A tattooed hand dials down the volume of the music playing in the car, making it easier for him to spot the two students strolling comfortably on the lit path between bricked dormitories.

His eyes are low beneath the brim of his hat and the interior of his car is hazy from smoke as it puffed through his nostrils.

Dez sits up in his seat after not moving for what felt like hours. He blinked a few times, pulling his hat around to sit backward on his frizzy mane of twists.

He'd been sitting there in the parking lot for about 20 minutes, piling over what he would say or do once he'd worked up enough nerve when or if he saw her.

To say he was prideful would be an understatement.

He wasn't raised to know how to process his emotions healthily or admit when he was wrong. Accountability was a foreign concept. His entire family was in the streets or prison at some point or another and love was just a word used by the weak.

Dez didn't sweat the small shit, which to him were things like relationships or the feelings of others. He respected women as much as he deemed they deserved and when one didn't serve his needs at that moment, he was often dismissive of them.  They always came back anyway so why trip?

Even with Alana.

He loved her and he knew that.

But he couldn't love her more than she loved him.

He wasn't built to.

There was something about seeing her new tattoo though, the one covering theirs completely, that gave Dez the impression that she wasn't coming back this time.

His eyes wandered to the hand resting lazily against the steering wheel, lingering on the faded anchor amongst the many other tattoos that branded covered his tawny skin.

None of them touched the anchor though.

He coughs out the last pull of his blunt and he narrows his eyes when he immediately recognizes Alana walking from the distance as she neared her building.

And who she was walking with.

"You alright?" Alana asks with mild concern etched on her brow. Yoongi glances over at her curiously, the hand kneading tirelessly at a spot on his shoulder.

He'd been massaging and rolling the aching joint periodically as the two crossed the familiar path between their dorms.

Alana didn't make anything of it at first but when a sharp wince stopped him mid-sentence as they talked, she couldn't help but notice how he'd been messing with it.

"Hmm? Yeah...what you mean?" He asks obliviously and Alana frowns.

"Yoongi...you been messing with your shoulder since we left. Does it hurt?"

As if he'd just noticed his hand clasped over the ball of his shoulder, Yoongi drops it and shrugs as if to prove something and nods.

"Aw yeah. Im good. Just sore.." he denies.

"From last night?" She lifts her brow and Yoongi shakes his head.

"Naw. I think from practice..but that shit ain't help.." he chuckles breathily, still rolling the shoulder in question.

"Have you done anything to help it? Like icing it or stretching?" She suggests and Yoongi turns to regard her with a wrinkled nose and amused smirk.

"Ok, Mom..." He teases lightly and Alana scoffs beside him as if she were offended by his tone.

"Uh excuse me..I see muscle strains and sprains a lot in cheer and if you just let them be, they only get worse!"

"Man, Im good. I promise." Yoongi shakes his head in denial and he resists the urge to go back to rubbing his shoulder to keep Alana from worrying him about it.

Sure, it hurt.
Sure it had been hurting.

But Yoongi was used to it. He was an athlete and sprains and strains happen.

No big deal.

Alana doesn't seem too convinced but doesn't press the issue any further. She had enough on her mind as is.

Crickets sing softly and the scuffs of their footsteps slow to a halt once at the stairs of the Western Hall. Yoongi shrugs against the chilliness with his hands in his pockets, shaking the tufts of hair from his face as he turned to Alana, who seemed to have something troubling on her from the way she gazed up at her building.

"You straight?" He asks and Alana nods.

"Yeah. This weekend just went by too fast.." she responds almost regretfully, shaking her head. Yoongi says nothing. Only following her gaze up towards her floor and then back down to her face.

Their conversation had remained light as he accompanied her back to her neck of the woods. Though he'd originally intended to discuss Saturday night, Yoongi couldn't bring himself to just say what was on his mind.

How he felt.
How much he wish he had kissed her.
How he wished Taehyung's ignorance could have at least held off for a couple of seconds.

But all he could muster while walking the path between Alana's building and his dorm was small talk. It still nagged him the entire time though.

"Always does," he responds tiredly just as she looked back at him.

"Yeah.." Alana's pout fades to a smirk. She rolls her eyes towards the entrance of her building and Yoongi stands by with his hands fisting anxiously in his pockets, waiting for her inevitable ascension up the steps.

But she hesitates, sucking her bottom lip a little before turning on her heels to face Yoongi with narrowed eyes.

He gazes down at her curiously and perks his brow.

"What?" He asks after a moment of tense eye contact and Alana sighs.

"Why don't you have a girl, Yoong?" She blurts out and both of Yoongi's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

😈:
Oop..

"Um...I dont..know" He mumbled, visibly caught off guard. Alana rolls her eyes, more at herself for the impulsive ask than at his obtuseness, but it burned to keep in any longer.

" I mean..We've talked about it, yeah. You're focusing on school and ball. You do your own thing and shit But you're you...You're chill as hell and thoughtful and funny...

"..and fine..." she says to herself.

"...and smart and hell, you playing for Bayfield would be enough for anyone to have a flock. I just.." she pauses.

"You just what ?" Yoongi fills the silence, his soft gaze boring into hers as her expression shifted from conflicted to blank.

His scent flows over her on a breeze and she has to swallow back her apprehension under the intensity of his soft gaze. Her tongue pokes at the corner of her mouth and her brow creases thoughtfully. Yoongi was such an enigma. He was always so calm-natured and level-headed. Never impulsive. Unreadable. Sometimes even cold if you didn't know him well.

But the way he looked at Alana now with eyes that could melt ice, she struggled to hold onto the courage that compelled her a few seconds ago. He tilts his head and a softness glosses over his features in a way Alana had rarely seen.

A stronger current passes between them, taking Alana's breath with it and her lashes flutter to break the little spell taking them both under. She blinks and glances at the sliver of space between their bodies for a moment before smiling bashfully.

"I don't know...Sorry" she huffs after remembering to breathe again, almost nervously and Yoongi frowns.

"For what?" he falters and Alana shakes her head as she backed away from him, stepping up one of the stairs towards her budding. Yoongi mindlessly takes a step after her but opts to remain on the ground since the backpedaling was obvious in Alana's sheepish expression.

"For getting in your business. Look, it's cold as hell, and my hair is wet. And you're toes are out.." she points towards Yoongi's slides comically, and he glances down quickly before looking back up at her curiously.

"You should head back" she finishes, already beginning to back away. Without thinking, Yoongi reaches out for her wrist gently. Alana pauses and glances down at his hand before gazing back up at him. He furrows his brow for a moment, also noting the way he'd grabbed her. But he doesn't pull away or release her as he usually would.

Alana watches a shadow cast over Yoongi's face from his wind-blown hair, along with the shade of a burdening thought stuck in his mind.

Yoongi says nothing though as he held her gaze, and he just watches his thumb as it skims over her pulse before slowly loosening his gentle grip.

"My bad.." he huffs with a nervous smile and Alana joins him with one of her own.

"You're right though. You should head up and finish drying your hair.." he finishes, reaching back with that same hand to rub at his nape.

Alana's lips twitch into a haphazard smirk that's followed by a nod.

"Ok...Thanks for today. For helping me with it. Seriously.."

Yoongi nods in acknowledgment as he pushed his hand back into his pocket.

"Lite work, I told you.." he teases and Alana rolls her eyes.

"Whatever...I'll see you in class..." she giggles as she turns away.

With that, Alana retreats up the stairs and to the door, where she used her student ID on her key chain to scan to open the door.

Yoongi remained on the sidewalk patiently, his expression forlorn at first but the moment Alana turns to wave at him, the corners of his lips lift into a relaxed smile.

"Yeah..See you...."

Monday

The athletic department's hallway stretched thin and eerily as Taehyung stepped forward.  His backpack hangs lazily from his shoulder and his feet felt like they were trudging through cement the closer he was to the door at the end of the hall.

Practice today was...eh.

He knew there would be a pinch of awkwardness once everyone saw his face, which looked worse today than it did Saturday night. 

A few hours ago..

The stares weren't subtle when he entered the locker room and even the normal banter amongst his teammates fell to a hush as he made his way toward his locker.

Yoongi sat quietly at the end of the grated bench that was set against the far wall near the showers, glancing up from his phone as Taehyung set his bag down and bench nearest to him.

His glare was heavy, although unassuming to most, Taehyung felt the tension between them from across the room.

"Sup T..." fellow teammate Gabe approaches casually but flinches when Taehyung turns to him. He grimaces dramatically, bearing his teeth as he took in the speckled deep red and purple bruise nestled beneath Taehyung's still very swollen eye. The split in his lip was still red and irritated, along with the cut through his brow.

He'd done his best to clean up and ice his face the best he could to help with the swelling but it had little effect.

"Fuck.."Gabe mutters under his breath and Taehyung responds with an irritated hiss through his teeth. He rolls his eyes as he turned back to his locker, promptly unzipping his jacket to remove it.

"I'm good, G. Thanks for asking.." he remarks sarcastically before tossing the garment lazily over the designated hook.
Gabe closes his mouth and lifts his brows in surprise.

"Uh..you sure about that?" Gabe follows up.  Taehyung ignores him as he continued to prepare for practice. He carefully pulls his T-shirt over his head, mistakenly revealing the mild scrapes on his shoulder blades from when he was slammed against the fence. Since Taehyung was on the lighter side, they looked worse than they were.

"Damn!" Gabe exclaims, earning a harsh scolding look from Taehyung as he quickly pulled his practice jersey over his head.

"Can you go be a pain in my ass somewhere else? Please.." Tae emphasizes but Gabe doesn't budge, only planting himself against the locker beside Taehyung's.

"Has Coach C seen you yet?" He asks in a lowered tone and Taehyung sighs.

"No. I have to meet him later. I don't think he's leading practice today though. I didn't see his car when I came in."

"Yeah, I think he has his meetings and shit today."

Taehyung nods but makes no moves to say anything else. That text from the coach had been haunting him all weekend and now that the day came to face him, he just wanted to get everything over with.

"You know I saw TJ this morning..." Gabe says suddenly, tapping Taehyung's shoulder with his knuckle. The name makes his skin bristle but he otherwise shows no reaction to it other than shrugging.

"Ok.." he dismisses and Gabe smirks.

"Yep. I think you'll be pleased to know that he looks far worse than you. Nigga was limping and some more shit...Didn't know you had hands like that.."

Knowing TJ was injured might have appeased Taehyung if he didn't feel so wounded himself. The entire situation was silly and could have been avoided if he'd just walked away.

"I'd be pleased if that shit never happened. I feel like a jackass.." he mutters through clenched teeth. Slamming his locker shut, Taehyung plops down on the bench behind him and begins lacing up his shoes aggressively. Gabe regards him empathetically for a moment.

"Eh. I wouldn't dwell on it. You handled yours and nothing too bad came out of it. Everything will blow over soon.." he tries to reassure with his muscular arms folding over his chest. Taehyung mumbles something condescending under his breath as he switched to work on his other shoe.

More of the team pools into the locker room and their volume echoes boisterously from the walls. One teammate passes the two on their way past the lockers, acknowledging Gabe and Taehyung with a nod before heading towards the showers.

"Aye, bro! You still got that pack of K Tape in your locker..."

Taehyung didn't mean to, but at the sound of Yoongi's voice, he looked over and saw the interaction between him and their teammate from a distance.

Yoongi stands as the taller teammate approaches him, dapping him up before following him out of sight to the other row of lockers.

Taehyung didn't know why but part of him wished Yoongi would have spared him a look. But on the other hand, he was glad he didn't.

He didn't think he could take the coldness he knew Yoongi would have for him if he had.

Over the weekend, Taehyung meant to contact him to hash things out and apologize but every time he started to call, he'd just set the phone down.

Maybe Yoongi was right.

He was a bitch....

A burdened sigh puffs at his cheeks as he lifted his hand to tap against the clouded glass on the door and Coach Cruz's gruff tone can be heard from the other side to summon him in.

Taehyung swallows back the lump of anxiety mounting as he turned the nob, stilling his nerves before entering.

The Coach's office always smelled of leather and floor wax, an odd combo that was always unique to these settings. The walls to the left displayed NCAA plaques and trophies of the past, as well as many awards Coach Cruz accumulated throughout his career in athletic leadership. The other sides of the office were lined with a bookshelf filled with books and picture frames of his family and his past teams.

Taehyung spots a photo he was in of them from his freshman year that was snapped when their team made it to the finals with Couch C hugging his and another teammate's shoulders with a prideful smile.

He was an older guy, roughly in his mid to late 50s, but one couldn't tell just by looking at him. The afternoon sun-glazed over dark almond skin and his shiny waves of onyx hair, cut low and tapered on the sides that him that attractively young look despite the faint wrinkles around his eyes and mouth that couldn't only be seen when he smiled.

Something he was NOT doing right now, by the way.

He glances up briefly from writing something to acknowledge Taehyung's presence, gesturing towards the leather-bound chair opposite his desk with his pen.

"Go on..have a seat," he instructs and the younger obeys, stepping forward cautiously.

He drops the strap of his bag from his shoulder and sets it on the floor beside the chair, eases down into it, and waits patiently for the coach to finish writing whatever he was working on. After 2 agonizingly slow minutes, the click of the coach's pen has Taehyung tensing.

Coach Cruz sighs heavily as he sets the pen aside, lifting the cover of the huge binder to close it.

"What's up, kid? How you doing?" He asks him as casually as he always did, the calmness in his tone off-putting. Taehyung shifts in the seat.

"Im good." He responds with a forced nod and Cruz regards him blankly for a moment.

"Good. Whats with the shades?"Cruz then asks, tipping his chin sharply towards Taehyung, who was indeed wearing the most conspicuous pair of sunglasses he could find in the student center's bookstore.

After all the stares he'd been getting that day, the glasses made Taehyung feel like he was less of a spectacle with them on than without.

At least that's what he thought.

"Hmm?" He asks dumbly and Cruz scowls.

"THE SHAAADES.." the coach drawls out in a heightened bark often reserved for practice that makes Taehyung flinch.

"Oh! Yeah..these...It's really bright out today and I have a migraine so.." he chuckles nervously.

As he speaks, Coach leans forward to snatch the glasses from his face and Taehyung winces at the pain still throbbing on the side of his head and an audible hiss of disgust fills the room.

"Boy...what the hell happened to your face?" he asks and Taehyung frowns as if he didn't understand the question, knowing full and well he looked worse now that the bruise haloing his eye socket was in that purple phase of healing. His lip wasn't bleeding but the gash was still very noticeable.

"Watchu mean?" he feigns ignorance and Coach Cruz slams his hand down on his desk.

"Don't play with me. Coaches talk so you already know I know exactly what happened Saturday night. But I need you to explain it to me in a way that keeps me from doing what I wanna do. Which is give you an ass whooping my damn self..." he snarls and Taehyung blanches at the threat.

Coach Cruz was more than a coach. He'd recruited and mentored Taehyung straight from High School and although his family would have been able to foot the bill for his tuition, Cruz made sure Taehyung met the criteria for his athletic scholarship.

This was personal.

"Coach..." Taehyung stammers but his tongue goes limp as his brain floods with words. Cruz narrows his eyes at him darkly and leans back in his chair.

"Start...talking.." he says, tossing the ridiculous shades to skid across his desk.

Taehyung watches the glasses tumble over the glazed wood before glancing down at the floor.

"Ok, so......I was at the Gamma house for that homecoming thing. I was drinking a lil bit but I was chilling...Stuff got kinda heated when I saw a dude putting his hands on my ex outside. He got mouthy and I just decked him. I kinda blacked out after that." Taehyung ran through his overly simplified version of what happened with a shrug, keeping his eyes low and his hands clasped in his lap.

"Hmm...and that's it? Just a drunk fight did all that?" Cruz gestures to his face and Taehyung nods.

Taehyung resists the urge to say 'You should see the other guy' snarkily, but he knew better.

"So a girl caused this..." Cruz deadpans and Taehyung lifts his head sharply.

"No. This wasn't her fault. I was out of line too but dude was way outta line..." he insists.

"Because he was tryna take your girl?" Cruz lifts his brow and Taehyung's mouth is set in a grim line.

"Ex.." he corrects bitterly and the coach snorts.

"Ex..next..whoever. But it doesn't make it alright for you to conduct yourself in that manner. You could have seriously injured TJ and yourself. One wrong step and your life changes. How many times do I have to drill that in y'all heads??"

"Yes sir..I know. And I feel horrible."

"I bet! You look horrible. You made your team look horrible. You played horribly at practice today from what Coach James told me. You know some of the other coaches believe I should remove you from the team?"

"Over a fight?" Taehyung gawks at the idea and Cruz narrows his eyes menacingly.

"Over making an ass of yourself is more like it!"

Taehyung grimaced at the truth of that statement. It would be an understatement to say that shame was all he felt when he thought of Saturday night. He hurt Jade, probably more than he already had.

He wasn't focused and was completely off of his game today. Missing passes. Stumbling to post up. Air balling.

It wasn't him.

Not to mention how distracted he was by how Yoongi didn't acknowledge him on and off the court. Not even cordially for the sake of the pick-up game.

"Yeah..."  is all Taehyung can say in response, his head back drooping. Coach Cruz sways in his seat for a moment, watching Taehyung pop his knuckles and pull at his fingers. He then studies the wounds marring his face and clenches his jaw.

He sighs.

"You know this is serious right? You assaulted one of Bayfields star players. Not once but twice from what I was told. Both of you are injured. And quite frankly you embarrassed the hell out of me and this team. What if that boy presses charges?"

Taehyung had to suck his teeth at that.

"He ain't pressing charges.." he mumbles, kicking his foot out to slump lower in the chair. Cruz rears his head back in astonishment at Taehyung's nonchalance.

"You don't know that. And either way, that's not the point." He shakes his head and Taehyung's mouth shrugs before running his tongue of his teeth beneath his top lip, his eyes planted to a spot on the carpet as he bounced his knee.

The aggression and frustration radiated off of Taehyung and his demeanor has the coach admittedly surprised.

He narrows his eyes at the young athlete and leans up in his seat.

"What's going on with you?"

Taehyung's knee stilled for a moment as he looked up to match eyes with his coach.

"Nothing." He frowns and Cruz shakes his head.

"Naw......naw, Im not hearing that nor am I accepting that. It's something." He says and just stares at Taehyung intimidatingly for a few tense seconds.

Taehyung's eyes widen a fraction and they glance sideways as if he wasn't sure what the coach was looking at him so expectantly for.

"I.....I don't know what you want me to say, Coach.." he says finally, and with that, Coach Cruz leans back into his chair.

"Ok..Well until you figure it out, you're benched."

"Seriously?" Taehyung almost jumps from his seat and Coach Cruz pins him with a look that makes his ass one with the scratched-up leather beneath him.

"Until you can tell me how one of my best players went from being an example to his team to being the type of person who gets drunk, starts fights, and plays half-assed in practice...Walking around here looking like some bar room brawling MMA fighter..you're gonna sit your sorry ass on that bench and figure out who the hell you wanna be." He states matter-of-factly with an authoritative tone reminiscent of Taehyung's father. It makes him cringe and the urge to cry wells hot and heavy behind his eyes.

"Come ooon, Coach. Over one fight? You can't do me like this, please.." he pleads raspily and Coach Cruz shakes his head.

"I hate to do this son. I really do. But this is the least severe option. I had half a mind to take you off the team altogether, but then you would lose your scholarship. I'm sure you wouldn't need it with how well off you are but I know your parents wouldn't be thrilled about it. "

Another fact.

He didn't even want to think about what his mother would say if she were to see his face right now.

"You have a gift son. Beyond ball, you are gifted. You're smart, most of the time. There are a lot of people who care about you. People who want you to succeed. You could have the world at your fingertips but you just wanna squander all of that away over shit that doesn't matter. It's like you want to throw every good thing you have away..."

With every word, Taehyung felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into the seat. But he knew he needed to hear it. He'd been hearing it. It just wasn't setting in because he was still getting by and nothing changed.

Until it all caught up with him.

"So first game, you suit up and sit your ass on that bench. Understand?" Coach Cruz ends his lecture by reaching for the discarded shades on his desk and tossing them in Taehyung's lap.

They land in his palms and he clasps his fingers over them tightly.

"Yes sir." He mutters between his teeth, clenching his jaws to keep from crying like he wanted to.

He felt pathetic enough as is knowing that for the first time since he was a freshman that he'd be riding the bench like one as a 3rd year after always starting.

He was embarrassed and ashamed that things had come to this but for the first time, he could only blame himself.

Coach Cruz stands slowly, prompting Taehyung to do the same.

"Good. Now go put a bag of peas or something on your face. You look crazy. You're dismissed..." He waves his hand towards the door as Taehyung shrugged his backpack strap back over his shoulder, pushing the shades back on to shield the tears on their way to roll down his face.