“Bal,” The voice of his best friend was a gentle whisper, something that caught Balthazar’s attention immediately even though they were surrounded by screaming fans and cheering players as they stood in the middle of the field.

    Vladimir Avdonin was a lot of things (cocky, stupid, childish, funny) but the one thing he didn’t have in his personality was consideration. He knew how to care about other people, but he wasn’t very good at it. Which meant that he was the type of person to joke around in the most serious of situations because he didn’t know how to handle the stress.

    Which means that the hesitant, haunted look in his gaze instantly put Balthazar on edge.

    The game they had just won fell away from him, and in that second, he couldn’t remember that he was in the middle of a field, still holding a brown pigskin in his hands, getting pushed around as the rest of his teammates celebrated. At the moment, all that was there was him and his crying best friend.

    “Vlad?” He questioned, his deep voice unusually soft. He took a step closer to him and cocked his head to the side curiously, placing his hands on his friend’s shoulders comfortingly. “What is the matter?”

    Vladimir ran one of his hands through his hair and looked away, sniffling as he did so.

    “Come along. We will go find my parents and they will know what to do.” He grabbed his arm, but could not take any steps away because Vlad refused to move.

    “Bal, there was an accident,” He said quietly, closing his eyes tightly before looking back at him. There weren’t any tears on his cheeks, but his eyes glistened with the threat of them. “Your parents… They…”

    As he trailed off, the pigskin slipped between his hands and landed on the grass with a dull thud as he stared at him. “They what?” He questioned, his voice harsher than he meant it to sound. He felt sick to his stomach, terrified that he knew the outcome without Vlad saying it. But he needed to hear the truth. He could not jump to conclusions. “They what, Vlad?!”

    Vladimir winced and approached his friend, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly. “I am so sorry Balthazar,” He breathed, his voice choked.

    And that was when his self control snapped and he hugged him back with all he could, hiding his face in his best friend’s shoulder. He didn’t cry though.

    He was afraid that if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  - - - - - - - - - - - - -

    Balthazar stood alone in the middle of the deserted field with the championship metal gripped in his left hand and a tall bottle of alcohol in the other. He didn’t move for a very long time, he just drank, glaring at the field goal under the stars.

    “You proud, Father?” He called, his voice cracking as he staggered forward a few steps. He was dressed in the same all black suit he had worn to the funeral earlier that day, but his hair was a disarrayed mess and his eyes were bloodshot. He sniffled and tilted his head back to stare up at the stars. He waved the metal precariously and scoffed. “It was your dream, was it not? To see me lead the team to victory at the championships… Then to get a scholarship playing professionally… Then join a good team somewhere far away from here,” His voice was slurred and laced with amusement as he spoke to no one. “But where are you now? You are supposed to be here, congratulating me!” His voice began to raise, until he was drunkenly screaming at the sky. “You are supposed to throw me over your shoulders like we do every time I win a game! You are supposed to shrug off Mum when she tries to tell us off for being reckless! You are supposed to see me-“

    “Balthazar Talon Piers!”

    The shout caused him to stagger back a few steps and turn to stare at the same guy who had been with him throughout everything. The same guy who was responsible for giving him that terrible news. The same guy who was Balthazar’s brother without being related in any way.

    “Vlad,” He breathed, moving so he could sit on the ground, holding his hands on either side of his knees helplessly. His breathing accelerated to rapid rates until he was nearly gasping for air, struggling to see his friend through tear-filled eyes.

    Immediately Vladimir was on the ground next to him, pulling him into his embrace and holding his friend tightly. “It is alright, buddy, I am here.” His hands rubbed up and down his back soothingly, cradling Balthazar’s slightly larger body as if he was terrified he would break him, yet scared he would fall apart if he let him go. “I will always be here.”

    It was then that Balthazar finally allowed himself to cry.

    They were loud, messy sobs of heartbreak and pain that shook his entire body, but he held onto Vlad tightly, and his friend never let him go. Not after he calmed down, and not after his tears had finally dried into small sniffles.

    “It is me and you Bal. Always. You’re stuck with me.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

    “You will call me right?” His voice was a quiet hum, looking around the airport nervously to avoid staring at his friend’s crestfallen face.

    “Of course, buddy. Every single day. You are not getting rid of me just because you move halfway around the world.” Vlad's voice cracked on the last sentence and Balthazar sighed before making his way over to him for a quick hug.

    “I cannot be here anymore,” He breathed, resting his chin on Vlad's shoulder and looking behind him at the raining sky. “There are too many memories. It hurts to even leave the house now.”

    “I know, I know, but…” Vlad wrapped his arms around him and squeezed tightly. “I am going to miss you, my brother.”

    Balthazar had to close his eyes tightly against the large swell of emotion that blocked over his feelings suddenly. After that scene at the field, he had been very good at becoming numb. Feeling nothing was much better than feeling pain, but Vlad always had the uncanny ability to bring up things he struggled to bury.

    “And I you,” He whispered back, swallowing thickly. “I will visit soon, I promise.”

    He pulled away and his heart damn near broke at the tears swelling in Vladimir’s eyes. “You will always be my brother,” Bal whispered, gently patting his cheek and forcing himself to smile. “No matter the miles between us. Do you understand?”

    Vladimir chuckled and nodded, sniffling as he wiped his eyes before the tears could fall. “Yes, yes, I know,” He said quickly, a teasing tilt to his words. “Get your ass on the plane before you miss your flight. Or before I drag you back to my house and force you to live in my basement.” It was obvious that Vlad was just trying to lift the situation with humor, and that only made the ache in Balthazar’s chest grow larger.

     He would miss this place. He would miss Vladimir, but he simply couldn't stand to live here anymore.

     So he was going to make a new future for himself. In America.