuspecting Jungkook and then she takes your hand. “Let’s go.” She walks off with you and calms down with every step she takes and increasing the distance with the stupid boys. You haven’t said much of a word and she sighs, knowing how you didn’t put up a single fight. “Are you really okay with this?” You shrug, taking a glance back to the two males who seem lost in the tiny space. “It’ll be fun, I guess.” // To say it was tense is an understatement. The atmosphere was not only awkward but full of hostility, mostly coming from the short girl who could not stop glaring at him. It baffles him. Jungkook’s not sure how this team is supposed to function when Yoonji didn’t want to cooperate, when you stayed completely silent like a mime, and Taehyung had his head literally in the clouds. Even standing next to each other was suffocating, he can’t imagine what playing a game would feel like. “We should assign roles,” Yoonji begins, trying to get a move on and keep things somewhat professional. As much as she hated this, the prospect of winning was much more important. “Taehyung, you’ll be second.” “Why should I?” He decides to purposely give her a hard time, a twinkle of playfulness glimmering in his deep brown irises. “You’re a strong sweeper,” she says without wasting a second breath. Taehyung wiggles his brows up and down. “So you’ve been watching me? For how long?” Yoonji ignores him and Jungkook decides to take a step forward. After all, if he’s going to be a part of this team, then he wants to make sure his voice is heard. “Who’s going to be skip?” He assumes it’s Yoonji since she’s already taken on the role of leader, designating roles to everyone and her personality is rather dominating. But against Jungkook’s expectations, she answers differently and without a note of doubt in her voice. “Obviously, Y/N.” You? The quiet one of all people is in charge of strategizing. You — as the team captain? “It’s fine if I’m not,” you mutter softly but Yoonji doesn’t even debate it. “The problem is, I don’t know what the fuck you should do. You have the least experience out of all of us,” Yoonji addresses Jungkook and groans. “What can you even do?” “Um...I can throw...and sweep...I think I’m better at throwing.” “Yeah, I’ll be the judge of that.” Adora approaches with a clipboard in hand. Today, she’s wearing the team’s official blue zip up track jacket. Her hair’s still in a ponytail, as if permanently gathered to be at the crown of her head but at least her dark circles look better. “What’s going on?” “We’re designating roles,” Taehyung chirps cheerfully. “I’m second.” “Who’s even supposed to be our coach?” Yoonji asks and raises a brow. “Or are we our own democracy?” “More like a dictatorship…” The tall brunette mumbles, hands digging into his grey sweatpants pockets, and she glares at him. Adora looks at her clipboard and hums. “Namjoon and I are both coaches for this team. Believe it or not, we have enough time and attention to manage two teams at the same time.” She inhales a breath and looks up. “With that being said, I will be designating roles now. Jungkook will take the role of third.” All at once, there’s a reaction. Taehyung’s thick eyebrows shoot upwards comically. Yoonji is already scoffing and even you tilt your head ever so slightly. Third, also called vice or mate, it requires him to throw draw shots and to...strategize with the skip. It’s an important role. “What the f—” “If you didn’t know, in mixed, one male must sweep with one female. Two males can’t be sweeping or throwing, vice versa.” “Okay.” Yoonji nods. “Then Taehyung should be lead and I’ll be third—” “No.” The coach won’t have any of it. She’s already made up her mind. “Taehyung’s good at sweeping. You’re good at throwing and sweeping.” “Oh. My. God.” The bob-cut girl has her head knocked back, whining like a petulant child and rather than being intimidated or wanting to piss his pants, Jungkook’s slightly amused and annoyed. “This is going to be a disaster.” “Yoonji. If you keep complaining, I’m going to make you do running drills. Don’t test me.” “.....” Finally, there’s silence. // After one or two more arguments and details being sorted, the four of them are dismissed for the day before extensive training will begin. “You know what?” The shorter girl speaks up as the four of you are walking towards the locker rooms. “I finally get it.” Taehyung smiles. “What?” “The only reason, he’s on the team—” Yoonji narrows her eyes on Jungkook. “—is because he brings in publicity. It’s a media stunt.” “That's a good conspiracy theory. Tell me when you figure out the rest of your theory. Maybe the government's involved.” Taehyung laughs and she ignores him, stopping to directly address the boy she’s prosecuting. “There are a lot more people who better qualify for your position, so you better not fuck shit up.” “Oooh,” Taehyung makes an obnoxious sound, making the atmosphere less hostile. You blink, unfazed, before dragging Yoonji away without saying a single word. The two boys enter the locker room, the other males already finished changing and they’ve left since their practice session ended sooner. Taehyung opens up his tiny locker, changing back into casual clothes despite his athletic wear already looking like regular attire, or pajamas. It’s amusing and even if Taehyung is a bit overbearing, Jungkook’s taken quite a liking to him. “Don’t let her bother you,” Tae speaks up, stripping his pants in one sweep brazenly and instead of changing into his regular pants, he rips off his shirt, nearly fully nude but thankfully with his underwear still intact. “Yoonji’s always like that but she’s warming up to you...kind of.” Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound from the back of his throat. While Yoonji’s frightening, he’s starting to become immune to her antics. When someone threatens you every other day, at some point it becomes white noise. He’s not really bothered that much anymore, deciding to roll it off his shoulder. But there is something that’s bothering Jungkook. Or rather than bothered, he’s curious. “Hey, Taehyung, can I ask you a question?” “Of course, Kookie.” His eyes light up with enthusiasm and he turns to Jungkook, giving him his full attention while the other doesn’t mind the bizarre nickname. “I’m just curious but...why is Y/N the skip?” He doesn’t mean to offend anyone or question your skills but— “She doesn’t seem like the type to strategize...or yell...or be the leader.” “Right?” Taehyung quirks his head to the side, agreeing with Jungkook. “But believe it or not, Y/N takes it more seriously than Yoonji. And that’s saying something.” He shivers and Jungkook’s not sure if it’s because his skin is exposed to the cold air. “If you think Yoonji is scary, you should meet her older brother, Yoongi. I almost pissed myself.” Jungkook quickly exchanges his shirt before Taehyung can comment how ripped he is and how he’s got a hot-bod and the brunette seems distracted anyways. “But yeah, Y/N is the most intense person on the team. Not only that, but she’s one of the people who’s been playing for the longest. I think she’s been playing since elementary or something. So she has a lot of experience.” “Oh.” Jungkook finds himself stopping and listening. “Also, she’s three time winner of the WJCC. World Junior Curling Championships. And she’s part of the Kilsyth Curling Club which is pretty crazy. And oh yeah, she was skip of the women’s team too.” Jungkook turns away. It’s odd. His curiosity still isn’t satisfied. // “Hey, Y/N?” Jungkook struggles to keep up, practically jogging at this point. You walk at an incredible speed and he’s already out of breath. Your bag is held by your side while his is slung over his shoulder, the extra weight making your strides even more amazing. Jungkook runs a hand through his long black strands, keeping them from pricking his eyes, and you slow down for a second when you notice him. “Hi.” “Ummm….you’re not with Yoonji?” You keep your eyes trained forward, never once looking at him directly. “Family stuff. Went home first.” “Oh.” He walks alongside you, matching your steps. “I was thinking of going home too, but you...uh...wanna grab a bite to eat?” Your voice is quiet, timid, and he barely catches what you’re saying. “I already have food at home.” “...oh...okay.” He tries his best not to let the rejection deter him, but it’s difficult when he’s already a stuttering mess. “I..uh...just never really talked to you before and since we’re on the same team…” This is absolutely excruciating. You don’t respond to him and only awkward silence lingers. Jungkook’s already out of his comfort zone by approaching you and being the first to strike a conversation. If he ever survives this, he’s going to crawl back into the cave he came from and never come out again. “I thought we could get to know each other better.” You answer — “sure.” Maybe you were an introvert like him. Maybe you were even more shy than he was, to the point where it’s painfully timid. Maybe it’s not his fault. But somehow, Jungkook doubts this. If you managed to befriend Yoonji, then there’s no way you’re an easy pushover. And Taehyung said you were the most intense one on the team. But even if you were shy, at the very least, you should look at him. “I heard you’re a three time championship of the junior competition. That’s really impressive.” He swallows hard when you say nothing. “And you’re part of the K...Kil…” “Kilsyth Curling Club,” you finally say something more than one word and Jungkook is way too excited, eyes lighting up and taking a step closer. It’s an improvement. “Yeah. Isn’t that one of the oldest clubs around?” You hum, not uttering another word. Jungkook is defeated. Taehyung is overly friendly to him, Yoonji is hostile, but you...you are just apathetic. And it’s all too unsettling to him. There’s nothing he can do to drive this conversation forward when it was dead in the first place. The tension was killing him inside. “Do you hate me?” God. Jungkook groans, wondering why such a childish question spilled from his mouth. He feels an urge to slam his forehead into his hand, hard enough that it’ll hopefully break his face and he’ll be put out of his misery once and for all. “No.” “Then….” He releases a heavy sigh, unable to understand the reason for your brutal cold shoulder. “Do you want to know why?” You finally look at him and all Jungkook manages is a grimace. Everyone’s asked him why. Why he joined the curling team. Why he dropped hockey. What exactly happened. His high school acquaintances that he hadn’t spoken to in years had even contacted him to ask. Relatives. Journalists. Opposing members. Strangers. Their own curiosity causing them to pry into his life. Taehyung’s asked, even the coaches have. Yet, each and every time, he’s simply brushed them off. Jungkook provided some excuse, that he wanted to try something new, that he was getting bored of the same game…..and he said them over and over again even if it was all lies. “Do you want to know why I quit hockey?” “No.” You break away from his gaze. “I don’t really care.” Jungkook frowns, wholly confused at your nonchalance. “Then—” “I know you don’t care about curling,” you tell him bluntly and without the bite that Yoonji often brings to her words. The way you speak is calm and composed, mellow even. You have a blank expression, casual like you’re commenting on the nice weather. It’s as if you don’t give a damn about his existence. You don’t care if he’s a famous hockey player or a team member with less than a month of experience. You don’t care if he’s just another boy off the street trying to chat. You are fearsomely indifferent to him. And while Jungkook is blinking, reeling from your interesting apathy, you continue, “But I hope you gain enough respect for the sport so you won’t drag us down.” His lips part, not sure what he would even say when he’s stunned speechless. But you beat him to the punch, taking a look across the street and glancing at him quickly. “I have to catch the bus. See you tomorrow.” He should be put-off by your personality, right? Any normal boy would find your aloofness boring and they’d back off. You haven’t spoken much to him, you’ve expressed disinterest in him completely — you don’t give a fuck if he were to join the circus tomorrow. He doesn’t even think you’re putting on a coy act or playing ‘hard to get’, if that’s even a thing anymore. And he’s never been into that type in the first place. It’s not that you’re unobtainable and that makes Jungkook interested. Simply, you just seem more preoccupied with the colour of the sky, if there’s gum on the ground, when the bus will turn the corner and come down the street. And somehow...that makes you so attractive. “Oh…yeah...see you tomorrow.” You’ve run off before he’s even finished bidding you goodbye.

There are a lot of intense sports out there. Sports that require lifetimes of training to perfect. He’s seen it all, been in it. He’s witnessed severe diets, portions of food smaller than the size of his palm. Jungkook’s personally been on strict weight control monitoring. He’s witnessed people work out for ten hours a day. He’s exercised as much as a bodybuilder. He’s seen people on the rink for nineteen hours a day. People who live and breathe the sport, not knowing anything else in life, so entirely absorbed that everything else fades into the background. After all, Jungkook himself doesn’t know anything else other than the ice. And yet, curling proves to be something he doesn’t know. It’s both intense and not. While he isn’t being monitored for his weight or what junk he puts into his mouth, while his every move isn’t being watched by his coaches, the practice isn’t trivial or easy. For one, it requires a lot more strategy than he’s used to. “You know the types of shots, right?” You don’t talk to Jungkook much, except when it’s about curling. He almost gets whiplash to how different you are, from being completely silent to commanding the members on the sheet. “Guard, draws, and takeout.” “Good. So this is the fifth end. What you want to do is a draw shot. So, try to reach the house.” Jungkook looks off to where you’re pointing, imagining a direct line to where the stone needs to go. “But shouldn’t I try to hit that rock right there? I think I can bump it to the house.” “No.” You shake your head. “You might bump that other rock and accidentally do a takeout. It’s too risky. Plus, you have to set up my shots too.” “Alright.” Jungkook gets into position, squatting down and limbs moving a bit stiffly, still trying to get used to it all. He puts his sliding foot in front of the hack foot, not having a lot of pressure on his left ankle. He keeps his hips and shoulders square and steady, inhaling a breath before throwing the stone. His arm gives it an extra push and he releases it cleanly. The stone curls on the sheet, bending slightly towards the target, known as the house. You lower yourself, right beside him. Immediately, Jungkook’s breathing halts. It occurs to him how close you are. Your hair nearly skims the skin of his cheek and your scent tickles his nose in a pleasant way. He swallows hard before turning his head slightly to meet your eyes— “YUP! Right up!” You scream at the two individuals holding the brooms, startling Jungkook from your ear-bleeding volume and the entire arena turns to stare. “Hurry hard! Hard! Hard! HARD!” The stone begins to curl less and less and it goes for longer as Yoonij and Taehyung continue working hard, using their muscle power into the handle of the curling brush. “Sweep, motherfucker!” Yoonji shouts to the person across from her. “I am sweeping!” Taehyung shrieks in exasperation. “Sweep harder!” “It hurts my arms!” “I don’t care, harder!” The girl grunts. “That all you got, Kim?” “Fuck.” He’s breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down and sweat dripping off his skin from the constant movement. “WOAH!” You shout and they stop sweeping at once, slowly watching as the stone slows and makes it close to the button. Once it’s stopped completely, they turn and you nod before looking over to Jungkook. “Not bad. You might want to give it more of a push when you release it, but aside from that, not shabby for the first one. You still have the sixth end and then it’s my turn.” “Okay.” Throughout the rest of the game, Jungkook is given more advice and learns strategies that only someone experienced would know. It’s a bit overwhelming since there’s more to it than he would expect. He’s used to using his body more than his brain, but he doesn’t mind the change at all. By the end of it, he’s gotten a good grasp and the four of you gather up again. “That was good but still not enough,” Yoonji sighs, turning to look at the final placement of all the stones. “I think we did pretty well for our first practice. We’ll probably win at this rate,” Taehyung voices his own opinion but the short bob-cut girl hits the back of his head which causes him to wince. “We’re not trying to be just good, dumbass. The goal isn’t to win the championships. We have to make it to the Olympics.” There seems to be mutual agreement over the statement. Before Jungkook can turn to you and talk, you’ve all returned to your positions, doing it all over again. // An entire month passes of more practice and extensive training. Adora often conducts the exercises and curling drills, even showing stretches that will help strengthen core muscles. On the other hand, Namjoon watches the actual practice games and gives tips on the strategy as well as everyone’s techniques. Aside from that, the four of you also go against the women’s and men’s teams in friendly rounds to practice. Usually you all win. Jungkook receives a set of blue uniforms — a track jacket, a sweater, a shirt and some pants, all imprinted with the logo — and it makes him officially part of the team. “You know…” Taehyung is fooling around with the broom and he puts it in between his legs. “If I wasn’t curling, I’d probably be part of muggle quidditch.” The guy begins running around on the sheet, pretending to fly and Jungkook grins while watching him. When Taehyung lifts up his gripper shoe and begins to slip around with his slider shoe like a figure skater, he eventually loses traction and collides to the ground. Luckily enough, he doesn’t sustain any injuries but the end of the broom hits on his...goods and he cries out. “Holy shit!” Taehyung grabs his crotch, wailing out as tears accumulate in his eyes. “My future kids!” Jungkook kneels over in laughter, having to look away to calm down. “You better not break that broom or else I’m sure Yoonji would rip your balls off anyhow.” Taehyung rolls all over the ice, still trying to recover. “You’re all so cruel. What’s more important, my pickle or the equipment?” “The equipment,” Jungkook barks out another stream of laughter and Taehyung stops rolling, instead settling on his back and staring at the ceiling and the bright lights. “I need a drink or two.” “You don’t even like alcohol.” “Yeah. It’s bitter.” “You spat out the shot I gave you.” Jungkook crosses his arms, the corners of his lips tugging upwards as he reminds the brunette of the memory. “You spat it all over my lap.” Taehyung gives a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. You looked like you pissed yourself after. I totally ruined your chances with that cute waitress.” “Nah, she wasn’t that into me anyways and you were a terrible wingman.” His hockey teammates have slowly cut contact with him, having no reasons to continue communicating and even when it was painful, Jungkook never expected to make a new best friend here. “Hey, Tae, can I ask you something?” The guy shifts to lay on his side, propping up his elbow and resting his head in his hand, flashing a sexy pose. “Depends. If you’re going to ask for a threesome, me, you and Yoonji, we have to ask if Yoonji’s down and that might take a bit of….convincing.” Jungkook hums. “I can kind of understand why Yoonji always sucker punches you now.” “Wow, rude.” He puts a hand over his chest. “I don’t deserve her harsh punishments, even if it’s kind of hot. It still hurts, y’know.” The younger scoffs and sits down, the chills running through his bones. His hand skims along the smooth ice, welcoming the frigid temperature that seems to cool down the rest of his body. He doesn’t look at his friend, too transfixed over the ice. “It’s about Y/N.” “What about her?” Tae wiggles his brows up and down. “You interested?” “No, it’s not like that. I’m just curious. Is she always like that?” “Always like what?” He chooses the first few words that come to mind. “Calm. Collected. Apathetic.” Taehyung makes a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat and frowns, considering the question seriously before he shakes his head. “No, not really. I actually don’t think Y/N is apathetic at all.” “Really?” Jungkook is surprised. “Because she doesn’t give a shit about me. I mean, she doesn’t even talk to me if it doesn’t have to do with curling. And when I try to talk, she answers me with one word.” “Wow.” There’s a twinkle of amusement sparkling in the boy’s irises. “Does she hate you or something?” “She said she doesn't.” When Taehyung gives him a look of ‘how can you be so sure’, Jungkook adds on, “I asked.” “Y/N’s a bit timid, I guess.” He folds his arms behind his head, resting. “She’s actually pretty clingy and affectionate and talkative when she gets into it. Reminds me of my younger sister. Yoonji’s so close to her because Y/N practically latched onto her. Plus, Y/N awakens a protective instinct in a lot of people. But she can be annoying. Don’t tell her I said that.” Taehyung laughs, his words holding no malice and spoken all in good fun, as if he was talking about his own sibling, slightly endeared if anything. “Maybe it’s better if you keep a distance, then you don’t have to suffer from her rants.” Jungkook is absolutely shocked. He hangs onto every syllable that his friend speaks and it’s almost like he’s talking about a completely different person. He looks away, fingernails skimming on the ice as he unknowingly pouts. “Maybe she really does hate me.” “Probably not. Y/N’s not the type. She’d only hate you if you hated curling or something.” Taehyung giggles and gets up to his feet, stretching out his arms. “But that’s probably not it. She’ll warm up to you eventually. Give it some time. But anyways, you wanna go grab some fast food? I’m starving.” Unfortunately, Jungkook doesn’t hear his friend. He’s too preoccupied, or rather, being driven insane. The more and more he hears about you, the more curious he becomes.

The pressure is on. With only so much time left, it was really hitting you like a ton of bricks. You have to do well. Especially since you carried such a big role on your shoulders. You are the captain, the leader of the team. The last two shots are yours and if you don’t do well, you’ll let the rest of them down. These thoughts echo in the recesses of your mind and you get down into position. The arena is quiet, lights only shining on the ice, the smooth surface shimmering, and you hold your breath. With one swift motion, you throw the stone towards the house at the end of the sheet, trying to reach the center. It travels close, but not close enough. And you throw another one. And another one. And another one. You keep throwing until all ten are gone and then you walk to the end, collecting them again and starting the entire process over. You can’t feel anything, not your fingers or the tip of your nose. Sweat drips from your skin, all you see is the stone and the house. All you want is to win. Everything else fades into the background. “You should drink something.” Your concentration is shattered when something cold presses against your cheek. When you look up, blinking past the bright fluorescent lights to the shadow looming over you, you find Jungkook holding a water bottle. “Thanks.” You’re breathless and you sit down properly, letting your legs rest as you twist the cap of the bottle open, downing half of the liquid and quenching your thirst. Jungkook sits too, but he maintains a good distance to not make you feel uncomfortable. “I..uh..came to practice too and I saw you. How long have you been here for?” You lightly shrug. “Time?” He’s learnt to read your own worded answers and glances at his phone. “Eight.” “Oh.” It’s later than you expected. “Twelve hours.” “You were here since eight am?!” Jungkook’s doe eyes are double in size, his mouth hanging open. You don’t pay any attention to him, stretching your arms and wincing a little. “That’s...impressive. Have you eaten anything yet?” You shake your head and he clears his throat. “Do you want to go grab something together? I mean...I haven’t had dinner yet either and only if you want to. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfor—” “Sure.” Jungkook’s surprised you actually agreed and he doesn’t want to admit how happy it makes him. The both of you end up walking down two blocks to the twenty-four hour convenience store. At this time of night, there’s no one except for you and him, some college student, and a bored high schooler cashier. The sound of the fridges whirl in the back and your apathy is replaced with interest as you lean forward, studying the rows and rows of food carefully. Jungkook shifts to stand beside you, considering the products as well. “What are you getting?” “Ramen.” A ghost of a smile appears on your face for a split of a second and you grab two of them. Before heading to the counter, you pick up candy and snacks like you’re trick-or-treating and you turn to Jungkook with another idea. “You want drinks?” Holding cup noodles of his own, his eyes light up. “Sure.” The pair of you gather outside to eat. You’re waiting for your noodles to cook in the boiling water, the cup sitting on the square plastic table while you’re settled in the white plastic chair. The street is quiet; the only noise is the muted buzz of the lamppost above you, casting a yellow glow down and bleeding together with the warm light coming from inside the store. After a moment, Jungkook comes out after pouring water into his own cup noodle but he has something else in hand. You jump when something cold presses on your left shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he mumbles when you take the ice pack, looking at it, and he settles into the seat across from you. “Your left shoulder hurts, right?” The coldness soothes the aching muscle and you lose tension in your body. “Thanks.” You’re surprised that he noticed. You didn’t even realize yourself, having accidentally overexerted your body during practice. Jungkook sits back and opens a bag of honey chips, throwing a few in his mouth, the snack crunching as he chews. There’s a moment of silence before he breaks it. “We work in a team.” You meet his eyes and he smiles gently. “It’s okay if you rely on us.” “I know,” you murmur. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.” “You won’t. If we win, we win together. If we lose, we lose together. That’s why I like team sports the best.” Jungkook grins and a small sigh of contentment leaves the seams of his lips. “You’re never alone.” You stare at him. Jungkook takes another handful of chips before setting it down, continuing to mumble as he chews in his cheek, “Anyways, you should keep an eye on that shoulder. Tell me if it worsens. If it doesn’t get better by tomorrow, we can go down to the clinic.” “Thank you.” “No problem.” Jungkook mixes his noodles, looking to see if it’s ready yet. He sets it down, letting it cook for another few minutes as he cracks open the bottle and takes a small sip. “I forced myself to play through an injury once.” He stares down at the label, rotating the bottle in his hand and letting the liquid slosh around inside. “I thought the entire team was counting on me. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone and I had worked so hard to be there that day. I didn’t want to give it up. But if I didn’t play that day…..” It’s not difficult to put two and two together. “You wouldn’t be here right now.” Jungkook raises his head and locks his gaze with yours. Your stare is powerful, like you’re really looking at him, maybe even straight through his skin, and he becomes nervous. Still, he prefers this over you purposely avoiding eye contact. “Yeah...maybe not..” Suddenly his appetite is lost but he shakes off the feeling, taking the noodles and forcing himself to eat it. He shrugs. “I’m just happy I can be on the ice.” You mix your own noodles, stirring before blowing on them thoughtfully. There’s some awkward silence before you take the leap, deciding to reveal a secret of yours in exchange for his. “....I was supposed to be a figure skater.” You’re not sure where it’s coming from but you’re in a reminiscent mood and the memory comes stumbling to the forefront of your mind. Jungkook looks up and you continue, “I wasn’t good at making friends. So when I was in elementary, my mom signed me up for a sport so I could get to know people.” There’s a slight smile on your face and you open the bottle, taking a sip. The alcohol burns pleasantly down your throat and you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “She was supposed to sign me up for figure skating, but she signed the wrong form and I joined curling instead.” Jungkook can’t help but laugh, especially when you’re sighing and pouting. It’s tragically funny. He’s baffled considering how curling and figure skating are two very different things and you were now in this sport all because of an accident. He wonders if he would’ve met you if the circumstances were different — if he had continued with hockey and you were a figure skater. Maybe you would’ve run into each other at the Olympics or some other competition. “What happened after that?” “I went out on the ice for the first few weeks and nine-year old me thought we were doing exercises before they gave us skates. You know...so we can get used to the ice. But eventually when they never gave me skates and handed me a broomstick instead, I knew something was wrong.” He’s chewing a mouthful in his cheek, reminiscent to a squirrel and he’s unable to repress his grin. “And you never switched to skating?” “No.” The corners of your lips are meekly upturned. “I found out I really like curling. The coaches were nice, I made friends, it kind of felt like a family. So, I stuck with it and here I am.” Jungkook hums, agreeing with you. His hockey team felt more like a frat house, which he didn’t mind. But there was something different about the curling team that was so much warmer. The atmosphere was vastly different, almost like everyone actually cared for one another. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if my mom signed me up for something else and not curling,” you say after swallowing some noodles down and taking a sip of the drink. It can be pretty fun thinking about the endless possibilities. “I could’ve done anything...like become a clown.” “I think you’d be better as a mime,” he snickers and you narrow your eyes. “I would not.” “Yeah, you would,” he lightheartedly teases. “If I passed by, I’d make sure to spare you a few coins.” “Psh.” All you manage is a scoff and Jungkook laughs, having rendered you completely speechless.

“Can you believe we’re here?” Taehyung whispers in absolute amazement, mesmerized by the building in front of him. All four of you have your heads knocked back, staring up at the arena that seems to tower in the sky. It’s massive and looking at the top makes your necks hurt. This isn’t like the small arena where your team practices at. It isn’t those small community centers or a tiny indoor area or a puny stadium, but a legitimate, massive arena. “Well considering we were just on a five hour bus...yeah…” Yoonji hums, her butt cheeks still aching from sitting on the stiff seats and being knocked around every other minute from the bumpy road. “I can believe that.” Namjoon and Adora stand behind you and the former man presses a hand to Jungkook’s shoulder and the other to Taehyung’s who are both standing on different ends of the group. “Alright kids, don’t get too comfortable. I know our opponents are nice as all hell and they invited us to have dinner with them, but the championship is still in two days. We gotta get that blood pumping.” “When are the others coming?” Yoonji asks, already wanting to get a move on. The coaches got special permission to try out the sheet. Every place was a bit different and it was best to get a good feel for the arena before the actual competition starts. An advantage to the team being split into men’s, women’s, and mixed, was that you could all compete in friendly rounds together and not have to go out of your way to invite an opposing team to play. This would be the last practice round before resting fully tomorrow for the actual games. “They’re still getting settled in at the hostel.” Adora checks her watch. “They should be here in less than twenty minutes.” “You know what’s my favourite part of this job? The paperwork.” Namjoon sighs in exhaustion, running a hand over his face and probably clogging his pores as he does so. “We have to figure some stuff out. So, go inside first and stay there. And don’t cause any trouble.” At the word ‘trouble’, Yoonji feels something on the side of her face, a strong force, and when she turns her head, she glares at her coach. “Why are you staring at me?” “No reason.” There’s a tight-lipped smile that comes from Adora. No amount of staring or glaring can help. The four you are lost causes, troublemakers from the start. But things go well when you enter. It’s nice and all you manage to do is marvel at the architecture, the high ceilings and white pillars that hold the infrastructure. If the entrance is this lovely, you can’t imagine what the rest looks like. For one, you know there are multiple rinks in here, not just sheets for curling, but also for skating, hockey, and all other kinds of ice games. As you wait — Taehyung bothering Yoonji for his own amusement while you and Jungkook make small talk — the peace is disrupted by loud, boisterous noise coming from a cluster of hockey members exiting from a door. They’re dressed in red jerseys, hair wet with sweat, brand name duffle bags slung on their shoulders. Before you look away and mind your own business, one of them nudges the other. “Hey….isn’t that Jungkook?” Not being discreet at all, they point right to where you are. Beside you, Jungkook seems to stiffen, eyes downcasted. He recognizes the group as a team he used to compete with. “Jeon Jungkook?” The taller one snorts. “Nah, can't be. What are they anyways?” “Oh, isn’t there something going on this weekend?” Someone else butts into the conversation. “What?” “Can’t remember.” “It’s curling, dumbass.” Another calls out from the back of the group with a bark of a laugh. But the shorter one frowns in confusion. “What’s curling?” “It’s the cleaning sport. They mop. The sweeping thing.” The taller one literally facepalms when the other guy is still blank. “You know...the one where they’re always screaming.” “Oh. That.” He’s not that enlightened by the revelation. “How is that even a sport?” “Beats me. Doesn’t need any skills or talent. Bet my two year old nephew could play it.” “Guys, guys, you’re so uncultured.” The other guy laughs. “It’s the sport for women. They’re competing with their scrubbing skills, duh.” Another one of the members chortles. “More like a sport for janitors.” The entire team tunes into the conversation, laughing and openly insulting you four as if you’re not even standing right there. “Janitors got bored and wanted to make a sport for themselves.” But if there’s one person who won’t allow themselves to be made a mockery, it’s Min Yoonji. The girl stands up to her feet in one fluid motion, her voice loud and dripping of venom. “Hey! If you got something to say then say it to our fucking faces, you pathetic cowards.” The taller one puts his palms up. “Woah there, the cat bites.” The entire group laughs boisterously, acting like high school assholes that never grew up. “You should save that passion for your little game, sweetheart.” “You must be really good at cleaning,” another pipes up with a dumb joke that they think is so funny. “How much to hire?” A muscle twitches in her cheek. Her jaw clenches hard enough for her teeth to shatter and she balls up her fist, nails sinking into her skin while she takes a step forward, ready to throw punches and scratch faces. But Taehyung’s own hand is faster, moving up to grip at her shoulder to stop the girl from making any mistake. “Yoonji...” “Don’t touch me,” she hisses out and shakes him off. Jungkook’s been over the rules tens of times before, especially when Namjoon’s lecture on the ins and outs of championships was an hour long and Yoonji, herself, reminded him not to fuck shit up for the rest of them. If there’s violence, the entire team can be disqualified from participating. Everything you worked so hard for will go down the drain. “Stop it.” You stand on your feet before Jungkook can step up. And like always, you are calm and collected, seemingly unaffected by the other’s outrageous and disgusting comments. “Hey,” some guy whispers from the group while you’re trying to compose Yoonji, but Jungkook notices and catches wind of what he says. “That girl’s kind of cute. How much do you wanna bet I can bend her over tonight on my kitchen counter.” The other snickers, “Be careful, she might start cleaning it.” Had anyone aside from Jungkook heard it, there would be blood shedding on the floor and scalps ripped off of heads. Yoonji is already physically shaking, angry to the brink of tears and it’s less because of what they said and more to do with the fact that she can’t do anything about it. People like them will always step on what you love most. “Awww, looks like the little maid is all talk. Got no strength in those arms of yours, honey?” Someone aggravates Yoonji on purpose, too entertained with how you and Taehyung are trying to placate her and force her to walk away. What they don’t know is that they’re not just poking a bear with a stick, but an entire team of rabid, fucking bees. Bees are always scarier than bears. Yoonji spins on her heel to face them, this time a vein in her forehead bursting in her skin. “Shut the fuck up, you piece of literal dog shit. Your mom should’ve swallowed you when she had the chance or was it your dad that had a weak pull out game? Stop talking before you overexert your last brain cell.” “What the fu—” Jungkook snorts, and he slides himself to stand in front of you. “If you guys have so much time as to stand around and insult us, then maybe your time is better spent practicing.” A few brows raise and others nudge each other. There’s a murmur over the group of eleven, some comments made from disbelief and others in hilarity. “Oh my god.”— “No fucking way.” — “It is him.” — “It’s Jungkook.” He cocks his head to one side. “If this is what you’re doing all season, it’s no wonder you lose every game you play.” “Wha—” “What was it again?” Jungkook pretends to think before he leans forward like he’s unsure of himself. “Didn’t we win seven to zero last season? I think you broke a record, huh? I guess that’s the only record you’ll ever be breaking.” Taehyung giggles hysterically, stomach aching as it squeezes and he has to physically wipe his eyes from tears of happiness. “No way, seven to zero?! Oh my god!” Jungkook laughs too, turning to his best friend. “No one ever loses that badly. It’s actually kind of impressive how bad they can be. But it was honestly really sad to play against. I felt bad.” They’re embarrassed and humiliated, a handful of them turning away and others clicking their tongue and muttering ‘whatever, man’, unable to refute the truths that come from him. But the taller guy can’t handle it. “Jeon, you better watch that mouth of yours!” “Or what? You’re going to score into my net?” Taehyung is brought into another fit of laughter. The corner of Yoonji’s lip draws upwards, arms crossed and taunting them while the guy is left red-faced, ashamed at the memory. His jaw ticks and he shouts, “Jeon!” “If there’s any cleaning to do, then it’s your team that needs it.” Jungkook smirks, channeling his inner arrogance, playing the role of the frat house fuckboy, a facade he had perfected when he was part of the hockey team. “Also, you shouldn’t be so disrespectful to janitors considering your dad is one, Joshua.” They’re left completely baffled. // The four of you are walking off, to god knows where but that’s not the point. There’s a surge of satisfaction and confidence that boils in everyone’s veins and it feels badass to walk together like this, as if telling the rest of the world that you guys can’t be fucked with. “Ugh, I should’ve just punched them.” Yoonji throws her fist in the air, alternating both arms, and Jungkook can hear how the wind whistles with her swiftness. She should’ve tried boxing instead or the MMA. Jungkook’s certain she’d do well in those areas. “Or we could’ve waited until it was night and then jump them in a back alley,” Taehyung jokes around even though it looks like Yoonji’s legitimately considering it. “But honestly, Jungkook burned them so hard. Did you see the looks on their faces?” He’s still laughing. “Like I thought they were gonna piss themselves from Yoonji’s savage insult but after Jungkook, goddamn, they looked like they were gonna cry.” “Yeah. Not too bad, Kook.” Yoonji smirks in satisfaction, giving him her seal of approval. “You’re a pretty good asshole when you want to be. Not bad at all.” “Uh, thanks?” “But I’m still pissed.” “Just ignore them.” Out of the four, you’re the most apathetic to the whole experience. Sure, you can’t find words to describe how cruel they were and had you been alone, you probably would’ve filed an official complaint, but it was all so childish. Ultimately, you’d rather not waste your energy on such useless things. “Don’t let them have that power over you. At the end of the day, what they think and do has no effect on us.” Yoonji leans on you, throwing her arm over your shoulder. “You’re such an angel.” “No. I just think winning is more important.” “Touché. Let’s win this.”

If there’s one thing Jungkook might never get used to is celebrating before the competition. But here you all were, the entire curling team of twelve people and two coaches surrounding a giant table in a fried chicken restaurant, having drinks and eating away like it’s a wedding celebration. Taehyung told him that this was one of the few traditions your team had and Jungkook had to admit, it was more than nice. Before any games, the hockey players would play up their performance through arrogance and mask any inch of nervousness. Jungkook would always have to hide his shaking hands deep within his pockets. But he didn’t need to put on any tough act here and strangely enough, he didn’t even feel any rush of anxiety. Jungkook feels calm, assured, especially when Namjoon was toasting that no matter what happens, everyone’s already happy to have made it this far. “I really like curling,” Jungkook comments thoughtfully after sipping on some beer. It’s kind of gross and bitter, but he thinks in the future, he’ll become nostalgic drinking it again. Yoonji raises a brow and Taehyung giggles, a bit tipsy. But tonight, he can drink to his heart’s content since tomorrow will be dedicated to recovering from hangovers. “Really? That’s great, Kookie!” “Yes, because we oh-so need Jeon Jungkook to like curling when the match is in two days.” Yoonji rolls her eyes, sarcasm dripping from her tone and she bites into her chicken drumstick like a wild animal before pointing the bone at him. “Why did you even join us if you didn’t like it in the first place?” He laughs, feeling light and happy from the alcohol. “That’s not it. I’m just saying that I really appreciate it now...the sport, the team, the atmosphere of it all.” “We’re known for our good sportsmanship!” Taehyung chirps while fist pumping the air. “It’s the Spirit of Curling!” “Oh my god.” Yoonji groans. “I hate this shit so bad.” “But that’s the fun of it, Yoonji!” The brunette pouts, jutting out his bottom lip and fluttering his lashes. “When our opponent does well, we congratulate them. When we do well, they congratulate us. Isn’t that so nice? We never cheer for mistakes, there’s never negative comments, the winners even buy the losers drinks, we can even end a match if we think we’re gonna lose and that’s okay! Isn’t that so, so, so, so, so, so nice?!” “Yeah, yeah, yeah…” She grumbles, moving onto a fried chicken wing and double fisting with another drum. In the meanwhile, Taehyung has tears accumulated in his eyes, becoming overly sentimental over the game. “Do you think I can marry curling?” “At this rate, the only thing you’ll be able to marry is your anime girl body pillow.” Taehyung puts a hand over his chest, gasping dramatically at his teammate. “You know about Hariki?” Jungkook laughs and then he hears something else, something soft and sweet, a tinkling sound and his ears perk. When he looks over, he realizes that it’s you who’s laughing at something else. But your cheeks are puffed out, eyes slightly crinkled and a noise he’s never heard before leaves your throat. You’re obviously drunk, giggling with the others, and Jungkook can’t find it in himself to look away. Yoonji removes herself from Taehyung’s conversation, rolling her eyes and completely done with him. She looks across from her to the boy who’s suddenly become quiet and when she follows Jungkook’s line of sight, it lands straight on you. Her brow raises and within one blink of a second, she understands exactly what’s going on. “Looks like our little Kookie has a little crush.” She’s leaning forward with a sinister expression, whispering lowly so no one else can hear, at least not when Taehyung’s bothering someone else and his obnoxious later echoes throughout the room. On the simple word ‘crush’, it has Jungkook turning back, nearly breaking his neck from the whiplash. His doe eyes double, cheeks deepening in its pink hue and the glow isn’t from the alcohol. “W-what?” Yoonji smirks and she grabs the nearest bottle by the neck, pouring him a shot, thankfully something other than beer. But still, he watches her warily and she pours her own drink, holding it before motioning for him to do the same. She clinks the glass together and the two of them down it in one go. A satisfied sound escapes from her mouth when it burns her throat pleasantly. “That’s for our alliance. I want to shank you less these days.” “Thanks?” “You’re welcome.” Her smirk expands eerily and he’s reminded why he wanted to piss his pants when he first met her. She is one scary, scary, petrifying lady. “But you’re treading on some dangerous territory, Jeon.” Yoonji steals a discreet glance at you before staring him right in the eyeball. “Make a wrong move and I’ll rip off your ballsack.” “Uhhh….yes, ma’am.” “Good.” Another smile appears as if she didn’t just threaten him and the bob-cut girl leans back, increasing her volume, joining back into the regular conversation. “Who poured a drink for Y/N?! You know she’s a lightweight!” “It’s fine!” You wave your hand, giggling before latching onto one of the older ladies beside you, hugging her arm to your chest. She doesn’t seem to mind, if anything she’s endeared and reminded of her own kids that grew up too fast. “I’m fine….” “Jackson—” “I didn’t.” The older man holds up his palms, laughing in good nature next to his fiancée. “I can’t believe I’m being wrongly accused!” The drinks and chicken-eating continues into the night. After tomorrow, the games will begin and Jungkook can sincerely say he’s excited for it. There’s no pressure on him, no heavy weight laid upon his shoulders, no cold sweats dripping off his skin. He’s not completely relaxed but he’s looking forward to it, ready to try his hand at the sport and try to win. The breeze is cool outside, carding through his hair and making his skin even more flushed. Jungkook digs his hands into his black coat pockets, looking out at the mosaic of city lights. It’s a strange emotion that overcomes him. He thought he lost everything after the injury, lost his friends, his career, the reason he even lived. But here he was, having started over again, and even more content and happy than he thought he could ever be. “Oh my gosh! Look who it is! It’s my favourite person on the whole planet!” The front door is barely held open by Yoonji’s foot as she carries your deadweight, but the moment your eyes lay on Jungkook, you’re giggling and running over to him. He lets out an ‘oof’ when you suddenly embrace him, engulfing his larger frame with your smaller arms, surprisingly affectionate. Yoonji sighs, not even trying to peel you off. “Jungkook, can you watch her for a second? I don’t know where Taehyung went and the last thing we need is for him to wander into the women’s washroom again.” “Again?” “Again.” She exhales in exhaustion. “God, these people are lightweights and drink like they aren’t. Watch her, I’ll be right back. No funny business!” A lot of the team members had returned to the hostels early since their regular bedtime was eight, something Jungkook can’t wrap his mind around. It was only ten right now and he can remember being out past midnight. But a lot of the members were older and couldn’t last as long on a night out which was completely understandable. A few others were in the washroom and the two coaches were paying, splitting the bill and treating the team. So, it was only you and Jungkook waiting outside the restaurant. “You’re so cute, Jungkook.” You’re still hanging onto him, your back arching when you look up at him, smiling sheepishly and searching his face. He swallows hard, looking straight ahead. “I...think you’re cuter.” “Awwwww….” You release him a bit, batting at his arm. “That’s so sweet. See? You’re so nice and kind and soft….” “Soft?” He raises his brows while laughing and you nod enthusiastically. If there’s one word he would never use to describe himself it would be that word. All the other girls he knows would call him hot or muscular or manly or sexy….not that he was tooting his own horn...he’s just never heard someone call him soft before. And as if to reaffirm your belief, you move your palms up, squishing his cheeks together with a squeaky giggle. His lips press together and he flinches, finally looking at you. “See? Squishy! You look like a fish.” “Do I?” His words are muffled and his face is beginning to hurt from smiling so much. For a mere millisecond, his eyes flicker down to your lips that look so captivating, from the dip of your cupid’s bow to the upturned corners, every line and inch. “Yeah..but I hate fishes. I had one when I was ten. It was a yellow goldfish and my best friend and I had it in a glass bow and I brought it around with me everywhere. Once, I remember running and the fish fell out of the bowl and I screamed, but dad put it back in. But then I had to flush it down the toilet when it died.” You finally release his rounded cheeks, suddenly sad but still continuing on your rant, “are you ever scared that the dead fishes will appear in your toilet bowl? Like what if it doesn’t flush all the way down? Imagine all the flushed fishes of the world appearing in your toilet when you’re trying to pee.” “I never really thought about it before,” he says honestly, eyes twinkling in amusement as he watches you. Your skin is glowing underneath the lamp posts’ light and he can genuinely admit you look stunning, even when you’re drunk out of your mind. “Do you wanna sleep with me, Kook?” He chokes. The black-haired boy goes pale as he hacks on his saliva unattractively, the air in his lungs ripped in away in utter shock. “w-..what?!” “You look like you’d be nice to cuddle with.” Your arms return around his abdomen, hugging him. “Like a stuffed bunny. I had a rabbit when I was a kid...but I had to flush it down the toilet too.” Jungkook’s next overwhelming emotion is horror and you laugh. “Kidding!” Part of him wants to just throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, tired of all your shenanigans and how you’re playing his feelings like a fiddle. But being oblivious to his turmoil, you continue with slurred words, “mom never let me have a bunny...or a horse...or a dog…” He can understand why you never got any pets if you couldn’t even keep a fish alive. Jungkook looks down at you and visible gulps. Your tongue runs on the seams of your lips, barely poking out to wet them and Jungkook feels an urge to pull you in by your waist and kiss you silent. He wants to press his mouth on yours and taste what kind of chapstick you use, see if they’re as soft as they look. And yet, he doesn’t. He doesn’t kiss you because he’s a damn coward. He’s a fool. He doesn’t kiss you because he would want you to remember it. And maybe….maybe if you win the competition in two days, he’ll muster up the courage to. “I used to watch you play games, y’know.” You break his train of thought, snapping him out of his trance and his eyes flicker to meet yours again. You’re trying to whisper again, “I’m a fan.” Apparently you like to spill secrets when you’re wasted. “You are?” “Yeah. You’re good at everything you do. The best! The golden player!” You flash a thumbs up, still giggling, and Jungkook is so happy, he could combust into flames right now and be lowered into his grave with a stupid grin. “I like you a lot, Kook.” “Thanks.” His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide and the next thing he says, he means it wholeheartedly, “I like you too.” “You know what would be really funny?” You’re already laughing, giddy and crumbling your fingers into small fists, trembling with excitement. Jungkook grins, too curious for his own good. “What?” You cup your hand over your mouth like you're about to exchange yet another secret, but you’re still laughing like crazy and your voice is loud — “Let’s run away from Yoonji.” “Wait. What?!” His eyes double. “No, that’s a terrible, terrible idea.” Before Jungkook can do anything, you’ve suddenly grabbed onto his hand, dashing off. He stumbles forward, right behind you, nearly tripping and falling flat on his face. Jungkook can barely catch a breath and you’re cackling euphorically, running off into the night and dragging him with you.

The cheers from the stands keep him going. The cold air wafts in the atmosphere, icy breeze deepening his cheeks to rosy hue. The ice rink has a smooth surface, never to be marred by lines embroidered by skates. He steps out on the sheet, ice beneath his feet and the accumulated crowd on the stands cheer, holding the country’s flag up high. The four of you look onward. Jungkook stands beside you, Yoonji on your side and Taehyung on his other side. Each of you brace yourselves before exchanging looks. “Ready?” You smile, feeling at ease. “Let’s do this.”

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bts scenarios #jungkook sports!au #bts sports!au #CURLING IS A SPORT GODDAMMIT!

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vanilla107 · 6 years

Text

I thought we were best friends (Part 6)

She-ra Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Ao3

*****************

“Easy, deep breaths Kitty,” Scorpia murmured as Catra cried into her shoulder.

They were still in the bathroom and Scorpia had found her there a few minutes after their phone call. Catra was sitting on the toilet, while Scorpia knelt down to wipe away her tears with a piece of toilet paper. It was awfully cramped but neither of them cared.

“What happened?”

“I saw Adora here...with Mermista,” Catra hiccupped.

She took a piece of toilet paper and blew her nose loudly. Scorpia was quiet and she furrowed her brows in confusion.

“But wasn’t she dating that Sea Hawk guy? The one who sang all those shanties?”

“Yes, that guy! And now she’s with Adora!” Catra screamed loudly and she dissolved into tears once more.

Her sadness manifested into rage. She hated herself for being so weak just because she saw Adora with someone who wasn’t her. She hated how much power Adora had over her even though she was the one who had called it quits three months ago.

“Why does she still have so much power over me? Why can’t I get over her? It’s been three freaking months!” Catra hissed and hit the stall wall angrily.

Scorpia’s eyes widened and she gently took Catra’s hand in her pincer, being careful to not pinch her.

“I broke it off because I needed to be on my own, dammit! I relied too much on her!”

There was a part of her that knew that she couldn’t move on. Adora had been her whole life since they were kids and even though she resented Adora for it when she was adopted, Catra had looked forward to the day they’d see each other again.

But she was never going to admit that.

“Well...you did leave on rocky terms with her remember? And this whole thing started because she called you her ex-girlfriend. Maybe if you two were still friends it wouldn’t feel this way,” Scorpia said gently.

“Scorpia, I can’t do that. I need to be able to live without Adora in my life,” Catra hissed and felt the all too familiar feeling of jealousy coursing through her.

“I’m sorry Catra...is...is there anything I can do to help you?” Scorpia asked softly.

Catra had just managed to hear Adora and Mermista talking about a mini golf course as they were leaving. Catra hated knowing that Adora seemed absolutely fine with moving on. She wanted her to feel how she was feeling; the burning anger, the bitter jealousy and the overwhelming sadness.

Her mind whirled with evil plans and she gave Scorpia her best sad smile.

“Yeah...there is something we can do.”

**********************************************

“Catra...what are we doing here?” Scorpia asked as the two of them paid for their entrance to the mini golf course. It was partly cloudy but the perfect weather as it wasn’t too hot or too cold. The clouds had gotten darker and Catra could tell it was possibly going to rain that evening.

“To have fun! I need to just clear my head of Adora and this place is perfect!” Catra lied as she tugged Scorpia by the arm and walked to get their putters and golf balls.

“Okay… I just don’t remember you ever saying that you liked mini golf. And… you were crying ten minutes ago because of Adora and now you want to go here?”

“Scorpia...please,” Catra said, adding a hint of desperation to her tone.

Scorpia looked at her for a long minute before sighing.

“Okay, let’s go have some fun. I never would have pegged you as a mini golf person.”

“Are you?” Catra asked and Scorpia blushed.

“I...I think it is fun. Everything is so tiny and cute,” she admitted and Catra giggled at her response.

“Hey, you cannot hold this against me! You wanted to come here!” Scorpia said defensively.

“Okay, okay. I won’t tell anyone!” Catra laughed. Catra didn’t like lying to her friends but her jealousy was too strong. After crying in the bathroom, her sadness was replaced with bitter jealousy and she needed a plan. Her thought process was erratic and illogical but she needed to get Adora away from Mermista as soon as possible. Just thinking about Mermista and Adora together made her skin crawl and her stomach tie in knots.

Adora actually moved on from me?

It’s been three months...so it is possible...?

What does Mermista have that I don’t?

Once the couple collected everything they needed they set out onto the course. The first five courts were outside, each one following a marine theme. Court 1 was dolphins, court 2 was starfish, court 3 was octopus, court 4 was sharks and court 5 was jellyfish. After those, there was an entrance to a warehouse and Catra assumed that there were other themed course inside there. Her ears perked up as she heard a laugh from the warehouse.

Adora must’ve just gone in there with Mermista. We need to catch up.

“Hey Scorpia, instead of doing the usual score sheet, how about we see who can hit the ball into the hole first? That counts as one point. Person with the least points has to buy the winner ice-cream!” Catra challenged.

Scorpia rolled her eyes but she smiled. She wasn’t sure what was going on in Catra’s head but she was happy that Catra seemed to have her competitive steak on. It felt like normal times. She would’ve loved if Entrapta was with them but she had to study for a test.

“Fine, but it better be two scoops on a sugar cone!” grinned Scorpia before she set down her golf ball.

“Do you think Entrapta could join us next time? I think she’d love all the tiny things,” Scorpia asked as she sunk a ball.

“Yeah, sure,” Catra said not really paying attention to Scorpia but more to where Adora and Mermista were.

They quickly made their way through the first courses and moved onto the warehouse. The warehouse was filled with different types of courses ranging from water fountain obstacles, intentional booby traps and stretches of fake greenery. Scorpia was in the lead with three points and Catra with two but she was only focused on one thing.

Where are you Adora?

She spotted the girl on the third course, laughing at something Mermista had said and Catra felt something inside her crack. Catra gripped her putt tightly to stop herself from pouncing on Marine Biology Major. At that moment Scorpia yelled and it was the perfect moment to get Adora’s attention.

“Yes! Another point! Try to beat that Catra!” Scorpia exclaimed loud enough for Adora and Mermista to hear and the blonde locked eyes with Catra.

At that moment, Scorpia noticed that Adora and Mermista were there and she looked at Catra, her face pinched in worry.

“Catra...we can leave now if you don’t want to be here.”

“I...I’ll be fine,” Catra said as she held eye contact with Adora as Mermista hit her ball only to curse that she didn’t get a hole in one.

“I...I could use a hug though,” Catra murmured and Scorpia gladly obliged. Catra sighed into the hug, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before she made eye contact with Adora again.

She saw Adora’s eyes shift between her and Scorpia and the perfect student looked away. This only made Catra angrier.

What the hell? Does she not care that I’m with another woman?

Catra sunk her golf ball into the hole which left her and Scorpia’s score at 4-3. Catra hated how Adora was ignoring her. Is this really how she wants to play it? Not a single apology about leaving her for four years even after she ended their relationship. Even after avoiding each other for three months, now Adora was ignoring her completely? This made Catra’s blood boil as she moved on with the course. They caught up to Adora and Mermista quickly and Catra wrapped her arm around Scorpia’s bicep and sashayed past the other couple. Catra saw Adora’s face drop when she saw how Catra was holding Scorpia and the feline felt a twinge of satisfaction shoot through her. Catra leaned her head against Scorpia’s arm throughout the course and cheered her on, all the while making sure Adora saw all of it.

Mermista, who realized Catra’s presence was distracting Adora, did try to coax Adora’s attention back to her which was incredibly irritating to Catra but she was satisfied with how much Adora saw. Scorpia and Catra finished the course in half the time because they played by their own rules. Scorpia had unsurprisingly won the little competition which meant that Catra owed her ice cream. Adora and Mermista were on their last course and still hadn’t come out from the warehouse. Catra knew she had to do one final thing to put the cherry on top of her plan. They exited the course and handed in their putters and golf balls when Scorpia said she needed to use the bathroom.

“Wait Scorpia, which flavour do you want?” Catra asked stalling and Scorpia laughed.

“Chocolate, duh! You know that!”

“I was just checking…” Catra’s eyes narrowed when she saw Mermista and Adora walk out of the warehouse. Mermista walked off by herself and Catra saw Adora’s eyes land on her and Scorpia.

This was it. Her final shot.

“Hey, Scorpia...can I do something strange?”

“Well as long as it isn’t asking me to bury a dead body then sure-” Scorpia’s joke was cut off when Catra wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled her in.

Catra kissed her. Scorpia froze beneath Catra’s touch. When the feline pulled away, she stumbled back in surprise, her face red. “I-I need to go to the bathroom,” Scorpia said with a stutter and she walked off quickly. Catra turned her head to see that Adora was still standing in the same spot, frozen in shock.

****************************

Adora felt her throat constrict and she wanted to throw up.

Is...is Catra and Scorpia…? They just kissed in front of you! Of course they are!

“Hey, I got us two chocolate bars from the snack bar- Adora?” Mermista asked when she saw the girl trying to hold back her tears.

“I think...I think Catra’s moved on…” her voice wobbled.

“Wait, what makes you say that?”

“They just kissed. In front of me. I saw it with my own eyes, Mermista. I thought we still had a shot-” Adora began babbling and Mermista placed her hands on the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Stop talking. The best thing to do in this situation is to ask her directly if she’s dating Scorpia and leave. She’s already caused enough trouble for today,” said Mermista with an irritated look at Catra.

Mermista hadn’t been blind to what Catra had been doing on the golf course but she had tried to distract Adora for most of the time so that they could still have fun.

“I don’t think-”

“No Adora, I am here and we are going to ask her.”

******************************************

“Hey Adora. Long time no talk,” she said with disinterest as the couple walked towards her.

“Hey Catra…” Adora said softly and Mermista rolled her eyes and glared at the feline.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of mini golf,” she said her eyes blazing with anger.

“Oh, y’know, I just do it to feel relaxed and playing it with Scorpia is just-”

“Cut the crap, Catra. What are you doing here with Scorpia? I thought you two were only friends,” Mermista frowned.

“We are only friends.”

“That’s not what it looked like!” Adora suddenly yelled, causing Catra and Mermista to jump.

Catra’s temper flared and she took a step towards Adora, Shadow Weaver’s words echoing louder and louder in her head.

You need her by your side to thrive. I wonder how you’d fail if you didn’t have her in your life?

“Well, I don’t have to explain anything to you! You were the one who ‘wanted more space’ between us, Adora! That’s why you broke up with me in the first place! What about you and Mermista, huh? When did that become a thing? We’re not together anymore and why do you suddenly care who I date? It’s not like you cared when you left me for four years!”

“Catra…I...” Adora broke off and she put her face into her hands and broke down into sobs.

Mermista put an arm around Adora and glared at Catra.

“Let’s go home, Adora. I’ll make you some tea.”

Catra watched the two of them leave and she cursed that her plan to make Adora jealous didn’t work. She had expected her to lash out, scream or even go full on crazy but all she did was cry. She turned around to go and get ice cream from the snack bar when she bumped into a large figure. Scorpia’s face was void of emotion and Catra felt a shiver go down her spine.

Crap. How long was she standing there? Chill Catra, you can get yourself out of this one.

“Scorpia! I was just about to get you ice cream-”

“-You used me.”

Catra tensed up temporarily but tried to play it off.

“Scorpia, I know this looks bad but please understand-”

“No Catra! You can’t just expect me to understand and be okay with this! You brought me here under false pretenses to get your own petty revenge, bribed me to play the game your way, wanted to hurt Adora on purpose when you haven’t even tried to talk to her in months and then you kiss me! What kind of friend does that?”

“Scorpia-”

“Let. me. finish. You couldn't handle seeing Adora with another girl so you used me instead? You wanted to make her jealous so that she’d come running back to you? Well guess what. Maybe Adora isn’t the problem here! Sure, she abandoned you for four years and then expected you two to be friends again. Sure, she broke up with you first because she needed space. And guess what? Every freaking couple goes through that!” Scorpia was yelling loudly at Catra and the feline could feel herself shrink under the gaze of her friend.

“But that does not mean that you can use other people to cause more hurt on another! Adora probably had to deal with her own problems when she got adopted! Did you ever bother to think about her? Maybe she hasn’t spoken to you because she doesn’t know how to after you broke up with her! Maybe you need to take a good long look at yourself before pointing fingers at Adora and blaming her for your problems!”

“You don’t understand Scorpia! You grew up in a home that loved and accepted you. I never had that-”

“-You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see you go quiet whenever the conversation shifts to family and us growing up? I know came from an orphanage, Catra. I have no idea what happened to you while you were there and judging from the way Adora acts around you, she doesn't either,” Scorpia’s voice cracked and tears dripped down her face. Scorpia was crying, her sobs making Catra break a little inside.

Catra hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten and she tensed when thunder rumbled. It didn’t take a long time for the rain to start falling. Catra flinched under the cold droplets and saw how deserted the golf course was.

“Adora isn’t a mind reader, Catra. She was probably dealing with her own problems when she moved schools! Adora being Adora probably wanted to prove herself to her new family and school so she worked her ass off. Was it shitty for her to not visit you or reply to your letters? Yes. Does this mean you had to twist the knife so deeply into her back? No.”

Scorpia’s short hair was plastered to her forehead and her clothes were slowly getting soaked through. There was silence for a brief moment before Scorpia opened her mouth again, her words cutting Catra like ice.

“Adora was probably the only person who knew you better than anyone else. If you haven't shattered any possible hope of ever being friends, let alone girlfriends, the night you broke up with her, you definitely have now.” Scorpia’s glare chilled Catra and the muscular woman turned around to walk away.

Catra sprinted forward and grabbed her wrist tightly, despite the rain making it difficult to get a good grip.

“Wait Scorpia! You’re my friend! You do know me!” Catra argued, her tone increasingly becoming panicked.

Scorpia removed Catra’s hand from her arm and continued to walk to the exit of the mini golf course in silence. She turned around to see the feline’s hands clenched into fists and could make out that she was starting to shiver. Her wet hair and fur reminded Scorpia of one of those stray cats who was left out in the rain to fend for themselves. Scorpia held Catra’s gaze for a second before wiping her eyes and saying her last sentence.

“No Catra… this person you are...this person filled with anger, jealousy and bitterness...I don’t know this Catra. I...I don't think I know you at all.” Catra watched Scorpia walk away and she wanted to run up to her and beg, plead or do something to make this better but Scorpia was already disappearing from her sight.

She lost Adora already.

She couldn’t lose another friend.

But her feet were rooted to the spot because somewhere deep down, she had asked for this. She had wanted to see how she could thrive without Adora in her life and she fucked up so badly that she hadn’t just lost the one girl she truly loved.

She had also lost two friends, Adora and Scorpia.

She sprinted out of the golf course and ran, her tears blurring her vision temporarily.

She couldn’t go to her apartment because Scorpia was going to be there. She couldn’t go to Adora’s apartment. Catra ran blindly and when she felt her lungs burn she stopped and tried to catch her breath. She looked around her for the first time and realized that she had found her way to the park and at the exact same space that she had sat when Glimmer had approached her after sending those text messages. The same place that she and Adora had so many of their dates. She sat down on the bench and brought her knees up to rest her head on them. She cried hard and ugly, not caring if anyone saw her. But then again, who would be out in the rain at a park?

“Catra?”

Catra’s ears stood up straight and she swallowed hard.

No, out of all the people to see her like this why did it have to be her?

“Please just leave me alone,” Catra whimpered, holding herself tighter and wrapping her tail around her body.

“Catra, you are soaking wet and are crying. You must think I’m crazy to leave you like this,” the voice said with softness but there was determination behind it.

“Look, I don’t think you’re supposed to care this much about me or-”

“I can when Glimmer has spoken much about you.”

Catra wanted to die as she looked up slowly and saw Professor Angella standing over her with an umbrella and groceries in her other hand. Angella raised her eyebrow at Catra.

“Look, Glimmer was way out of line-”

“Catra, I know. Why do you think she asked Scorpia to meet up with her the other day?”

“Scorpia...met up with her?” Catra asked, her tail going limp.

Angella sighed and handed Catra her umbrella before pulling her raincoat hoodie over her head.

“Come with me Catra. I have hot soup at home and I’ll see if I can get any clean clothes that fit you.”

Catra looked at the professor and she exhaled slowly. She had nowhere else to go and her stomach grumbled loudly.

When was the last time I ate? Yesterday...afternoon?

“Okay, but please...today hasn’t been the best so...can we please keep the questions to a minimum?” Catra whispered and stood up, the rain pattering lightly in the umbrella.

Angella nodded but Catra couldn’t see the small flicker of hope in Angella’s eyes as they walked to her house.

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