[defender meets midfielder] (CLOSED)

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 3, part 9
the final

Valanora
Raynor City
The Battleground

Ten minutes to go.

The atmosphere was tense, feelings running high; but that was of course, normal for any match for the Tumbran Under-21 team. Fresh off beating Abahnfleft in the semi-finals, a common sense of purpose had come to envelope the team over the past few days; to bring the fabled Di Bradini Cup home. The long flight to Valanora hadn't dampened their spirits; if anything, it'd strengthened them, to try and put things right.

The journey had been long; harrowing, nervous, even; a campaign that had started so well had descended into mild fear before being rescued, a miracle performance by some of the senior team’s future stars. And it continued. Now they were ninety minutes away from lifting the trophy. A year ago a team led by the likes of Legget and Krabb had fallen at the final hurdle twice; now they were back, ready for revenge.

Trudy Harrison looked, calmly, composedly even, at the rest of the starting eleven as they prepared to leave the dressing room. How far they’d come. How far they’d go. Her emotions deep down were anything but calm, though, pride welling inside her as she looked at each and every single member of the team.

Victoria, a Lakewood lass, who’d grown so much playing on the windswept pitches of Brenecia; looking stronger than ever. More assured, calmer, growing into her role every day; within a few years, if she managed to break through, she would surely be knocking on the door of the national team in a few years. She’d grown so much over the past year; a far cry from the nervous wreck who’d conceded two against Tequilo so long ago.

Annie, always one of the smallest ones, the thinnest ones, too; a proper Ridgewell girl through and through. Her small stature hadn’t stopped her from playing football her own way, though. She’d played her heart out at the back, trading places with Finney; though the poor boy missing a penalty against Lathamford meant that she’d stepped in for the game against Abahnfleft, again, Finnegan evidently deciding that the poor boy’s mental condition was shot. No prisoners, no going soft; she was a fullback in Trudy’s vein. Cassadaigua, too, had treated her well.

Wendy from Hesham, as she’d introduced herself on that fateful day where the Nine had gathered for the first time; a centre back with a keen eye for a pass. She, too, had gone to Cassadaigua, where Columbia had strengthened her up a bit; she was no longer someone who’d be muscled off the ball, requiring either Stephen or Ricardo to cover for her. She’d grown into her own, a common theme for many of the players in this starting eleven. They were the protagonists in their own story, each one having come a long way in merely a year.

James — probably the least familiar name on this team, even though they’d gone to Zeta Reka last year together. Tracey had been injured; she was on the bench this game, though Finnegan evidently didn’t want to risk her injury getting worse. Fast, assured, Couno’s backup right-back was thought to be searching for a move overseas, perhaps inspired by Stephen; so that at least said something about the stead in which he held his ability. But he, the Couno native, never showed it; humble to the last, eager to learn and teach in equal capacity; always there with a smile. Maybe for a final match James was probably the better choice; though it did mean the team would miss out on a few opportunities from the right.

The first Valerie; the only female player on the team to not have been part of the Nine. Couno born and bred too, though she plied her trade at Delphi; she’d been Delphi’s star girl since the transition to the equal-gendered league. There was the usual awkwardness, as there always was when new people were introduced to an existing friend group; but she’d blended in well, and brought a nice dimension of creativity to the team. She and Trudy were always ready to scoop up balls, though Trudy had told her on several occasions to not drop back so deep; after all, it’d affect her ability to launch her passes. Eventually she’d stopped; but Trudy always loved her daring attitude, a willingness to help. And she was a helpful source of news for the rest of the Nine, distributed all ‘round the globe.

Susan, completing the midfield trifecta; she’d come from sleepy Southport, but her mind shone as bright as her radiant smiles on the pitch whenever she’d completed a particularly good pass or sent in a striking free kick. Which was often. Short, but slippery and agile, she always made good use of her frame to dribble effectively; but for now her smile had vanished, eyes closed in a state of zen. She’d need it, if she were to become the creative genius she always had been. A source of sunshine, Susan was; always there, ready to cheer people up when they needed it.

And the other Valerie, on the left, from Fontwell; her country twang had never left her voice, even after she’d left the country for snowy Quebec. Her own way, she claimed, of staying Tumbran in a foreign land. She lived for these occasions; nothing suited her better than a capacity crowd screaming their lungs out at her to take the ball and run. She’d not used her usual trick of cutting in on her right foot and shooting with her left this time; evidently in an attempt to shape up her game. Loud, determined, and confident; Valerie (or Vee, as the gang had come to know her) knew how to dribble, and had been working on her finishing throughout the year. She’d been the glue that held the side together; always trying to find out how everything was going.

On the other side, Lynne from Washington. She’d taken the bold step of moving to faraway Kelssek, throwing herself into Strathcona’s side. Veins made of ice, ever-composed, ready to swing in a devastating cross; with four goals to her name, too, she’d usurped Valerie’s claim to being the top scorer of the team. Things remained really friendly between them, though; they’d worked on their game together, and were now each stronger for it. Perhaps the quietest of the bunch, Lynne always seemed a lone wolf to the uninitiated. Yet after she warmed up, opened up, she was one of the most caring people one could meet.

Nick of Serrapince, strong, fast, lethal up front; there were rumours he’d been brought back just to power the team to the Final. He had, after all, scored eleven goals last edition; and four goals had been a solid return for him. And it’d worked; shutting up the many questions of whether someone with senior team caps should be allowed on a junior team. Evidently the need to win outweighed youth development, for this edition at least. Finnegan knew what he was doing; this golden generation would play at most once together. This was their one chance. They could not let it go. Stoic, assured; some would call him arrogant, maybe; but he was amongst the hardest workers on the pitch. And he had the chops to back it up.

And then, of course, Stephen from Straton. Their lives had become irrevocably intertwined the moment he walked through the door that day in Kven; and he’d become, in a way, her rock.

From all the way in Tumbra.

She’d never let him know that, of course; firstly, because it would have been extremely embarrassing for her, but also because he’d never let her live it down. She always felt safer when talking to him; she always felt happier by his side, too. Yes, they’d argued, but they’d gone through the past year of their lives together; and with him hopefully joining her in Chromatik, there’d be more of the same thing, too. For someone who was being looked upon as Tumbra’s next great defensive hope, he weathered the load remarkably well, refusing to think of the stresses it entailed. There wasn’t much to be said, really, between the two; after all, they’d shared memories, and to go through all of it again? Futile, to say the least.

And finally, her. Trudy Harrison of Kingsbury. She spent three seconds thinking about where she came from, then moved on.

Not worth entertaining those thoughts now.

She was proud of everyone. Well, mostly everyone; but mostly her crew and Stephen, nonetheless. They’d grown so much over the past year; maturing, becoming better people, better footballers.

This was their victory. Regardless of what happened, their exploits a year ago had resulted in a victory. Equality. They might not touch the World Cup in their careers, but they’d made sure that if Tumbra ever made it there, a Tumbran girl would have a chance to lift the trophy.

And that was their victory.

Five minutes.

It had been a tumultuous tournament, for sure. They’d come so close to being booted out; then like a miracle, they’d been delivered.

TUMBRA 1-0 SAVOJARNA

TMB (4-3-3): 1 - Jones; 2 - Renton (18 - Finney, 68'), 4 - Kerr, 5 - Pritchett (14 - Wyatt, 79'), 3 - Mercurio; 6 - Harrison, 8 - Lawrence, 10 - Monaghan; 7 - Wells, 9 - Crossley; 11 - Riordan (22 - Hardaker, 91')

TMB scorers: Nick Riordan (22')

Player of the Match: Nick Riordan (TMB)

Baby steps; a solid victory, a clean sheet. Nick managing to edge past Martina Erlandsen, Stephen Kerr continually denying Lars Alvesen, the defence as a whole holding steady against a deluge of shots against their defence.

GRÆNTFJALL 1-2 TUMBRA

TMB (4-3-3): 1 - Jones; 18 - Finney, 4 - Kerr, 14 - Wyatt (20 - Hamilton, 84'), 3 - Mercurio; 6 - Harrison, 16 - Robertson (23 - Finnemore, 74'), 10 - Monaghan; 7 - Wells (17 - McGarry, 65'), 9 - Crossley; 11 - Riordan

TMB scorers: Lynne Crossley (13', 56')

Player of the Match: Lynne Crossley (TMB)

A veritable curveball; playing against tiny creatures. Two goals by Lynne; two assists coming from, of all people, Nick. Ricardo making a mistake which would prove costly; Barry coming on for him near the end. Friction abounding; Trudy dropping lower, playing deeper, securing the win but being unable to hunt for that elusive third goal.

TUMBRA 0-2 STARBLAYDIA
Starters: 1 - Jones; 2 - Renton, 4 - Kerr, 5 - Pritchett (14 - Wyatt, 45'), 19 - Green; 6 - Harrison, 15 - Morris (23 - Finnemore, 78'), 10 - Monaghan; 17 - McGarry, 9 - Crossley (21 - Baker, 82'); 11 - Riordan

TMB scorers: None

Player of the Match: Cristaldo Sarro (STB)

A clash against the hosts would see the visitors come off worse; though they were playing on home turf and Tumbra, ostensibly, were not. Sarro would deny Riordan multiple times, with his acrobatic saves; the very presence of Ázëwyn Fëanáro imposing on the match. Outfoxed? Perhaps. But they couldn’t have said they hadn’t tried.

PEMECUTAN 1-0 TUMBRA

TMB (4-3-3): 1 - Jones; 2 - Renton, 4 - Kerr, 20 - Hamilton, 3 - Mercurio; 6 - Harrison, 15 - Morris (16 - Robertson, 62'), 10 - Monaghan; 7 - Wells, 9 - Crossley (21 - Baker, 71'), 11 - Riordan (22 - Hardaker, 83')

TMB scorers: None

Player of the Match: Leo Olivando (PCU)

Hanging on by a thread in third, needing a win against group leaders Bollonich. Ninety minutes of terrible, stilted football; the defensive organisation in shambles; a tension boiling over. A torrid mistake by Hamilton; nearly coming to blows after the final whistle. Trudy and those on the pitch restraining Stephen, half the bench running onto the pitch to restrain Barry; Finnegan putting a stop to their near-brawl.

A low point.

An outright miracle that the score was only one goal to nil.

TUMBRA 4-1 BOLLONICH

TMB (4-3-3): 1 - Jones; 18 - Finney (2 - Renton, 61'), 4 - Kerr, 5 - Pritchett, 3 - Mercurio; 6 - Harrison, 15 - Morris (23 - Finnemore, 84'), 10 - Monaghan; 7 - Wells (17 - McGarry, 73'), 9 - Crossley, 22 - Hardaker

TMB scorers: Lynne Crossley (31', 68'), Julie Hardaker (52'), Trudy Harrison (90'+1')

Player of the Match: Lynne Crossley (TMB)

A miracle; Nick on the bench, complaining of a tight leg; Julie striking hard, using her chance; a complete domination on Tumbra’s side. Trudy scoring the fourth goal to send them through; the jubilant celebration after the victory heard from every end of the stadium.

TUMBRA 3-0 LISANDER

TMB (4-3-3): 1 - Jones; 2 - Renton, 4 - Kerr, 5 - Pritchett, 3 - Mercurio - inj (19 - Green, 45'); 6 - Harrison, 15 - Morris (8 - Lawrence, 71'), 10 - Monaghan; 7 - Wells (17 - McGarry, 80'), 9 - Crossley, 11 - Riordan

TMB scorers: Nick Riordan (3', 67'), Stephen Kerr (42')

Player of the Match: Stephen Kerr (TMB)

Nick back to his blazing best; Kerr popping up with a rare headed goal by the far post; a worrying injury right before half-time for Tracey, though Green came in more than handily. Their best win, for sure; another dominant performance from the team.

TUMBRA 0-0 LATHAMFORD (0-0 AET) (4-3 PENS.)

TMB (4-3-3 -> 4-4-2): 1 - Jones; 2 - Renton (18 - Finney, 73'), 4 - Kerr, 5 - Pritchett, 19 - Green; 6 - Harrison, 15 - Morris (22 - Hardaker, 107'), 10 - Monaghan; 17 - McGarry (7 - Wells, 85'), 9 - Crossley, 11 - Riordan

TMB scorers: Nil

Penalty Shootout: Nick Riordan O Trudy Harrison O Chris Finney X Valerie Wells O Lynne Crossley O

Player of the Match: Victoria Jones (TMB)

It had to come eventually; the team’s reckoning with penalties. A hundred and twenty minutes of dour football, where Lathamford were content with taking the occasional shot; five brave players stepping up.

Nick into the top right corner, a confident effort from the striker.

Trudy down the middle, a bold move to fake out the Lathamford goalkeeper.

Chris aiming for the bottom left; but missing by inches, hitting the post.

Valerie, bottom left; the goalkeeper guessed the right way, but he dived too far up, and her shot was too powerful.

And Lynne — who else? — taking the decisive fifth penalty, wrongfooting the goalkeeper completely. Top right, like Nick; and they were into the semifinals.

But the real hero of the day had been Vic; diving the correct way on pretty much every single penalty, getting her gloves to their last two penalties, parrying both of them. A wild celebration. A tiring one, too.

TUMBRA 1-0 ABANHFLEFT

TMB (4-3-3): 1 - Jones; 2 - Renton, 4 - Kerr, 14 - Wyatt (5 - Pritchett, 72’), 19 - Green; 6 - Harrison, 8 - Lawrence (15 - Morris, 78’), 10 - Monaghan; 7 - Wells, 21 - Baker (22 - Hardaker, 90’+5’), 11 - Riordan

TMB scorers: Nick Riordan (90’+3’)

Player of the Match: Nick Riordan (TMB)

Ninety minutes of end-to-end football. Trudy being stretched to her limits. A goal-line clearance by Wyatt. Monaghan’s through ball in injury time to Riordan, Riordan striking the ball first time, past the arms of Pendergraft. Wheeling away in joy. Wiping away the pain of their previous adventure. Through to the Final.

They’d arrived.

One minute to go.

Walking to the front of the pack, where she’d lead the team out into the Battleground pitch, Stephen flashed her a knowing smile.

“You’re nervous.”

“Yeah.”

He took her hand, and clasped it within both of his. “We’ll do fine. We’ve done enough. We’re ninety minutes away from winning. I know what you can do, Trudy.”

“And I know what you can do.”

“So run.” He grinned.

“So tackle.” She grinned.

“And don’t take that armband for granted. Though if we make it I’m lifting that trophy with you.”

“Like we did a year ago?”

“Exactly like we did a year ago. Remember to not touch the trophy on the way out, though.”

“Superstition?”

“It’s a Republic Cup thing.”

Trudy mouthed some words at Stephen, but they were drowned out by the overly-enthusiastic stadium announcer, calling for both teams to begin walking onto the pitch. Trudy gulped; turned round to face the front; and began walking, the rest of the team in tow.

It was time.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 3, part 10
the flight

Valanora
Raynor City
The Battleground

What’s it like to take a penalty?

Well, you’ve done it once. Several times, actually. Lathamford. The CCFA Final. It’s not a big deal, really.. Place your ball down. On the spot, of course. Pat it down a bit, make sure it doesn’t roll. Take a step back. Yep, it’s still there. Hasn’t moved an inch. Now get a good look at the goal. Twelve yards to it. Twenty-four feet wide, eight feet high. Looks massive, but stick a goalkeeper in there and suddenly it doesn’t look so big. The goalkeeper. What’s his name? Chandrasekar? Looks nervous. Tall, waving his arms up in the air. He has to save this for his team to remain in it, and he knows it. Vic’s parried one, saved one, and he’s only saved one.

Then again, you’re nervous too. You’re just not showing it. You can’t, really, can you? You were the one who told Stephen Kerr you wanted to play for penalties, you idiot. And he duly complied. Him, Annie (later Chris), Wendy, James (later Tracey, who decided she’d recovered enough to try and put in a shift), and Vic. All five of the defence, mopping up every ball, tackling without impunity, stopping the Adab offence in its tracks. They’ve put in their shift. You put in yours. But you’re still nervous. But you still can’t show it.

Plus, you’re the captain. Four clean sheets in a row’s nice, of course, and it’s an admirable record to end the tournament on. Maybe Vic’ll get a chance in Lotus Park now that she’s proven her worth? God knows. Penalty. Back to that.

Decide where you’re going to place your shot. Down the middle, like last time? If anything, he’ll have prepared for that. He knows you’re going to do something stupid. Best to just knock it with power, top right. So that’s it. You’ve decided. Don’t change your mind now. Your shot will come off all the weaker for it.

Penalty run-up? Pah, who cares? What matters is how you knock the ball. Big steps, five to reach the ball, no more, no less. You’ve practiced this multiple times, a rocket of a right foot. Can’t possibly get out of sync now, can it? Ignore the crowds. Ignore the crowds. Ignore the crowds.

One last glance back at the team. Shoulder to shoulder, holding each other. Everyone’s there, everyone else on the sidelines. Chris, Stephen, Wendy, Tracey, Val, Susan, Vee, Nick, Lynne. Shoulder to shoulder, hands gripping each other, standing together. Four of them had gone; three had scored.

Nick, top left, confident, assured, a small fistpump after doing the deed. Lynne, cool, calm as usual, not even flinching as she delivered the best penalty. Bottom right. No reaction, nothing, just calmly walking back to the team after scoring hers. Val, bottom left, unfortunate to have it saved; hands on head as she walked back slowly, despondently. Vee, walking it back; top right, powerful; the camera recording the penalty going dead as the ball smashed into it, more joy as she sprinted back to the team. They know you can do it. You can sense them willing you on.

Now the other sideline. Vic. She can’t bear to watch, can she? Eyes closed, facing away from you. You know she believes in you, Trudy Harrison, she just can’t watch this right now. If you were watching at home, you probably wouldn’t either.

But you alone know you can score this goal. You alone know where it’s heading. He’s reading you; he thinks you’re going to go down the middle like last time. Hah!

Pe-peep!

Wrong.

One, two, three, four, lengthen out your leg, five! Connect your boot to the ball, the inner sole of the thing sending it upwards. No heroics now, Trudy Harrison, this is for keeps. Score, and you win. Miss, and, well, there’s always others. Susan’s chomping at the bit to take one. Maybe Stephen, too.

But you don’t really want them to take the penalty, do you? Hah. You know what’s coming next. The ball flies in an arc, towards the top left, dips a little. Chandrasekar looks, dumbfounded, that you haven’t sent it down the middle; after all, that’s where you sent it last time! He leaps, though; and while there’s a fear he might make it, his outstretched arm limply punches clean air; too late for the ball that just misses the crossbar by inches and sails into the net. The ball causes the net to ripple; and thumps to the ground, momentum stopped by the criss-crossing white lines of the goalmouth.

It’s in. It’s in? It’s in!

The stadium erupts in raucous celebration. Tumbrans who made the journey down to Raynor besides themselves in joy. Neutral Vanorians, more composed, but still celebrating for the team who won. But it’s all a blur to you. The moment it registers, you do what any self-respecting penalty shootout winner does.

You bound off to the corner flag, arms in the air, screaming like a mad person. You’ve just won the Di Bradini Cup.

You’ve just won the Di Bradini Cup.

---

The tall, silver trophy sat on a pedestal atop the podium; the team eagerly awaiting the moment that they would lift the trophy. First went the brave Adabians, who’d attacked, attacked and attacked again; denied only by the defence and Victoria Jones, again and again and again. The lottery of penalties had denied them cruelly; on another day, with another set of minor circumstances, they’d be the ones lifting the trophies, not the Junior Eagles.

Despondent, they still put on brave smiles for the camera. Two losses in two finals wasn’t the best of results to take, but they’d still come through and had reached two finals; this was a dynasty to behold, if Saad Kaykali could muster his forces together.

And then, the victors. They’d come so close; but they’d rallied, come together to concede a grand total of zero goals in the knockout rounds. Zero against Lisander, Lathamford, Abanhfleft and Adab. The defence had won this.

One by one, they went up the podium, receiving their gold medals. Victoria. David. Richard. Annie. Chris. Stephen. Wendy. Ricardo. Barry. James. Tracey. Trudy. John. Susan. Valerie Morris. Ian. Mark. Valerie Wells. Alistair. Lynne. Julie. Nick. Edmund, their manager.

And once it was done, Trudy and Stephen stepped forward, put one hand each on the trophy; and lifted it to cheers and confetti. A year ago, they’d lifted the U18 trophy. Now, here they were, lifting the U21 one. The two smiled at each other as they held the trophy aloft; they were the future. Then, celebrations; the trophy was kissed, caressed, passed around the team, with photos taken, confetti raining down on the team. It was only the Di Bradini Cup, some might have said; but with the senior national team having suffered from a succession of embarrassing group stage exits on the main stage, Tumbra needed to be reassured that they could still win. That there was hope, now, that they could win in the future. If luck were on their side. If they stayed the course.

For now, though? It simply felt good to win.

---

The Next Day
A Plane To Tumbra

A red-eye flight, for some reason, had been scheduled for the team; thankfully, the TFF had appropriately cashed out on their winners. They’d be flying business class back home; first class apparently made the accountants’ eyes water at the expense.

Trudy tuned out the whirr of the plane, eyes trying to adjust to the deep blue night lights. And she looked around. Most of the team was asleep; Ricardo had eye covers on, James just curled up on his seat, awkwardly adjusting his long frame to the curvature of his seat. Victoria and Annie watching a movie together, clad in blankets. Nick holding his remote like a game controller, pushing buttons here and there. Silence, punctuated by occasional “dings”, and, of course, the hum of the outside world.

Funnily enough, the middle of the three seats that Trudy was in sat an empty seat; though it didn’t take much to notice that there was something in it. It was the trophy itself, of course. Finnegan had declined the honour of sitting with it, preferring to discuss the win with the rest of the staff; so it fell upon Trudy to sit with it. Stephen had originally wanted to sit next to Trudy on the flight home; upon hearing that the trophy would be sitting between them, he sounded a bit disappointed; but eventually made do. He was sound asleep, a peaceful look on his face; Trudy cast a glance at him, then looked back outside the window. The deep blue sky outside, with the occasional twinkling light of a star, above cloud level.

Poetic, to say the least. A useful outlet to think. A long flight, where she couldn’t sleep...

She began thinking again. A moment about where she came from. Kingsbury, Georgia. Or at least the very boundaries of what constituted Kingsbury, though after she turned sixteen she essentially was a Kingsbury native —

Something else, something else. Now wasn’t the time.

If not now, then when?

When the time comes, probably. When it comes. If it comes. If preferred over when, obviously.

She looked over again, at Stephen, who’d rolled over onto his back, mouth opened.

Stephen Kerr. Her best friend. Something she thought she’d never really find. A buddy, team-mate, confidante. For most things, anyway. There were some things she wasn’t ready to tell him; hell, she didn’t know if she would be ever ready to let him know, no matter how close the two of them got.

At the same time, she knew that she’d need to tell him at some point. Platonic intimacy came at a cost, of course; the mortifying ordeal of being known.

Yikes.

Maybe one day. She had to face who she was one day, where she came from, and all of that. She couldn’t run from it forever. Maybe facing it with someone like Stephen, who’d always have her back, was better.

Her train of thought was abruptly stopped by a snore; Stephen’s mouth had opened, and the noise really only could’ve come from one location. She rolled her eyes, and smiled.

Idiot.

She leaned over, and tilted Stephen’s head to the side, gently. No stirring from the defender; Good. Evidently he slept very heavily. But it worked; the noise stopped almost immediately. Gently smiling, she relaxed back into her seat, and put on her headphones.

---

Tumbra

Early morning brought with it a descent from the clouds, and a familiar coastline appeared.

Home.

Dark blue gave way to brilliant orange as the sun rose; the squad were gradually roused from their slumber as the plane began zooming in on Couno. Everything looked quintessentially Tumbran after an extended stay in the desert paradise that was Starblaydia and the land of elves that was Valanora. Really, it was just Raynor City, but nothing beat home for most of the squad.

Eventually, the plane landed, and after the trophy was presented; yes, it really was in Tumbra now, after the heartbreak of the fiftieth edition. The squad filed off the plane; there was the usual, red-eyed photo with digitinaries, luminaries and the like; then they were off on another bus ride to the debrief.

Most were thinking of a quick ride home. James, in particular, lived about an hour away from the training centre; he’d be off home almost immediately after the debrief. Some, like Lynne, faced another red-eye flight; this time to Strathcona, Kelssek, to link back up with her team. Trudy would fly back to Anaia; back to Chromatika, back to Chromatik, to see if anyone, anyone at all, could stop Wirr Tsi. She’d probably see Stephen soon enough, anyway. The transfer had been the last thing on their minds during the Cup; having made a decision before flying off probably helped.

The debrief was fast and sharp; Edmund didn’t offer much in the way of detail. He praised the players on a job well done, regaled each one with individual praise (Barry notably received much less than the rest), and hoped for the chance to work with each one of them again. It was the end of a journey, really.

And that was it. They’d won; there wasn’t much else to talk about, though the victory was still setting in for some. It was back to reality, though, and the short sharp shocks they wrought; Strathcona faced a gruelling season trying to punch their way up in Kelssek’s league. Lotus Park in Brenecia had to try their damndest to get promoted. In snowy Quebec, Swanguard was trying to do the same; and Perce was getting ready to transition from the old generation to the new.

It would be back to the corners of the globe for the Nine, though they did now have an additional member in their ranks, to anchor them home.

Boxworth emptied out steadily over the next few days; and finally, it was time for Stephen to bid Trudy goodbye. The negotiations with Chromatik were taking place in Couno; away from Straton, and they were progressing extremely well. The two knew this, of course; so it was less of a “goodbye for another year” and more of a “see you soon.”

Days flew by; contracts were signed, Stephen was confirmed as a Chromatik player quickly enough. For all the drama he’d been through this summer, negotiations with Chromatik were essentially a non-event; the Chromatiks knew how to do business.

Soon, it was time.

---

A Few Weeks Later
Straton International Airport

The Kerr family was gathered at the departures lounge. There was the four of them; Cook the dog wasn't allowed in airports, so his goodbye had to take place earlier. Cook had attempted to prevent Stephen from leaving by thumping his tail on the floor and attempting to pounce on Stephen; but eventually, he relented. And here they were. Bertram, Sylvia, Stephen, Stephanie.

“It’s your big day, Stephen. You’re moving abroad.”

“I guess I am, yeah.”

“How’re you feeling, Champ?”

“Nervous.”

“Yeah. It’s natural. Chin up, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Love ya.”

“Love ya too, pops.”

“Don’t forget to call. And to wrap up. And to not strain yourself too much. It’s cold there, drink more water or your lips will crack. Don’t play too many computer games. Don’t eat too many heaty things…”

“Mom, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, my son’s living away from me for the first time. How could I not?”

“Steph’s lived away from home,” Stephen said, clearly uncomfortable at the attention he was getting compared to his sister; who was hanging around at the back of the pack, looking away uninterestedly, tapping away at her phone.

“Oh, but at least Steph’s still in Tumbra.”

“Mom.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They hugged. Eventually Stephen extricated himself from his mom’s hug; and walked over to Stephanie.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she said in her deeper voice. “So, you’re leaving, huh?”

“Yeah. I suppose I am.”

“You’ll get used to it. And I suppose I’ll get used to not having you around the house.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

She smirked. “Who said it wasn’t?”

“Steph, I —”

“Shh...listen. You’re going overseas. You’re going to experience a LOT of freedom. A lot of things are going to be available to you. Use it. Do what you want, don’t get in trouble, don’t get arrested. Work hard — though I’ll be fucked if I know what a footballer does — but also play hard. Have fun. You’re only young once.”

“Thanks.”

“And if you don’t come back to Tumbra with a girlfriend, my suspicions might be correct. Only joking. Only joking.”

“Thanks,” Stephen said in a half sarcastic tone.

“You’re not too bad, I guess.”

“You’re not half bad either.”

The two shared a moment. “Don’t forget us.”

“I won’t.”

“Alright. Go, dork, catch that flight.”

He turned back with his carry-on luggage behind him, and while looking at his family still waving goodbye to him, slowly getting smaller as he walked further and further into the departures lounge.

---

The Flight

Once again, Tumbra grew smaller beneath him; the plane carried on until it was above the clouds once more. He was on the move, again.

Fear, apprehension, wariness, all greeted him. Moving to a new place brought many things; particularly somewhere where he was expected to perform. Chromatik had assured he’d be given plenty of time to settle in; but it was still a very short runway.

Then he remembered Trudy, and her confidence; and soon he remembered everything was going to be just fine. They had each other to rely on, after all; as friends.

Nothing more, nothing less. Just friends.

And that calmed him as the inky black sky and dark grey clouds enveloped his home behind, the plane steadily climbing to bring him to new adventures. A new frontier.

---

@FrancescoRaviolo Stephen Kerr to Chromatik, ON THE WAY! Full fee 3.5 million. Stephen has accepted Chromatik’s contract offer of six years, agreement reached! ⚫⚪ #CFC #Chromatik #Transfers

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 4, part 1
chromia, once more

Chromia

Stephen Kerr fell gratefully into his bed, his body sinking into the sheets with an audible thomp as he closed his eyes — just for a while — enjoying the comfort of the silk sheets. Then he opened his eyes again, staring at the roof of his $2000-a-month apartment; and turned over to his side, grabbing his phone. What time was it, anyway? Christ.

00:08
Thursday, Aug 22

Little past midnight. But it was the date that had gotten him. August 22. He’d bid farewell to Tumbra two months ago; it’d been two months since he’d signed for Chromatik Football Club, who’d forked out three and a half million dollars for his services.

Sure didn’t feel like it had been two months. Then again, life had been a whirlwind since his flight touched down in Chromia. The signing, press conferences, training session after training session as he steadily got used to Jannick Kontiola’s tactical style; the way they played was a distinctly different formation from Straton’s old 4-1-4-1, even if they lined up nearly the same way.

But adjusting to life in Chromia itself hadn’t been as difficult as he thought. He had been here before, of course; so that helped - it wasn’t as if he was suddenly being thrown into another, entirely unknown country. Being able to find a house near the city centre helped, as well, even if the rent was relatively expensive; but he wanted his privacy. Since then, he’d been alone; the landlord knew enough about him to not bother Stephen. It was a roomy, airy apartment; with all the trappings of modern life. Two bedrooms, for some reason. No matter; more space was always good. But it was also a bit lonely; he’d held off on inviting anyone over until he’d properly figured out whether the house was in any state to have people over.

There was Trudy, too; she’d helped him a lot with settling in, and now Stephen really got a chance to see how she’d grown as a player and a person.

She’d changed. A lot. Not only was she more mature on the ball, but she’d also grown into becoming a bit of a midfield general by herself; combining her endless stamina, pace and tackling with an uncanny ability to see where the ball was headed, making interceptions and calls all by herself. She’d grown to rely on the other two midfielders in the team to start attacks —Nguyen Cixin and Micha Burkhard — taking some pressure off herself to be creative as well.

He’d met Ami, too, Trudy’s best friend in Chromia; the Chromatik-Banijan seemed to be extremely shy when meeting him for the first time over lunch. It was, as first meetings typically went, rather awkward; though Stephen got the impression that Ami was a quiet young lady with a wonderful smile. She had been nice to him, too; but he noticed Trudy staring daggers at Ami while the latter laughed when he’d gone to pick up his food.

And she’d flourished with less on her plate. With Tumbra, she was forced to be a proper leader; with Chromatik, she fit in seamlessly with a team that was looking to go up against Wirr Tsi for the title. Though their league campaign hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts, of course; while Wirr Tsi had won all six of their games, Chromatik...had crumpled to Felswyr. And Lanar. And the Shock, of course. Who was the one that decided that the two strongest teams in Chromatika would play each other on day 1?

But above all, Stephen had been growing restless. He hadn’t played a single minute of league football since he’d stepped onto Chromatik soil; every time Kontiola made a defensive substitution, it had always been for Kattie, the experienced, smart defender who’d semi-officially taken Stephen under her wing. He was disappointed, of course, not to have started; but then again, there hadn’t been any low-stakes matches for him to start or at least come on in. And, of course, by the time he’d arrived, Stephen had missed pre-season - so no chance to stretch his legs there.

Time for bed, then; it was already midnight, after all. Then the familiar vibration went off; he’d gotten a message.

Truth be told, Stephen had become rather sick of his phone; the stress it’d caused him during his transfer saga hadn’t really helped, either. Wearily, he picked up his phone; but it was Trudy.

Trudy
Online now

---

still awake?
yeah.
wyd lol
just in bed, nth much tbh. you?
same lol. saw you online, was wondering why you hadn’t slept yet
couldn’t sleep lol
awww. what’s wrong?
wait what
since when did me being up at midnight mean there’s something wrong lol
you’re always asleep at midnight. something about an athlete’s body being a temple. lol. back when we used to videocall you always said bye at 11.30pm because you needed half an hour to stretch/wash up/whatever the fuck it was you needed to do before you went to bed
you remember that?
yeah.
so. what’s up. you can tell me.
it’s dumb tbh
probably not as dumb as you. cmon.
been thinking that it’s been two months since i arrived in chromatika, but i haven’t played a single minute…
lol. it’s like that with jannick. he always takes his time. you’ll get your chance, don’t worry.
really?
you’re chromatik’s golden kid, boyo. forget what they say about cande, lmao. he was a known quantity. you? an unknown. they wouldn’t have spent three million on you if you weren’t good. i guess...just give it time? you’ll have to come on eventually, kamil and cameron can’t play forever.
i get that
don’t get it wrong, i genuinely wanna play with you
just gotta be patient
anw how’s that swanky new house of yours
can i come over soon lol
now what led to that?
you barely showed me your house. lol
yeah, it was in a mess lol. no shape or form to show anyone.
it’s been a month.
yeah, but i’m still...trying...to make things look nice…
do i look like i give a shit lol. it’s been ages since we hung out by ourselves. we’re both busy. you stay in chromia. i stay with the club.
ever plan on moving out?
don’t rly have the money for it, tbh. maybe when i sign another contract. but it’s nice here. it’s just a room, but there are people here. all...all busy. i like it like that.
huh.
cmon. we can order food in. watch a movie.
i was thinking i could cook, tbh
YOU CAN COOK???
...yeah?
THAT’S RLY COOL lmao why am i typing in all caps
mom taught me when i was younger! taught me and my sis a lot of her recipes
that’s cool. rly is. when if you get a girlfriend you won’t need her to be ur surrogate mom lol
smack the patriarchy and all that
it’s...a life skill, i guess. never really thought about it that way.
cook for me. i’ll be the judge of ur cooking
sure lol
can u not cook?
i’m a disaster in the kitchen
lol i’ll see if i can teach you some stuff
so if you ever live by yourself you’ll be able to cook
super cool
aight i’ll let you treat your body like a temple or whatever it is
go sleep, dork
and don’t worry about your debut. it’s coming.
lol k
you too
gn

Stephen didn’t think much of the conversation — it was just small talk, after all — but a warm feeling did wash over him as he slowly drifted off to bed.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 4, part 2
double debuts

Chromatika
Capitalizt Dome

A warm afternoon (by Chromatik standards) saw a capacity crowd at the Capitalizt Dome. Chromatik versus Lhor; the Capitalizt versus the Orcas. This game could easily go either way; Lhor were not above spending to get success, and their midfield maestro Gereh Kama was easily pulling the strings out there. Only Cameron Win, Chromatik’s starting defender, and Trudy were keeping him at bay; though it was obvious that Kama was dominating the midfield. Stephen Kerr? On the bench, looking on with a mixture of excitement and intensity. Being on the bench wasn’t ideal, of course, but it was still the best seat in the house.

Nearly half an hour had gone; Cande Montalban, Chromatik’s new starting striker, had launched a ball past Freida Pearce; and they were ahead. But they were on the cusp of losing control; Kama had already broken through a few times, and he was looking dangerous with Orianne Marc on the right wing.

Cameron motioned at Trudy; motioned in the general direction of Kama, and himself pointed at Marc. Trudy nodded, perhaps a tad nervously; she obviously wasn’t used to going face-to-face against one of Banija’s biggest stars. Gereh Kama, though, was of a similar stature to Trudy, and she’d need to put in a worldie of a performance to ensure he wasn’t too involved in play.

“What’s Cameron doing? Stephen, do you think he’ll leave Trudy exposed?” came the inquisitive voice from next to him. It was Kattie Will, Stephen’s team-mate and effectively his mentor; though it wasn’t official or anything. The 32 year-old had simply seen the boy walk into training one day, and somehow, at that exact moment, decided to take him under her wing. No questions asked. She’d become a wealth of experience, although she was still extremely young herself; though in footballing terms she’d grown a bit long in the tooth. He wasn’t sure if she was framing her question as a genuine query on what Cameron was doing, or whether she wished to test Stephen on Chromatik’s style of play.

“Marc’s dangerous. I think Cam wants to close him down…but that leaves Gereh to do what he pleases. We-well, there’s still Trudy, of course.”

“Hm. Do you think Trudy can keep Gereh at bay?”

“I think she certainly can. Gereh’s nimble, aggressive, volatile…” Stephen racked off the qualities Jannick had mentioned when going through the tactical briefing. “...but he’s not physically the strongest. Trudy - well, she works best when she’s alone, I think. Part of why Gereh’s been so dangerous is because she’s not been allowed to screen him freely. Because she’s got to share that responsibility with Cameron. Kamil’s isolated Emdelbia, which means that Killion’s got nobody feeding balls to him for him to cut in.”

“Interesting observation. I think it’s got merit, for sure. Especially the part about Trudy working better on her own.” She turned to Stephen, smiling. “Is she like that off the pitch, too?”

Stephen was taken aback by the sudden launch into their personal lives. “I-I guess. I mean, you’ve been her team-mate for a year, I think you’d be a better grasp of her than I am —”

“Don’t be silly, Stephen, you’ve known her for longer than any of us have.”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s not...really one to show vulnerability. But thankfully she’s got the skills to, y’know, do it alone.”

The ball went flying to Kama’s feet; he skillfully began a dribble to try and look for Minsk Killion, since Dani Emdelbia, Lhor’s striker, was being marked out of the game. He looked frustrated; they’d drawn their previous game against Knetyohai, and the team hadn’t gelled together as quickly as he’d hoped. Twenty-five million from Kitara AA, the reigning Champions League winners, was his price; and he knew the eyes of the world were on him.

He, however, failed to notice a blur of grey coming up to try and dispossess him; and while he tried to keep control of the ball, he was muscled off it. The transition then began immediately; and Chromatik began advancing once more.

“Seems like you’re right. She does work better alone.”

“Hm…”

“And I must say, I thought Leysa would be a huge loss for the team — but she’s grown into her shoes magnificently. I think she’s not far off a full call-up for the senior team, actually. And you won’t be, too, given some time.”

“Really?”

“You’ve improved leaps and bounds since you arrived here. Not sure what Straton’s defending is like, but…”

“Yeah, it wasn’t the best,” Stephen said sheepishly. “Our two starting defenders don’t really work well together…”

“That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Yep.”

Another dispossession; this time by Maxime Tennant on Mario Kogler. The Orcas raced up the wing, crossing wings, the ball ending up with Orianne Marc; on instinct, when he received the ball, he began running up the wing, ignoring the incoming Cameron —

They both went down as if they’d been shot; and while Marc got up almost instantly, Win continued on the floor. With a look of harried shock, Marc urgently waved to stop play and motioned for medics. The whistle was blown; the Chromatik medical team, clad in grey tracksuits, raced onto the pitch.

“Reckon he’s alright?”

“Maybe.”

The medics arrived at Cameron, and immediately began working; though it became obvious this would not be a short procedure. After a few minutes, however, Jannick looked increasingly concerned, and muttered to the fourth official about making a substitution.

“Kattie, I’d get prepared if I were you.”

“No, Stephen, I think you should be the one getting prepared,” she said with a smirk, directing Stephen’s attention to Jannick, who was motioning frantically at Stephen to begin his warm-up.

“Oh, shit, I —”

“Listen, Stephen, I know you don’t feel ready.”

“I don’t, y-yeah —”

“Remember what I’ve taught you in training, and you’ll be fine. Listen to Jannick, listen to Kamil, listen to Trudy. They’ll help you on the pitch.”

“I-am I-you really think-”

“Yes, you’re ready. Don’t think so much about it. Do your warm-up, quickly, before this turns into the last time you play for Chromatik.”

Stephen went through the motions, urgently trying to push the thought that he was trying to make his debut for his new club to the back of his mind. He’d literally been talking to Trudy a few days ago about this; now the opportunity had been foisted upon him.

With his warm-up complete, Stephen looked toward Jannick for approval, and he warmly nodded. Confirming his substitution, Cameron had gotten up; and was now, with the support of the medics, hobbling toward the Chromatik bench, to a wave of applause from the gathered home fans. Jannick motioned Stephen closer.

“Stephen, Stephen, Stephen,” he said, while rubbing his hands together before placing them on Stephen’s shoulders. “It’s time. Are you nervous?”

“Yes, Sir, I am.” Stephen had no idea why he’d called Jannick Sir; typically he called the manager “Coach” or “Boss”.

“I know you are. But I know that you’ll give me your best. You’ve spent the last two months on the bench, training very hard; and I’ve noticed that. I know you’re going to do very well out there. Kamil will help; but most of all, don’t worry.”

Stephen smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Atta boy.” Jannick tapped Stephen hard, on both shoulders; and gave him a squeeze, for good measure. The moment Cameron stepped off the pitch, smiling weakly at Stephen, Jannick patted Stephen on the back, and said “Go!”

He barely had time to smile back at Cameron before he was running, filling in for Cameron. Applause emanated from throughout the Capitalizt Dome for their new player, one whose story had been oh-so-intriguing; now he was finally making his debut.

Stephen paused when he reached Kamil, exchanging some words; Kamil patted him on the shoulder, encouraged him not to worry. For some reason, the Mytanar’s words put him at ease; he was now at home. It was a hundred and five metres by sixty-eight of green turf with white lines; seven thousand, one hundred and forty square metres of grass. The surrounding atmosphere might have been different, but Straton played in a stadium of a hundred thousand, anyway; the Capitalizt Dome was little different.

He smiled, as Trudy caught his eye and grinned, ready for the restart of play.

---

Capitalizt Dome
Chromatik Team Room

The squad was in a celebratory mood; Cande had added to his early goal with a late strike, after Kama had finally equalised with a ricocheting shot that nobody really could stop; but Chromatik’s defence had held firm, and they’d come away with a win.

Stephen was happy, but first of all, tired; chasing down Lhor’s attacking trio had been harder than it looked. He’d exchanged words with Orianne Marc at full-time, and Marc had praised the young defender; Kerr had tackled Marc several times throughout the match, once while Marc was on goal.

In essence, then, today was the defence’s win; and Stephen had received plenty of noogies after, as the team celebrated both his debut and the immense performance that he’d put in. He was, after all, the third youngest player on the team; and was treated as such by the rest of them. It was a happy occasion; coupled with the fact that the result was a win against a side that would be competing against them for Champions’ League football, it was a genuinely good day for the side.

Trudy, for her part, refrained from giving Stephen a noogie; but they caught each other’s eyes and knew they had to talk after the game. Stephen, in any case, wanted to ask Trudy to come over for dinner and the movie. Just like she’d asked him to do, really.

Slowly but surely, the team filed out of the room as they prepared to head back to the team’s headquarters; Trudy came up to Stephen, the room darkened.

“You wanted to talk?”

“How’d you know?”

“You get a look in your eye when you want to do that.”

“Huh. Never noticed that.”

“You can’t see your own eyes, idiot.”

“Really?”

“Uh. Not really sure if you’re asking whether you can’t see your own eyes, or —”

“Pffft. Forget it.”

“So what’s up?”

“Was thinking if you wanted to come round today. For that dinner you wanted. And the movie. To celebrate.”

“You’re cooking?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to cook, too.”

“Uh…sure.”

“You look...worried.”

“I did say I’m not very good in the kitchen.”

“I’ll be there. There’ll be nothing to worry about.”

Trudy looked down for a moment, then looked back into Stephen’s eyes. They weren’t as close together physically as that night on the bench in Chromatik, but Stephen could still sense the uncertainty in her light blue eyes. Her trademark small grin, with the right side of her lip curling upwards while the rest of her lip remained flat, appeared.

“Sure.”

“That’s settled, then. We should go, before the team wonders where we are.”

“Yeah.” Trudy ventured back to her seat in the team room. “Oh. Congrats on your debut. Told you it’d only be a while,” she said, while beaming.

---

Chromia
The Apartment of Stephen Kerr
8:15pm

“You know, I’m not sure why cooking’s so popular, especially — when there’s just — so — bloody — much — to carry — Christ!”

“It’s worth it, Trudy, trust me,” said Stephen, as he opened the door to the apartment. “It’ll be some delicious food.” His calm steps, carrying a paper bag of groceries, was followed (and contrasted) by Trudy, who was exaggeratedly staggering underneath another big bag of groceries.

“Told you you should have put them in two bags.”, he said, laughing.

“How was I supposed to know this was supposed to go in two bags? Not my bloody fault the handle decided to snap —”

“Oh, you. C’mere, I’ll unpack.”

Trudy handed over the bag, wiped the sweat off her brow, and looked for the nearest sofa.

“You’ve got to prepare everything, you’ve got to deal with the fire, then you’ve got to clean — ugh, the cleaning’s the worst part —”

“You won’t need to clean anything today, Trudy, you’re my guest and I’m going to do the cleaning. All you need to do is to listen to what I say and you’ll be fine.”

“Sure hope so.” She cast a glance around the room. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.”

“So. What are we cooking?”

“Hm...rice. Fish. Tofu. Broccoli. Scallops. I’ll be honest, really — this will be the first time I use this kitchen to cook. A fitting stage, really, for your cooking debut.” A mischievous grin appeared on Stephen’s face.

“That’s a lot of food for the two of us.”

“Not really! I’ll keep the leftovers for breakfast tomorrow. And with you around it’ll be faster.” He grabbed a spatula from a nearby drawer. "Ready to learn how to cook, my student?" Stephen motioned exaggeratedly, mimicking one of the many famous celebrity chefs of the universe.

“O Stephen Kerr, master of the kitchen, please teach me how you cook,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“With pleasure.”

---

Stephen was right; it had been relatively smooth-sailing with regards to the cooking so far. The rice had simply been washed, and put inside a cooker; the broccoli had been grilled to perfection; now all that was left was the fish.

“Okay, you got enough oil on there?”

“I-I think so, yep.”

“Now the key to frying fish is knowing when to turn it over. You wanna listen to the crackle of it, move the fish around —” Stephen looked over Trudy’s left shoulder, glancing carefully at the fish in the pan; but he noticed that Trudy herself was gripping on to the pan with quite a bit of apprehension. “— but flip it, with a tong…”

“Flip it?”

“Yeah.”

“Stephen, I’m not sure if I can — uh —”

“No worries, I’ll flip it for you.” Her shoulders were noticeably tensed up; Stephen put one of his hands on her right shoulder, and she noticeably relaxed. “Right...there. Right, keep doing that.” He turned away, to grab a pair of tongs to flip the fish; but the instant he turned away, a shrill yelp emerged from behind him.

Immediately, he turned, to see Trudy grasping onto the pan still, with a huge column of orange flames bursting out of it; even from a few steps away, Stephen could feel the blaze radiate, the heat landing uncomfortably on his skin. Trudy let go of the pan, almost throwing it onto the grate, and stumbled backwards. She let out another yelp as she lost her balance and fell backwards; but the important thing was the fire, he had to put a lid on it —

It was grabbed, and Stephen, in one motion, clanged the steel lid onto the on-fire pan, and turned off the gas. Immediately the fire went out; but he barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief before he turned to Trudy, who looked positively shell shocked, and was sitting on the floor, left knee curled up to her face, right leg extended out.

“Trudy…” Stephen said, in a gentle voice, sitting down next to her.

“I’m sorry, Stephen,” she said in a small voice.

“Hey. Nothing to apologise for.”

“I ruined your fish.”

“You haven’t. I’ll be able to finish it. You’ve been great. Why...why don’t you go take a rest? I’ll pick things up from here. You can choose the movie we’re gonna watch. I’ve got RainboWire, they’ve got a lot more things in Chromatika than they do back home.”

“Sorry…”

“Hey,” he said in a deep, almost intimate tone. “You didn’t do anything wrong. C’mon. I’ll bring you to the sofa.”

She sat there for a few more seconds, then relented. Stephen would finish the cooking by himself as Trudy flicked through movies on RainboWire; she’d settled on one as the night lights of Chromia grew ever brighter.

They ate in silence; Stephen had managed to salvage the fish, and he’d added a bit of ginger to make the fish taste a bit better.

“You did great, y'know. In the kitchen.”

“Don’t patronise me, Stephen…”

“For someone who said they were ‘a disaster in the kitchen’ you did pretty well.”

“But the fire…”

“Grease fires are something we deal with from time to time. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right…”

Stephen motioned at the dishes on the table. Grilled broccoli with chilies, tofu with a healthy sprinkling of sesame sauce to give it flavour, fried fish that was a bit blackened, stir-fried scallops…

“Which of these was your favourite?”

“The scallops,” Trudy said without missing a beat.

“Hah! Knew it. No hesitation, too.”

“Something special about it?”

“Yeah, it’s my mom’s recipe.”

“She really taught you this?”

“Yeah. Had to bug her for a bit, but...before I left she taught this to me. I’m happy you liked it. It’s one of my personal favourite recipes, too; a bit of Tumbra, a bit of Xinhua…” He smiled. “I’ll have to tell her that you liked it.”

“You’d tell her that?”

“Yeah. She’s always convinced her recipes are too niche for anyone else to eat.”

They ate in relative silence after that — Stephen cleared all the leftovers into Tupperware to eat tomorrow and put it into the fridge, while leaving the dishes in the sink.

“A good meal, if I say so myself.”

“You did cook it.”

“Well, yes, but I had a capable assistant by my side. Anyway, we decided what we’re watching?”

“How The Wind Blows.”

“Classic.”

“Yeah.”

Stephen got up, and walked over to Trudy on the opposite side of the table.

“Well then, let’s go,” he said, extending an arm out to her and motioning to the sofa less than five minutes away.

“This isn’t some formal ball, Stephen, cut it out,” she said, but there was a giant smile on her face. The two of them looked into each other’s eyes, sharing a moment.

“Might as well be. And it is my home.”

She exhaled. “Fine, fine. Have it your way, dork,” trying her best not to laugh.

She got up, taking the proffered hand; and together they walked toward the sofa.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 4, part 3
f e e l i n g s

ami <3
Online now

---

so...how was it?
it went fine, like
what did you expect to happen
trudy…
wot
tell. me. everything.
we cooked
and we ate dinner
and then we watched a movie
cute!
no it’s not cute ami what is wrong with you
no
you’re right
that’s not enough tell me more
was his house big?
yeah his house was nice. 2000 a month is a steal
damn
how many bedrooms does his place have
how is that relevant
just curious!
...2
oooooooooh
what
he has two rooms and he’s only using one
so?
:wink:
dear god ami nO WHAT THE FUCK
it’s a romantic date at his place
it’s not romantic
but it’s a date
a friend date. sure. you win, ami
not denying it was a date, hmmmmmmmm?
yeah. friend date.
…
you’ll never get it, will you?
never get what?
Ami is typing…

Trudy Harrison walked, slightly groggily, towards the subway stop nearest to Stephen’s place, where she’d hopefully be able to catch the last train home. She’d somehow managed to choose a movie that was a classic, sure, but she didn’t realise that “classic” meant “boring”. About halfway through the movie she found herself drooping off; and the next thing she knew the movie had ended; Stephen was gently nudging her awake, telling her it was late and that she should head back to Chromatik. She took one look at the clock — 11pm! — and quickly gathered her stuff, saying goodbye to Stephen, before hurriedly rushing out the door.

Did I fall asleep on him? God, that’d be so fucking embarrassing.

He hadn’t said anything about her falling asleep; when she was being nudged awake, she was lying on the sofa, supported by a few cushions and with a duvet draped over her. The last thing she remembered, though, was Stephen’s bony shoulder, and the perfume he was wearing...

Sure, Stephen was nice — and in a country where almost everything was so foreign, he was a nice rock of support. Always there for her, ready to chat whenever she wanted. And she, as far as possible, tried to be there for him. They were there for the long haul; Jannick Kontiola’s project to eventually wrest control of the league away from Wirr Tsi involved both of them, Cande, Cixin…

And they were but two Tumbrans, brought together by fate, in a foreign land. It read like one of those pulp fiction-type stories; two people meet each other in a similar place, and fall…

No.

They both had a career to focus on; they couldn’t risk their careers being jeopardised by stupid concepts like “love”. She could find it after she retired, at the age of 35 or 36; but by then, would it be too late for her?

---

The dishes were always Stephen Kerr's least favourite part of the meal. Sure, the food was nice, but food tended to stain dishes, and that often required cleaning. It was menial, but at least it offered him time to think about the events of the night that had just happened.

Yes, there had been the fish, and the dinner, but that really paled in comparison to the movie that happened after. In the midst of How The Wind Blows — a feel-good flick about a girl with cancer — she’d fallen asleep.

On him.

At first he thought she was just trying to get warm and cozy; but it was unusually physical from someone like Trudy. It was only after her head drooped from his shoulder onto his chest that he realised she’d fallen asleep — and then he’d just accepted that he’d have to sit the way he was through the entire movie. Was it uncomfortable? Sure, having her head on him was kind of uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to wake her up.

After the movie ended, he tried gingerly to move out of his position, while letting her rest; and he’d achieved it by substituting his chest for two cushions. But even then, he couldn’t let her rest for more than ten minutes; after all, it was getting very late. He did want to let her rest — goodness knew she deserved one every once in a while.

Being Chromatik’s main defensive midfielder, running an average of fourteen kilometres a match, tended to make her tired. And he knew that even though she tried to put up her usual, genial, energetic personality everywhere she went, he knew she had a battery too. And like all batteries, they tended to run out at some point. Trudy seemed to allow her battery to run out and recharge in his presence; whenever the two were alone, she was always more reserved, more quiet.

But he knew that was truly who she was; vulnerable, young, being thrust into a world she probably never envisioned she’d find herself in the midst of. She didn’t like being vulnerable, but with him she allowed that side of herself to emerge. He appreciated it; it meant that she trusted him. He didn’t know if she did that with anyone else on the team; but she seemed markedly happier when Stephen arrived at the club.

How lonely had she been?

Washing the soap off his hands, Stephen switched on his phone, then stared wistfully at the chat background of the Carrier messaging app. It was a picture of the two of them in Lhor, merely a few months ago. She changed her hairstyle often — right now she’d dyed her hair a light auburn and was growing it out, while in the picture it was jet black, and it fell neatly to her shoulders.

He found himself grinning as he looked at the pictures of the two of them in the different parts of Chromatika. Maybe one day they’d go to Felswyr, on a ski holiday there. If anything, that was part of the plan, Trudy had told him, before his entire career (and his holiday) nearly crumbled before his eyes. Regardless, whether or not her hairstyle was different, Stephen still found himself looking at her light blue eyes, striking as they were, and remarking at how...pretty she was.

No. She’s just your friend, Stephen. Don’t even think about catching feelings for her.

Were they even feelings? As far as he’d known, a romantic relationship hadn’t been something that had ever crossed his mind. At most, he’d just admired girls in his school from afar; though his last education was at sixteen. It’d been a long, long time since he’d properly fallen for anyone; though whether schoolyard crushes brought on by proximity and frequency counted as actually falling for anyone was debatable.

With her...he felt somewhat different. But he couldn’t let her distract him. He put down his phone, and picked up the next bowl; he had to focus! Focus on the dishes. Focus on becoming the best defender in the —

---

Match Day 9, Chromatik Red League
Chromatik vs. Omnio

“It’s a tough break for Stephen Kerr, Duran; completely, utterly dominated by his fellow countryman today.”
“Indeed, Marcus. Today was just Nigel Erskine’s day; the lethal striker has got three of the best, and made Chromatik pay; and pay they have, and paid hard. Omnio was meant to be an easy three points for the Capitalizt; instead he pulled another blinder of a performance out his bag, as he’s done so often. If Omnio stays up they’ll be eternally in his debt; if they go down he’ll be able to go for a king’s ransom.”
“And it’s all over; the ref blows his whistle; Omnio can’t say they haven’t deserved this; Chromatik can’t say they should have won this.”
"Brilliant result for Omnio; one that'll bring them closer to security. We'll be heading off for a break; but we'll be right back for more coverage of the Red League, here on CSN. I'm Duran Carson-Lavette..."


Stephen Kerr flopped onto the pitch of the Capitalizt Dome, hands behind him, staring up into the night sky; the floodlights surrounding Chromatika’s national stadium threatened to blind, but he stared out of the roof of the stadium regardless. The cheers of the still-positive crowd echoed; but he knew he’d fucked up.

Slowly, he forced his heart to calm down. Why hadn’t Jannick substituted him after the second Erskine goal, where he’d stretched out his leg just a tad too far, sending the ball right into Erskine’s path? Or the third, where he’d fallen over while trying to chase Erskine, allowing him an unobstructed shot on goal?

Dun Mekeus walked over to Stephen, knelt down and patted the young defender on his shoulders, before walking off. No words. Stephen closed his eyes, trying to drown out the sense of disappointment that was enveloping him; but was snapped out of his reverie by a familiar accent.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Stephen’s eyes opened, to see a man with powerful thighs and a kindly smile on his face donning a red-and-yellow shirt, holding a football in his hand. It was the man who’d run rings around him all game; the man who’d up and left for Chromatika before either Stephen or Trudy; the man who was now carrying the entirety of Omnio’s hopes on his back.

Nigel Erskine.

“Mind if I have a seat?” he said, reacting to Stephen's silence.

“It’s a free society.”

“Not till twenty years ago, it wasn’t.” Erskine heaved himself onto the grass pitch, next to Stephen, and looked at the imposing architecture of the Dome. The ball landed on the grass next to him with a pleasing thunk. “The Revolution was big news when I was a kid. Scenes of fighting on the late night news burned themselves into my young eyes. Amazing how far this country’s come, really; but enough about that.”

“Sure.”

“How’d you feel like you played today?”

“Shite. Mainly because of you, really. But I deserved it.”

“Mmmm. I don’t know. I enjoyed going up against you. You bring...energy. Pace. Power to the role.” Nigel grinned, turning towards Stephen. For a striker, he was fairly understated; he’d grown his hair out since leaving Tumbra, allowing for his curls to truly shine. Even then, however, Stephen got the impression that he kept strict control over his life; his arms, around his knees, showed how toned the 26 year-old was.

“Mr. Erskine, please —”

“Call me Nigel. And no, I mean it. You might have made a few mistakes today, but we all fuck up once in a while. We’re all allowed bad games, no matter what anyone else says. Sometimes things just don’t click, and that’s okay.”

“You’ve been on fire forever.”

“Not at Clyde. Why d’you think I decided to leave?”

“Because they brought in Kwak Hyeong-Joon.”

“Exactly. They brought Hyeong-Joon in because I wasn’t scoring. Near the tail end of the season my form dropped off like a brick; and then Devzies realised he had to bring in someone new if he wanted to continue challenging for top 6. Brought in Laishram, brought in Kwak; and I knew my time was up.”

“But…”

“Mm-hm. So don’t take one bad match as an indicator of form. You have got what it takes, Stephen; it’s only a pity you came up against me,” Nigel chuckled. “I kid. But keep your recent performances up, and who knows? You’ll be able to join me on the pitch, wearing black, maybe.”

“A senior call-up?”

“Well, people have been clamouring for you to be on the pitch ever since you won the DBC. You and Trudy,” Nigel said, looking towards the midfielder, hanging around on the touchline. “Whole country seems to think you two are the next big thing. I don’t think they’re wrong. And my sources tell me Yuan’s not too far away from giving you the call-up, either.”

“Really…?”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you about this, to be honest. You’re not that far away from a call-up. Don’t let me making you look bad today change that. I’d love to play with ya one day, kiddo. Maybe one day we’ll even make it to the World Cup.”

“Maybe.”

“Something tells me we’re going to be on the same pitch when we finally make it, Stephen. I believe it. It was great facing off against you today — hopefully we’ll be able to duel against each other like this next time we meet.” Nigel slapped his thighs, and got up, taking the ball with him.

“The same to you, Nigel.”

“Message me on twii.tur or Instagram after this. I’ll pass you my number; we can keep in contact then.”

“Sure.”

Nigel walked off, confidently, towards the tunnel; shortly after that, Stephen stood up, brushed himself off, and began walking to the debrief, as well. Trudy noticed, and lightly punched him in the arm, as if admonishing him for being late. Stephen relayed what Nigel had told him; and both of them merely stood in silence for a bit as they properly took it in.

Then they walked down the tunnel together.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 4, part 4
static

idiot
Online now

---

did you remember to sign up for the community outreach thing?
uhhhh
cmon
did you
uhhhhhhh
you didn’t.
i forgot...
...you really didn’t.
would there have been consequences if i didn’t
yeah
ah fuck
uh
are signups closed
yes.
fuckfuckfuck
you’re lucky i knew this would happen
you did?
yeah. yeah, i did
so, stephen kerr
you’re coming with me to teach kids how to play football
but i barely know how to play football
fuck off lol
really it’s more of a kickabout
like
it’s for the kids, the ROYGs, yknow?
oh! oh.
it’s on friday.
yeah, sure
you’re a lifesaver, trudy
lol
you’re welcome

Dre’a

It was a rather different part of the city; in fact it wasn’t really Chromia at all. The buildings looked rather more worn down; they were older compared to the sleek architecture and shining city on top of a hill that was Chromia. Left behind? Perhaps. Stephen had heard murmurs of there being political change at the top — something about a new light — but hadn’t paid much heed to it.

It turned out that this was a rather popular activity to do; and the bus that was carrying the players and the coaches turned out to have more than just Chromatik footballers. Representatives from all three Chromia clubs were here; about ten players along with coaches from their clubs.

Nor had he really paid much attention in social studies class when they’d dissected the Chromatik Rainbow Revolution. That, he thought, was for the swots of the class to do well; he’d rather focus on easier things, like maths or chemistry. Somehow those two always fell into place for him; and it was always going to be his backup plan if the football hadn’t panned out.

He guiltily scrolled through the relatively long Online Encyclopedia article; reading about the class segregations of the old Chromatik Party regime, the Institutional Division, and all of the other various atrocities committed by them. Maybe he should have paid attention during social studies class.

“Reading up on the old Chromatik Party?” came a voice from behind him.

Stephen turned around to find Kattie Will glancing at his phone screen, her head popping over the seat.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Hmmm. There’s only so much the encyclopedia can tell you, let’s be honest. How ‘bout I tell you more?"

“Sure.”

“So, where we’re heading — where we just reached, actually, Dre’a — it’s one of the less privileged places in Chromatika. Where the party used to house the labourers. The Reds.”

“It’s been twenty years. Surely there’s got to have been some kind of change by now? I mean…”

“Look for yourself, Stephen...sometimes change takes more than a revolution and a generation. There have been people who’ve made it as Reds — hell, just look at Enigma Armageddon, the national team captain. Born a Red. But his success story masks just how many other Reds are...still stuck here. People like to think of Chromatika as someplace that’s shed the shackles of its past, left it behind, and is now slowly marching on the road of progress, freedom, and towards the future. But sometimes I look at places like this and suddenly I’m not so sure.”

“Darn.”

“The CFF likes these kinds of things. You know, about how football brings hope, passion to everyone in Chromatika. That’s why they’ve roped all three Chromia clubs in. You know, sometimes I think we put club identity above all other things a bit too much…”

The team bus had dropped the relatively big contingent off near a community centre; this was something, at least, that looked relatively new; perhaps it was the brighter lights, or the style of architecture that stood out. Stephen walked besides Ami and Trudy, who were animatedly chatting about the kids they were working with.

“So...teaching them to play football?”

“Yeah! It’s a great way to give back to the community. Football’s a unifying activity for everyone here, because all you need is a ball. You don’t need hockey sticks, or a giant field, or a net high in the sky. Easy to pick up. Easy to access.”

“And they’re really good at it, too.”

“...surely you did something like this when you were with Straton, Stephen?” Trudy enquired. “I mean, when I was with Kingsbury, we used to do things like these as well. I taught young girls how to play football, even as I told them not to become a footballer.”

“Not to become a footballer, Trudy! How could you?”

“Until recently the life of girls in football was a tough one. I’d considered hanging up my boots, actually, until...y’know…” Trudy’s voice trailed off. “A-anyway, Stephen. You must have done community work with Straton?”

“I mean, yeah, we did. I mostly went with the homework help people, though. People like Dan, Leo...they were more likely to see themselves teaching people to play football.”

“Nerd."

“Hey!”

Trudy and Ami shared a giggle as they enjoyed Stephen’s look of indignation.

“Seriously, though, I think you’ll have a lot of fun. Not to mention the consequences if you hadn’t signed up for an event.”

“Y’know, maybe next time I’ll go back to homework help.”

“Tough luck, Stevie, I signed you up for the entire year.”

“I-what? Huh? I can’t —”

“Relax, you haven’t even been to the first session yet. You’re not meant to teach them how to be a Red League footballer, just...some basic skills. Although I think this batch has advanced beyond that a bit.”

“Yeah, they’re really advancing fast. I think the club was talking about offering trials to one or two of them…”

An Hour Later

The training session was in full swing; Stephen was working with the twelve to thirteen year olds, and was mainly helping them pass the ball accurately as they took shots at a smaller goal. He wasn’t doing the bulk of the teaching, thankfully; the youth coaches were the main teachers at the session, and he was just there as a training partner for them. And as a demonstration unit; though he got the feeling the kids were awe-struck by his very presence.

Reds, Oranges, Yellows, Greens...they’d long been the underclass of Chromatik society. The labourers, farmers, manufacturers, merchants. The Rainbow Revolution had given them hope of a new life; and their lot certainly had improved with the advent of democracy. But it certainly hadn’t felt like a massive improvement; even at the age of thirteen they were still considerably thinner than some kids he’d seen in Chromia. Was this what inequality looked like? Twenty years sounded like a long time — after all, it was how long he’d been alive.

Yet in each of their eyes he saw hope; to be able to forget their worries, and troubles, and to have fun on a football pitch, interacting with their heroes in real life. These smiles, they were ones of genuine happiness, radiating energy; and he fist-bumped each one of them as the coaches sent them off for a water break. He couldn’t help but smile looking at them. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, after all; he was just here, in the warm autumn air, teaching kids how to play football.

His eyes wandered across the large field where training was taking place. There was Ami, patting some kids on the back, showing her skills with the ball to the kids. Wowing them. There were other drills going on, of course. Taron Matthews with seven other kids gathered in a circle, one in the middle, trying to intercept the ball. Lina Watt with some others, teaching them proper ball control. Justiina Dannysdóttir next to some mannequins set up for the teenagers to try and dribble against, and a goal...but he was looking for one person and one person only.

There she was. She was smiling, beaming from ear to ear, a bright ray of sunshine. She’d chosen to work with the even younger kids, and was high-fiving them every time they completed a task. Even from halfway across the field he could feel her energy, her smile; and he found himself focusing on it. On...her, too. The way she flipped her hair around her shoulder. The way she knelt down to talk to one of the kids who’d fallen over. There was something about the little things she did that...was...

“Hoy.”

“GAAAH!” Stephen yelped and instinctively took two steps back from the voice, but ended up stumbling and having to take a few more steps backward to steady himself. All while he was searching for the source of the voice; but he soon located Ami, who was looking at Stephen with a curious mix of bewilderment and bemusement. She’d approached him from behind, and had conveniently sidestepped to avoid Stephen stumbling around the pitch.

“You alright then?”

“Yeah, until you decided to just come up on me like that. Jesus, Ami! At least appear in front of me, not sneak up on me from behind.” Stephen had now turned towards Ami, away from Trudy, and tried his best to smile naturally.

“You’re acting...weird.”

“No! I’m not!”

“Uh huh. What’cha lookin’ at, then?”

Act dumb!

“Nothing, really. The night sky, uhh, the field! All the happy faces.”

You fucking idiot!

Ami looked nonplussed. “You seriously think that’ll work on me?” She walked towards Stephen, and turned him round such that he was facing Trudy again.

“You were looking at her, weren’t you?” she said with a half-knowing smile on her face.

“I...guess…”

“Look at you. Your face is red.”

“Is not.”

Ami slapped Stephen on the back. “Listen, Stephen. Trudy’s an amazing human being to be around. A wonderful human being in general. If you like her —”

“As a friend, I do —”

“— you should tell her.”

“I don’t like her in that way!”

“You two.” She shook her head and crossed her arms, a small smile on her lips. “If only you knew.”

“If only I knew what? Ami, I’m not going to jeopardise our friendship b-by catching feelings for her! Which I’m not going to!”

“Why was I cursed with such dumb team-mates — Look, if you give a thought — a single one to what I’ve been saying — maybe you wouldn’t be responding to me like you are, right now. I cannot believe —”

“I still don’t see —”

“Stephen Kerr, I’m allergic to stupidity, and it’s pouring out of your ears right now, so I’m going to take my leave.” Ami shook her head, lightly punched Stephen on his arm, and walked off.

What the fuck was that?

Trudy had sent the kids off for a break, as well, and he decided to hang out with her. Grabbing a drink from a nearby icebox would be a good conversation starter, he figured, as he took two; one for himself and one for —

Why’s my heart beating so quickly? Why do I need a drink to start a conversation with her?

He stared at the two drinks in his hand, wondering why he’d picked it up. But it was too late now — Trudy had noticed him walking over; and was smiling at him. She’d sat down on a bench, and was inviting him over to sit next to her. Gingerly clutching the drinks, he smiled and sat down on Trudy’s left.
“Aw. A drink. Awfully nice of you.”

“Y-uhhhhyeah. I’ve got two flavours. Uhh...which do you want?”

“I’ll take orange, thanks,” Trudy said, reaching for the drink in Stephen’s left hand. At the same time, he reached to give the drink to her, and their hands brushed against each other; a small shock leaped from Stephen’s hand to Trudy’s, but it just made his heart leap —and he clutched onto the drink even harder as his mind suddenly went blank.

“Stephen? Uh...Stephen? You alright?”

Stephen mumbled some sounds that vaguely sounded like yes, before Trudy’s fingers gently dislodged the drink from his fist.

“Stephen?”

“YeahimfineIthink.”

“Uh-huh. Is there...something? You’ve got that look on your face.”

“Nuh-nooothere’snot...nothing, no.”

“Alright then. You do look like you need a drink, though. Should...probably...drink that…” she motioned towards the purple bottle in Stephen’s hand. He took a glance at it, before uncapping it and taking a few sips.

“Look at me, Stephen…is everything okay?”

Slowly, gingerly, he looked up at Trudy, her face showing nothing but concern. She lifted a hand to Stephen’s face, brushed his fringe back on top of his head, before putting the back of her hand onto his forehead.

Stephen stared blankly into Trudy’s eyes. She peered inquiringly into his eyes, trying to determine what exactly happened.

“Stephen…” she said in a small voice.

“I’m fine,” he replied in an equally small voice. He seemed to recover; gently, if shakily, took Trudy’s hand and plucked it from his forehead. “I think the kids are coming back.”

“You’re obviously not fine. You’ve had an anxiety attack, or something —”

“I’ll-I’ll be okay.” Stephen conjured a weak smile, and stood up. “E-enjoy the drink, I guess,” he stuttered as he walked — no, ran, off, wondering what had just happened.

No, no, no, no, no…

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 4, part 5
epistolary

Nigel (Omnio)
Online now

---

Nigel?
Hey, stephen. sup
uhhh
This may be a lil weird for me to ask off the bat but
Yeah? go ahead, man, no worries
Are you in a relationship rn?
I don’t swing that way lol, but thanks for asking
…
Nah, only joking. yeah, i’m in a relationship, have been for two or so years
So you’ve been in love before?
Considerably more times than i’ve been in relationships yeah
What...what was it like? Your first time?
Oh, stephen, it’s different for everybody. every time. it’s unique to yourself!
sure, but like…
There have to be some common things you experience, right
Like, idk
Alright alright. i’m assuming that this is your first time that you’ve felt these things you’re feeling and you’re messaging me because you’re not sure whether these feelings are love or not
also bc you asked me what my first time was like. really only seeing that now.
Ok, first i want you to know that these feelings are normal. there’s nothing wrong with you. aight
...ok?
Genuinely i’m saying this bc. the first time i fell in love i didn’t know what it felt like either. like. the first few times i said i fell in ‘love’ it was during like, high school. but this kind love feels different from true love, y’know? it mainly comes from spending time together. like, so much time together, really. don’t make that mistake. ofc im not saying that can’t be love but like
uhhh nigel i think you’re going off-topic
Right. okay.
First question
Do you like being around this person
yes
but like i can like being around them and still see them as friends
Shhhhh
Don’t interrupt
Second question
When you look at this person do you feel...nervous
yes
Ok. ok. third question. when you’re around this person. do you feel like your day has improved. like for example if you’re having a bad day and this person just shows up
it doesn’t matter how, like just a text message like rn
do you feel better
yes
Aight! last question. this is gonna be an open-ended one so i need a good response
What happened recently that made you ask me this question?
well. uh. we’ve been friends for a while now. so like a few days ago? we were at this cff thing teaching kids how to play football, you see, and during one of the breaks i decided to go have a chat with her. but i suddenly got like. nervous. like, idk why i suddenly felt that, like i’d never felt that way before
anyway, i grabbed two drinks to have a convo with her. which was also super weird. bc as i said we’ve been friends for quite a while. and like i suddenly froze when passing the drink to her...and she like...idk...i’m cringing just thinking about it
i was so dumb nigel
Ok. that’s all i need to know.
You ready to hear the results of my super in-depth and entirely scientific questioning
...sure
you sure?
Yes please
Congratulations! You Are In Love!
or at least in the beginning stages of it idk i’m not a psychiatrist
no way
no
no
Feel free to doubt my results, tbh, but i’m speaking from experience here
fuck
Stephen, Trudy’s a wonderful person, and I wouldn’t be half surprised if she’s feeling the same way as you are, right now.
why would she lol
wait
how the fuck
...i’m a footballer, but i’m not stupid, Stephen. when you asked me the question i was already half suspecting who the person was. your story just confirmed it lol. it really can’t be anyone else. unless you’re telling me you somehow picked up a chromatik girl…
fucking hell
Falling in love, Stephen, is normal. It’s part of growing up.
yeah but like we’re friends. i don’t want to ruin that by falling in love with her. what if she says no lol
how do i recover from that
it’ll be so fucking awkward
lol might as well transfer me to urheddiao at that point
Ok. Listen to me, Stephen Kerr, and yes, I’m using proper punctuation because this is a Very Important Point I want to make
Most relationships begin as good friendships. Aight. I’m not saying that all good friendships should become relationships, because they really shouldn’t. There’s also no reason why you fessing up will end your friendship, alright?
...ok
What I recommend you do now is that you...take some time. Feel it out — is it really love or is this just infatuation? You’ve just moved to a new country, you’re alone for the most part, you’re lonely, sometimes. It’s not surprising that you’d feel this way towards someone who you’re spending a lot of time with. Because you know them.
Give it a bit of time. If you’re still conflicted, feeling like this, in a bit of time
And I can’t say for sure how long, because love’s this stupid thing that nobody really has gotten their heads around
But trust me, you’ll know. One day, it’ll all clear up, and you’ll realise whether this person is who you’re truly in love with. And then all the feelings — the nervousness. anxiety. all of that, Stephen, it’ll melt away. And if you’re really in love, that’s what you’ll feel. Clarity. That’s what you’ll feel.
And that’s the most important bit.
thanks, nigel.
Anytime. Come back to me if you’re still facing problems. I’m not...qualified...to speak on this in any sense of the term, but if I can help you in any way, then I’ll try my best.

leysa
Online now

---

Trudy?
Leys
How did you — what — I hadn’t even said anything
Oh, I saw you were typing. What’s up?
I, uh, wanted to talk about...love.
Ooh. Are you in love?
No...I don’t think.
Is someone in love with you?
See, that’s the part I’m confused about
Hm. I think I know who this might be
...is it that obvious?
Yes. Yes, it is. What’re you confused about? You can tell me everything.
So
If someone likes you is it normal for them to like
Act weirdly around you or something
...what happened with Stephen?
The other day we were at the CFF thing in Dre’a, yknow, regular stuff. We had a break, he came over with some drinks then...froze. Like, completely lost. He seemed ok afterwards, so I’m not sure if it was an anxiety attack or what not. But he...didn’t want to seem to look me in the eyes. I’m not sure if something’s wrong with him or…
Or?
...or if he likes me.
Hm.
what’s that supposed to mean, leys…
Where do I begin?
You’re married, aren’t you? What was it like for you?
Yeah. Three years ago.
How’d you two meet?
You know how Chromatik’s owned by Henza Architecture? We met at a function, about five years ago. I was 23, he was 25...instantly smitten. He was an architect. Still is, actually, heh.
But we started going out soon after. It was a tad difficult, with our careers and all, but we managed to make it stick.
How did he act around you?
Nothing out of the ordinary, really! I guess he was a bit shy at first, but he’s that kind of person. There was always going to be the awkwardness when we first met, but...I think we got over that fairly fine.
It’s...a bit different from your story, I guess
wait
what story
no, Leysa, I don’t
As in, the way you two met.
Unless?
No!
I figured. Anyways, back to Stephen. Was this the first time he was acting in this way?
I...guess? Nothing out of the ordinary before this...I’m not entirely sure this was an anxiety attack
But he can’t have gotten feelings for me out of nowhere, could he?
Sometimes, Trudy, feelings can spring out of nowhere, and in the most unexpected of places. Of course, you’re under no obligation — and I want to stress that there is none, whatsoever — to oblige, reciprocate or give anything back to him, if he does like you. If you want my personal opinion
yes please
You two have gone through a lot together, haven’t you? It’s amazing to think he literally stumbled into your life in a cafe. Won the Under 18 World Cup. A Di Bradini Cup. Been to the World Cup together, went across Chromatika together. Campaigned for equality, made it work, helped him through possibly the hardest part of his life together so far, and now you two are team-mates. I’m not saying that this is a guaranteed catalyst for feelings of any sort, but from what you’ve told me so far about Stephen I doubt he’s ever been in a proper romantic relationship.
So…?
Most people tend to, well, enter their first romantic relationships at your age. And, well, you two have gone through a lot together. This is the exact sort of thing that, well, would give rise to feelings.
so you think he likes me?
I think there’s a chance. A good chance. I cannot be certain, because I’ve never met him. If anything happens, be it good or bad, let me know.
you literally live in wirr tsi now
Well...I’ll always be here for you. Unless you’re wearing grey and I’m wearing yellow and blue.
thanks leysa
you’re truly a lifesaver

Stephanie
Online now

---

steph
wait
why are you awake now
i'm in university. shit tends to keep you awake till the wee hours of the night
get some sleep please
eh, i’m used to it. serrapince has a pretty good late night food scene. and i specifically avoid morning lectures/classes
but what’s up?
you’re dating someone, right?
yeah. mom and dad don’t know, though.
who’s he?
she, actually. helle. i met her a while back. a transfer student from ao. aboveland, actually.
huh, cool.
yeah we both hit it off pretty well, and, well...stuff happened. six months and counting.
wow
don’t tell mom or dad.
not yet, at least
course not.
you scared?
yeah. not sure how they’ll react. and i do want to come out to mom and dad...one day.
your secret’s safe, dw
wait
you’re asking me this bc
bitch YOU GOT A GIRLFRIEND
no
nothing like that
OH
YOU’RE IN LOVE
MY OLDER BROTHER
I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME
noooooo
well
WHO IS IT
IS IT THAT MIDFIELDER GIRL YOU WENT ON HOLIDAY WITH
fucking
OH MY GOD
IT IS
WOW
...
okay okay i’ll stop
but seriously i’m super happy for you like
you’ve literally never had these feelings for anyone before and you’re finally having them! you’re finally growing up!
what the fuck
i don’t even know whether they’re like...feelings of love or something
ok
ok
ask yourself
i’ve had this convo with someone else steph
and what did they say
...that i probably was
HAH
I KNEW IT
wait then why are you messaging me
i’m probably going to tell you the same things and you’re probably, from the way you’re texting, not going to like them
well, you’re more experienced in these things than i am
by a lot
yes, by a lot
so i want to know like
where did you go once you...you know, once you realised these feelings were real
not saying that mine are ofc but like
in case
ok i’m going to operate on the assumption that they are. because you texting me already tells me you’re somewhat on the way to accepting that these feelings are at least somewhat true. what i did when i first realised i liked helle was not to get overwhelmed. okay? if you’re overwhelmed, you’re more likely to act weird. and that’s not good especially if you’re trying to get them to like you back. or even have any kind of platonic relationship if the feelings go away after a while. you two are team-mates. that much i know. so this is important you get me
might have already failed at that
it’s ok.
…
i’m assuming you didn’t do anything too stupid
i think not
ok i’ll take your word for it.
if you’ve already been overwhelmed, then you’ve got to get back on track. try, at least, to act normal, but try and see if they’re receptive to little gestures of love. get them over, cook for them, teach her how to cook
been there done that
dang
is my football-obsessed older brother secretly casanova in disguise? god damn and i thought the cafe dates were killing it
fuck you
anyway
uhhhhh idk what you footballers do. but like. small gestures. if you haven’t scared them off. have heart-to-hearts, proper ones, go out with them, but don’t be clingy.
yknow and after a while you’ll realise whether you’re actually in love with them or not
yeah my friend said it was like a moment of clarity
they’re right.
it is a moment of clarity. take time. the thing won’t come immediately.
oh my god my older brother has feelings for someone eeeeeeeee i’m so excited
don’t worry. i won’t tell mom or dad either.
will you please get some sleep
excuse me
firstly, you chose to begin this conversation
and secondly. not sure if i’ll be able to get any after this ABSOLUTE BOMBSHELL you dropped on me
i hate you
love you too <3
but fr
thanks for the advice
any time. i’m so excited. so so excited for you
i don’t even know if the feelings are like real yet
i hope they are
i...don’t know…
don’t worry. i think your friendship’s strong enough to survive this even if she says no. trust me. you two have been through so much shit together...ofc it needs you to not make it weird.
i’ll try
she’s really pretty btw
i-
HAHAHAHAHAHA the time you took to respond
but yes she’s really pretty
i’m gonna try go sleep now
gn
gn

lynne
Online now

---

lynne
are you awake
yeap
what’s up
eh. life’s so-so. few complications here and there
i doubt you texted me to just chat, though?
eh…
oh. something’s up, eh? you can tell me
have you ever had anyone crush on you before
yeah, sure, multiple times
how did you react to it
well
a bit of enjoyment, a bit of laughter, really. i just didn't take it too seriously, just a bit of fun.
i didn’t know them that well. neither did they know me. doubt if they knew me they’d have much of a crush lol
ok
let’s say that someone i’ve known for a while has a crush on me
mhm
are you feeling weird about it or anything
no
then it’s fine
how close are you with this person
idk...quite?
do they play football
yes?
it’s ok trudy you can say stephen kerr
FUCK
HOW IS IT THAT EVERYONE I’VE TALKED TO HAS DISCERNED HIS IDENTITY WITHIN TWO SENTENCES
babe
it’s not that hard
there’s literally one person that fits the bill darling and its him
so you’re saying he’s got a crush on you
i think so
okay, and?
it’s weird
you said like ten messages ago it wasn’t!
no as in
it doesn’t feel weird
the fact that he might have a crush on me does
really?
bc i never thought of him as someone that would be able to have these kinds of feelings
not least for someone like me
ding, dong, there you go again, trudy
what
you’re not treating people like people again
and there’s a combo with your self-deprecation
stephen is perfectly able of feeling these things because he is, spoiler alert! another human being.
and the self-deprecation lmao pLS trudy you’re worthy of receiving these kinds of feelings if they do exist
but ok
do you want them to exist?
idk. kinda? it’s like
idek if they even exist bc this just came up a few days ago
okay.
you sound...very confused
i am
okay good. not many people like to admit this. it’s a good start! try to distill what you’re feeling towards him right now. do you see him as only a friend?
i guess? i’ve never really thought about this too much tbh. but idk what i feel about him
never really entertained the prospect that i’d be together with someone
really…?
i guess i've thought about it sometimes.
with stephen?
nobody in particular.
but
he’s actually the first person i could actually see myself with.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 4, part 6
vs. wirr tsi

A few weeks had passed since Stephen had tried — and failed — to talk to Trudy, for some reason. They'd remained cordial with each other, though Trudy couldn't help but feel like Stephen had...withdrawn from her. She'd asked whether he wanted to teach her to cook again, but he as he stammered out that his house had gotten quite messy and that he needed to clean it up, she noticed him trying his very best to not look into her eyes.

And then he'd not heard her (or pretended not to hear her) when she offered to clean his house up with him. Just, y'know, as friends did. Over text Leysa had told Trudy that Stephen's strange behaviour was...probably not really worth worrying about; he was just trying to sort out his feelings. Plus, she playfully added, there were more important things for him to focus on — like losing to Wirr Tsi.

That was to be the most important match of the season. Wirr Tsi were absolutely running away with the title; at the halfway mark of the season they'd already secured a fourteen point lead to second-placed Myana. Nobody said it during Chromatik training sessions, but the one thing they wanted — the one thing — was to go to The Shock and completely wreck their world. Midseason training continued in earnest; there was only one thing on their mind.

And soon, she'd nearly forgotten about him as well. As much as she could try to forget about her team-mate, anyway. But sometimes, in her room at the Chromatik Football Club, in absolute darkness, she found herself scrolling through messages...and then she hit the bottom. They hadn't talked in a while over text. She wanted to reach out, type a simple "u up?" or something, anything that could shine a light on what had happened to Stephen. She'd caught glimpses of him just looking at her sometimes, but as soon as he noticed, he cut his gaze almost immediately.

Was he avoiding her?

As much as she didn't want to say yes, there was a part of her that was slowly inching towards that conclusion. It was frustrating, to say the least, because she wasn't afraid to admit that...maybe...

Yeah. Maybe it would still take a bit of time for her to be able to speak her own truth about how she felt about Stephen. Unlike that dork, however, she was at least confident that when she arrived at that truth, she wouldn't be scared of saying it to...the w...

Nevermind. Maybe she now understood how she felt.

As she stared into the black mirror of her screen, however, and turned away to the other side of the bed, a new emotion came over her. It was a pull; a pull that tugged on both her heart and her mind, as she struggled to come to terms with wanting someone.

Yearning.

Was this it? Was this what it felt like to want someone, to be in love, utterly in it with someone that it overrid almost everything else? Back in Kingsbury, living in that dingy one-room apartment in Botany for the first time as a seventeen year-old, with a community surrounding her that actually cared for her, she once let slip that she wouldn't look for love, even as they celebrated her being called up for the Under-18 World Cup. The neighbours laughed; she was only eighteen. She hadn't fully experienced life yet, she couldn't go around making such bold statements. She laughed with them, of course; but she thought she'd never really find someone who she'd fall for.

Until Stephen.

She tossed and turned, one minute with a blanket over her, the next moment not; one moment her hand under the pillow, the next hugging her bolster tightly...but the wave of sleep failed to engulf her.

It was mid-day when she woke up. Thankfully there wasn't any training that day.

---

Fluffy white sheets and possibly the most comfortable bed Stephen Kerr had ever lay in failed to help him drift off to sleep. After a while, he'd given up; looking out of the window into the bright lights of Chromia. A city in progress, always; new buildings being built, constantly, and...well, there was always the Capitalizt Dome. From his house it was very small, but the mushroom-shaped dome still was distinctive enough to see. All three of Chromia's stadiums were rather out of the ordinary; there was the Dome, of course, a cathedral of football and sitting 144,000; the Anomalies Tower, built on top of a restaraunt; and the university campus that played home to Crossroads. But the more he stared at the stadium, the more he thought of...her.

Her dark, flowing dress on the opening ceremony of the World Cup. That meal they shared in Z'ai'ai. He genuinely didn't want to admit that he'd fallen for her, but somehow he...had. He didn't know why, or how; all he knew that for the first time in his life, he...was infatuated. Had a crush.

Was in love, maybe, despite him wanting to try his very best to deny it. And he was deeply, deeply in denial about it; to the extent that he simply tried his best to not talk to her if he could help it. After all - the less they interacted for now, the less he'd have to think about her. But they were teammates still, and he couldn't go about it forever. Some day, he'd have to face up to the fact that he was possibly in love with his best friend and team-mate; that for the first time ever, he actually had feelings for someone that didn't completely engulf him. Sure, he'd had crushes before; but they hadn't been in such close proximity to him like this, nor was the bond they shared so strong.

But even then, he couldn't think about that; he had to focus his energy on football. If anything, it was an easy excuse to avoid Trudy; she'd asked him whether she could come over and he could teach her how to cook again, but he'd fibbed his way out of it, saying that the house was messy. This was an abject lie; there was nothing Stephen hated more than a messy room, and he had to force himself to ignore Trudy's offer of helping him clean up his house. He was in line to becoming Chromatik's starting centre-back; in fact, he'd entered that conversation the moment Cameron Win had gone down injured against Lhor. And the Wirr Tsi game was his chance to show how much he'd grown, how much he deserved to continue starting alongside Kamil.

He couldn't let something as trivial as...feelings for a team-mate...engulf him...had to...win the league...

By the time he woke up again, the sun was shining through his window, and he felt uncomfortably warm in his bed. A brief sense of panic overwhelmed him — had he missed training? A quick glance at his phone told him no, there wasn't any training today.

But the match was three days away.

---

Wirr Tsi

What's going on? Run. Move up the field. Cover Kamil, don't let Carpenter take Ramires; focus on marking Kohut. Grab the ball, pass it on. Simple, easy, football; That's how we're going to beat them.

Eighty-seven minutes. The most important game of the season.

Nil-nil.

It had been end to end action, with opportunities on both sides, but there was a sense that something; just something was waiting to happen. And it would only take a spark to settle the game for either side, and for one to come out victorious.

A break in play; the ball rolled out of bounds and limply towards Jannick, who kicked the ball into the air, grabbed it and passed it to the Wirr Tsi player who'd come towards him to take the throw in. Stephen stopped, catching his breath, casting his eye over the field. Electric yellow kits contrasted well with the grey of the Capitalizt; and he caught a glance at Leysa Burns, who seemed rather interested in him. They'd spent a moment more than the rest when shaking hands before the rest of the match, her eyes seemingly reading what was in Stephen's mind. Her wisened gait, despite being only 28, echoed; and her being a Chromatik alumni, of course, seemed to make things a lot friendlier between the rest of the squad and his. Trudy in particular seemed overjoyed at seeing Leysa again; she'd praised Leysa to high heaven in one of their late-night talks, saying that the reason she'd bled into Chromatik so well was because of her mentorship.

He caught her staring at him again, and tried not to notice. Play restarted, and the rhythm kept going, but almost immediately it was time for a corner.

This was going to be vital.

Walk, half-jog to the Wirr Tsi goal; Stephen was tall, therefore he was part of the scrabble inside the box. There was Leysa, and Trudy, all staring at Cixin; she's about to swing in the corner kick. Just as practiced. The tension was palpable; the stadium still cheered, chanting, of course; hoping to put one of the players off their mark, but to Stephen, it was all background noise.

In came the thud of the ball, soaring into the air; headed right for Stephen. He knew it was for him; grabbing shoulders, he leapt into the air, jumping higher than he'd ever done before. The ball made contact with his hair, creating a dull thump; and opened his eyes to see the ball rocketing into the back of the net, with Kathie Begley nowhere near.

It was in; Stephen Kerr had just scored his first goal for Chromatik, and as he bounded off to the corner flag to celebrate in front of the travelling Chromatik fans, he didn't notice Trudy intially holding back; before Leysa tapped her on the shoulder, gently pointing in his direction before she ran off to join the rest of the team, too.

They'd come out on top, at last.

---

The celebrations had died down, the players were freshening up, ready for the long trip back to Chromia. For Stephen, who'd just come out of the shower and was now sitting near his items, it was time to relax. Bask in the fact that he'd won the Player of the Match award, which he now clutched in his hands; and he leant against the wall, taking it all in.

His reverie was, unfortunately, interrupted by the vibrations on his phone informing him of a call. +90. The call was from a Tumbran number. But who could it be?

He wiped some of the water from the shower off his hair, and picked up the call.

"H-hello?"

"Hello? Is this...ah...Mr. Stephen Kerr?" A voice on the other side of the line began speaking in slow, halting Tumbran, pronouncing each word very clearly. The speaker was very evidently still learning the language; the accent was vaguely Rushmori, but he just couldn't place it. He — and the voice was a he, that much was obvious — was he San Ortelian? No, they tended to sound like Grande Cucinans. Then it hit him.

The accent was a bit like his grandma's on his mom's side, his ahma, as his mom told him to call her, except for a few subtle differences. A bit more...northern?

"Yeah, that's me. May I ask who this is?"

"Ah, good, Mr. Kerr." The voice had trouble rolling his rs. "Yes, I will let you know who I am. My name is Mr. Yuan. Yuan — ah — Yuan Zilai. I am the manager, ahh, as you might know, of the Tumbran national football team."

"Well, Mr. Yuan, it's good to hear from you."

"I just wanted to call to, ah, congratulate you on your very good performance against Wirr Tsi. It was a very, very good show, if I say myself. Very mature."

"Thank you, Mr. Yuan."

"Ah, but I should let you know why I am truly calling you today. I would like for you to join the rest of the Tumbran national team for our matches against Delaclava and Northwest Kalactin. I think you have reached the required level and am very happy for you to join us."

His heart began thumping quicker in his chest. It couldn't be - just sixteen games into his Chromatik career - and he was already on the verge of receiving his senior callup.

"You're calling me up, Mr. Yuan?"

"I believe that is the term used, yes."

"Well, uhh, I don't know what to say, Mr. Yuan, I'm very happy that you gave me this chance, and, well, I'm looking forward and very eager to join you."

"Good! Good, good, good. Now, ahh, is your team-mate, Ms. Harrison, nearby? I would also like to speak to her. Or should I call her directly?"

"Yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah, she is, ahhh, uhhhh, let me find her. Ahhhh, hold on a while, Mr. Yuan, I'll get you to her, no problem."

And his heart began beating quicker. Ignoring the fact that he was in a towel and shorts, he bounded out of the male changing room; only to come face to face with Trudy Harrison, who looked visibly shocked at the fact that Stephen was interacting with her again, and the distinct lack of clothes he was wearing. But the grin on his face, the outstretched hand with the phone in it...what had happened?

"It's for you."

"I...can tell. Who is it?"

"You'll...you'll see," momentarily coming down from the high of finding out he'd been called up to the national team to realising he was half-naked in front of her. He decided to go put on some proper clothes, but try as he might to bring himself away from Trudy...he lost himself in her eyes, her smile, as she deftly navigated her way through the conversation with the manager of the Tumbran national football team. And he just...stood there. The words that were coming out of her mouth weren't of any matter to him; he was completely, utterly lost, grinning, until the call ended.

"Looks like we're both going to Northwest Kalactin, Stephen," she said, with only a small smile on her face, handing the phone back to Stephen.

"I, uh, uhmmm, yeah."

"Now go put on some clothes. Jeez, what if someone else sees you?"

"R-right, yeah." Stephen Kerr walked back into the male changing room.

And in so doing, he completely missed the small smile on Trudy Harrison's face changing into a giant grin.

[Tumbra]

wingerxwinger
a one-shot

Lakewood
The night before the Final

The hotel was a little out of the way, part of the Lakewood Bay; but the view the particular hotel room offered of the twinkling Lakewood skyline was unparalleled. It was a bit old; three old buildings occupying pride of place, of course; but behind them, the taller, steel monoliths of the modern era; the engines that turned to keep the Lakewood economy going and pushing it into a new age. Tumbra's Industrial Revolution had reached its zenith here — cotton being mass produced here and being shipped out to a world beyond, which made the city rich — but in recent years the financial centre of the country had moved north.

This was, of course, the last thing on Audrey Pearson's mind that night; but the twinkling lights of the Lakewood city skyline was a useful distraction from tomorrow's final against the strongest Græntfjall side in years. The reason they'd chosen this hotel was that it was out of the way; no chance of fans turning up outside the hotel's doors and making a huge ruckus. Of course, Græntfjallers didn't have that reputation; but nobody knew if the fans of the other twenty-seven countries that took part in the tournament would've done so, anyway. And there was the added benefit of no snoopy Tumbrans showing up. The last thing the team needed, Toby Barton decided, before a tournament final, was more pressure being piled on them.

But there was pressure enough from their futures; contract offers had been sent by almost all of the twenty Premier Division teams, eager to try and get the twenty-three players to join them. Audrey herself had received several offers from almost all of the Big Six, who'd been impressed with her attacking output and dribbling. Personally she didn't think her football was that good; but if they saw what they saw in her, then she was happy enough with that. But she still felt a little...disappointed. It wasn't that playing for Lakewood United or Nantwich wasn't a good thing, just...she was hoping for a little more.

Then there was the question of the fifth envelope. It had appeared for her when they'd touched base in Lakewood, the hotel concierge handing her the envelope along with the key card to the room. It smelled faintly...burnt? But for what it was, the envelope was quite high quality. A small white circle, surrounded by gold, encompassed two small green lines, and inside it — another white circle, this time with two golden hammers. The stamp on the top right was uncreognisable; a small saltire in a light blue field — but a bit of searching on the Internet revealed that it was the...Roolandese flag. Too many symbols on the top. Diacritics, the search engine spat out at her when her query of "weird symbol on top of letter" was entered. It was now on top of her side table, on a tray typically used by smokers to dispose of ashes; but the burning smell had been there even before she'd placed it on the ashtray. Reaching across her bed, she picked the envelope up to look at it again.

She flipped the envelope over, placing it on her pillow. There was her name, written in intricate handwriting, and an address, et cetera. She toyed with whether to open the envelope, thumbing it with great care; and was too lost in her thoughts to notice her roommate come out of the toilet, clamber over her bed, sopping wet and all, to put her chin on Audrey's shoulder.

"Ya know ——" she began.

"GAAAARGH!" Audrey fell off the bed, pillow in hand, and landed on the floor, staring back at her room-mate.

" —— envelopes are typically meant to be opened, not stared at. And you've been staring at that thing the entire day," Michelle Ferris continued, unfazed.

"Christ, Michelle, could've told me you were here," Audrey composed herself. "Aw, now you've got my bed wet..." she said, ruefully, looking up at her room-mate, water dripping off Michelle's hair onto her bed.

A small laugh escaped Michelle's mouth — really, it was more of a sharp exhale one did when they saw something that was moderately funny but not enough to merit a laugh — and she withdrew from Audrey's bed onto her own, across the room.

"Eh, makes it more fun to sleep on. It'll dry out. But enough about my hair, anyway; that envelope. Do you want to open it, or do you want me to open it for you, or do you just want to stare at it until the end of time?"

"Well...I don't know what's inside it. What would someone from Ru-Roo-Ra—"

"Rülândéá."

"Right, whatever you're saying — how are you pronouncing that precisely anyway —"

"I watch a lot of football."

"Wait — you're saying this letter's related to football —"

Michelle shook her head slightly. "Gimme that."

Audrey obliged, handing the letter over to Michelle. She inspected it for a few moments, taking in the envelope like how Audrey herself did it. Then her eyes travelled to the green and white circle on the logo, and her eyes widened.

"Yes. It is related to football."

"How did you — wait —"

Michelle flipped the envelope to show Audrey the same logo, before handing it back to her. "That, Miss Audrey Pearson, is the logo of the Farf football club Rülândéá Kôstä."

"Are-are they big? The look on your face told me that they're kinda big."

"Well, they participate in the best league in the world — citation needed, of course — and they're probably like the...eighth or ninth best side in it?"

"Oh." The look on her face fell for a moment.

"They still get Champions' League football."

"Wait, you're serious? Audrey laughed at the suggestion before looking back at Michelle's completely straight face. "Wait, you're serious."

"Shango-Fogoa Premier League, darling, the best league in the world according to the IFCF. Ten Banijan clubs, ten Farf clubs, fourteen IFCF slots between them because they're just so goddamned good. You could be a star, Audrey, with them. And this may just be what you're looking for. Life outside Tumbra. Even if Farfadilis is, you know, not the safest place in the world. Or the best place to be in the world. It's basically the polar opposite of this place."

"Life outside Tumbra..." Audrey's voice trailed off once again as she held the envelope. Delicately opening the envelope, she sat on the bed once again next to Michelle — for them to read it together. The English on the pages had a few grammatical errors, but overall they got the gist; they were interested in signing Audrey and were interested to know if she wanted to meet with one of their representatives to discuss terms, and so on.

"Life outside Tumbra, Audrey. Haven't you been waiting for this? Away from your family, like you told me on the first night we roomed together? They didn't approve of you joining football..."

"Yeah."

"Harrison winning it didn't change that? I know mine shut the fuck up the moment they lifted the trophy four years ago. If anything they kept encouraging me to go for it. I was fourteen. That victory did so much for us." Michelle knelt on the bed behind Audrey, put her arms on Audrey's shoulders, and began to squeeze. Audrey felt like melting under Michelle's firm touched; a soft moan escaped, involuntarily, as Michelle zeroed in and rubbed a knuckle against a sore part of Audrey's shoulder.

"No — little lower, to the left — they've always thought football should only be played by — right there, yeah — men. Sport's no way to make a living, Audrey, you'll never make it. Well, look where Harrison got us."

"Bullcrap. Look at you, now." She continued, working her way to Audrey's neck. "Funny how that one victory four years ago changed all our lives. I mean, without it, none of us would be here. We'd probably be in junior college, or something. And now? Women playing at the highest level of football. She won the league for Chromatik, y'know. And the Campionato."

"There's also Kerr —"

"He's obviously the protagonist of some other story. That defence let in fifty-eight goals, he's not worth much until he stops them from shipping so much."

"Their story's perfect, y'know. Almost too perfect. Wonder if the same thing'll ever happen again. Or if we could be the protagonists of our own story."

"Well, you've got your vanilla envelope with your Rülândéá offer. I've got...well...sweet fuck all so far. And I want to leave this country too, damnit." Michelle's hands stopped, their warm presence withdrawing from Audrey's neck. Audrey instinctively turned around and grabbed Michelle's arm, staring into her dark, almond-coloured eyes.

"I'm sure you'll get offers too, Michelle. The Final hasn't even happened."

"Won't be as good as yours, that's for sure." She sat down, again. "Listen, you're a terrific footballer, and you deserve all the offers you get."

"I just wish you could be there with me, for everything that's going to happen. My — or even our — story."

"Lots of stories happen throughout the world. Not all of them are told. And don't be stupid. I'll still be there, regardless of what happens. And who knows? We could play together one day."

"Well..."

"Don't compromise your future for me, dumbass. Now will you let go of my arm? I want to make some tea. You want some?"

"Yeah."

"Right. I'll go. You stay here and think about whether you want to go to Rülândéá Kôstä. Though the answer should be blindingly obvious."

[Tumbra]

“Remember when all of us were paired up, back in that summer camp when you were just sixteen, and well — you were tasked with stopping me while I was dribbling? Not many people would’ve gone in on me. Firstly, there was the chance I’d have made you look stupid. Then there was the chance you’d have injured me. And finally, well, you were up against...me. But you gave it all you got. And, well, you got me.”

“First try.”

“First try. And we both clattered into each other. And then we both laughed. That was the moment I noticed you, Stephen. At that moment? I knew you were something special. Brave, determined, always willing to give things a fair go — hell, your best go.”

“Yeah. But what does this have to do with, well, me?”

“I believe you’ll be able to tackle life abroad like how you tackled me that cloudy day in Xinhua. Well. Robustly. Chase your dreams, Stephen.”

the day stephen met daniel
a one-shot

Xinhua
The Outskirts of Jinyu City

Two years before the events of Season One, Part One: A Day In Kven

For Stephen Kerr, all of sixteen years old and on the verge of signing his first professional contract for Straton Football Club, life was going swimmingly. School was out, and he'd been invited to Straton's pre-season training as one of the forty members of the training camp squad. He'd get to live, learn and train with the players who took to the field for Premier Division matches...or so he thought.

Reality was often disappointing.

The trip had been scheduled for three weeks. During this time the squad was meant to play five matches against various clubs in Xinhua; an exhibition tour of sorts. Stephen thought that he'd be in and around the senior team, doing the same drills, playing ball with players like Leo Hooper and Wayne Forrest...and Daniel Galbraith, the club's legend, captain and supposedly a — no, the idol for everyone at the club. Stephen had always preferred the more taciturn, reserved yet imposing defender Frank Woolley, but kept it on the down low. Sure, Dan was talented, but Frank was the entire reason why Stephen wanted to become a defender. But for all his wishes of training with the senior team, they were training on another pitch doing full on drills and match prep while Stephen was with the junior team kids doing stretching. And learning how to pass the ball accurately. And dribbling and...

"Why'd they even bring us here if we could do all this back in Straton? Surely there's no difference between what we're doing there and what we're doing here. Boggles my mind, really," Stephen whispered as he watched the coaches demonstrate another endless drill. It was a sunny day in Xinhua, and he had to give the club this; the training facilities were modern, more modern than what they had at home. The air was also considerably fresher, though he attributed that to the air in Straton not being very good.

"Dunno, mate, your guess is as good as mine," murmured centre mid John Lawrence. "Maybe it's the experience of being a proper footballer."

"I mean, we could probably train with the senior players. Our drills aren't that much easier compared to theirs."

"Wouldn't say that. They've brought us here for a reason."

Stephen sighed as he watched the coaches instruct them on how to dribble past several mannequins; bring the ball round a cone, demonstrating how to do a turn, before passing the ball to the next person, running towards a goal where there was a ball on the penalty spot and taking a shot. This was basic stuff; the fact that there was a time limit didn't seem to make Stephen any more interested in the course. One by one, the boys began filing into a straight line; John stood behind Stephen as the ones at the front of the line began tackling the course. The time limit was twenty-five seconds; but the first boy, a defender named Barry, failed the time limit; he took too long to make the turn. It seemed like the limit was closer to the limit of Stephen's abilities than previously possible.

Eyes narrowing, he began constructing the path that would be the easiest; of course, his ball control would also need to be top notch.

"Reckon I could do it?" came the voice from behind him.

"What? 'Course you can. Anyone could." There went a winger, Harvey; he got the dribbling part down, and got the turn right, but his shot was off kilter; nowhere close to the goal. The two of them inched closer to the front of the line.

"I dunno, Stee, this looks more difficult than it seems."

"I mean, it's not like they'll drop us if we fail." Squad member after squad member was trying and failing; one of them had clattered into the mannequin. Surely it wasn't so hard.

The player in front of them went; suddenly Stephen was at the front of the line. He gazed on as the player received the ball, dribbled it past one, two, three mannequins; cut sharply to the right, sprinted with the ball to the cone; turned, faced the goal, made the shot...

Off target. With a slightly disappointed look, he wiped some of the sweat onto his sleeve. Stephen was almost lost in seeing his effort that he nearly didn't notice that the whistle beginning his twenty-five seconds began. But he was ready; he'd observed, and was confident —

Slaloming past the mannequins with light touches on his feet, he reached the end of the course; hooked the ball, knocked it forth to the cone, made the turn —

Now it was time for the shot. The goal looked further than he thought. There was one of the goalkeepers; ready to try and save his effort, though he hadn't needed to do much, the way the shots were landing. They were supposed to shoot from a rather strange angle; it didn't offer as much of an operating window as facing it head on. To beat the keeper required a lot of curve, of course — think, use your foot, curve it more than usual.

He caught up with the ball; and without taking a second thought, booted the ball.

It flew, perfectly, in an arc...

And got parried by the goalkeeper.

Stephen looked grimly on as the goalkeeper flashed a smile and a thumbs up at him; evidently he'd made the goalkeeper do more than the rest of his team-mates combined. Still stung, though, as he jogged back past one of the coaches; "Nice try, Stephen, shame about the shot," came the remark, as he joined the rest. He saw Barry throw a stink-eye at him and snigger; resisting the temptation to lash out, he silently joined the back group.

John hadn't made it, either; he'd run out of time on the run-up to the shot. Disappointed, he sidled back up to Stephen.

"Man..."

"Eh, I know. Tough time limit."

"Aright, listen up boys!" came the shrill, heavily Western-accented (read: Northern English) voice of the aging coach. "None of youse made it past the course. So we'll be gettin' one of the senior lads to try an' showcase how exactly to do the drill."

And, with that easy smile on his face, spring in his step and uncombed hair, Daniel Galbraith popped up, to the gasps of some of of the squad.

"Hi," he began. "My name's Dan. Think some of you might have heard of me."

A few people giggled.

"Well, Henry's been running this drill since when I was in the academy. Which, uh, I don't like thinking about it, but it was a long time ago. Twenty-five seconds, dribble past 5 mannequins, run to the cone, round it, run to the goal and shoot. Anyway, I've always said an extra ten seconds would do this drill the world of good —"

"They won't have an extra ten seconds in a game, Dan —"

"— but until he retires he's in charge, so I'm not gonna say anything. Anyway —" Dan motioned for a ball, which was thrown over; he scooped the ball up with his foot, keeping it moving; "— I like adding a bit of a challenge. So instead of five mannequins, I'd like three volunteers to try and stop me. Do I have any —"

Barry's hand shot up. Stephen instinctively rolled his eyes.

"Alright, you. And you, the one rolling his eyes," Dan said, pointing at Stephen. "And you, too," he said, pointing at John.

"Why'd he choose us?"

"Because he saw me rolling my eyes."

"Fuck you."

"You'll thank me later."

"Sure, when Dan makes me look like an idiot."

"He won't — come on, he's the best fucking player in this country and we're on the under-16's."

"I'm not gonna go easy on any of them," Stephen overheard Dan say to the rest of the boys, "it's a demonstration, but you boys need to be ready for anything."

"That's exactly why you should go easy on us," muttered Stephen through gnashed teeth.

---

The boys were lined up; Barry would try to stop Dan first, then John, and Stephen was the last man. He'd seen hours upon hours of game footage of Dan, and knew how he was going to deal with them; the famed feint-sidestep. For a moment, Stephen didn't even feel like resisting; after all, he was sixteen and Daniel was, well, very much older and more experienced than him. But when the whistle blew, and Barry got sidestepped by Dan almost immediately, he felt something harden within him; no, he was going to prove he was better than Barry.

By taking down Daniel Galbraith.

Dan had advanced with the ball rapidly, and was coming up on John; shimmy-ing over, unsure of how to tackle the great man Galbraith himself; eventually he chose a side, but Dan feinted going the same way, causing John to stumble over his feet and tackle thin air. Stephen stood still, nonplussed, as the great man himself, the smile on his face gone, replaced with the look of pure fury and concentration one would expect from him in a Prem match —

Dan went left. He was going to commit; no feinting this time. Stephen recognised this, because Dan had begun leaning in before he usually did for the feint. So he did what all defenders had to do; moved in his path, stuck his foot out for the ball, and slid —

Obviously he hadn't been expecting that the kid who'd rolled his eyes at the volunteer would be this committed, or be able to read him this well, because Daniel Francis Galbraith, the captain of Straton Football Club and widely regarded as the best dribbler, shooter, playmaker, player of his generation, hadn't jumped to avoid Stephen's leg, and went clattering all over the ground as Stephen gained possession of the ball. The dull thud distracted Stephen, and his other leg, which had been tucked under his arse, came out from under it, meaning that as the ball slid off the pitch, Stephen just sat there as what he'd just done sank in. He'd just tackled, possibly injured, his team's captain, best player...

He sat there, breathing heavily, looking at the ball; until a firm hand tapped him on his shoulder. A kind, self-confident and warm smile glanced up at him; it was Dan.

"Looks like you stopped me," he mused as he extended an arm. Stephen grabbed it and Dan basically pulled Stephen off the ground.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Caught me off guard. I'm not injured, don't worry. They won't cancel your contract. You did good, though. You did great!" He put both his hands on his hips, as they began walking back towards the class. "What's your name?"

"Stephen. Stephen Kerr."

"Stephen, huh? I'll keep that in mind."

They reached the class; Dan began speaking, with the aura of an all-wisened teacher. "All right, looks like I failed the test too. Maybe next training session I'll turn up with you guys," he said to more laughter. "But there's an important lesson to be learnt here. About fear and why you shouldn't ever be afraid to go in for a clean tackle. If that player wasn't me, how many of you would have gone in for the tackle like Stephen?"

Only a few people raised their hands, one half-heartedly.

"How many of you wouldn't have?"

Even less raised their hands. They didn't want to be called a coward. Dan smiled, knowingly.

"In a game, something that's just as important as your technical skills is the way you approach the game, mentally. You cannot be afraid; you have to go for the plan that your coach, your manager's set out. This is important at all levels of the game, whether you sign your first contract here..." he glanced at Stephen, knowingly, "...or not. Technical skills can be learned, trained. Believe me, I did this the hard way. But your mental state in a game cannot be taught. It can only be experienced."

Dan glanced at his watch. "Alright, it's time for lunch. Whether you passed or failed — as I said, this drill could do with a lengthier time limit — I'm sure you tried your hardest. So go eat, fill yourself up, and your coach will see you later."

Stephen filed off with the rest of the class, glancing one last time at Dan, who was smiling in his direction.

---

"He didn't hurt yeh, did he?"

"No. Henry, he's sixteen."

"Sixteen year-olds can still hurt yeh where ye least expect it. All the time you've done this for the other classes they haven't laid a finger on you. They probably know you're not meant to be tackled."

"That's not how the drill's meant to work, Henry, and I'll be very disappointed if that's what you're doing. Telling them not to tackle me because I'm, well, me."

"Club can't risk ye getting injured, Danny boy. I'll have a word with the lad, tell him not to do that again —"

"His name's Stephen. And no, Henry, you can't do that. I like him. I approve of what he did. If anything, we need more of these types. Not afraid to go against me. I think he's special."

"Special he may be, but he's just about average in this class. The other boy, Barry, I think he's much —"

"Don't be daft. He's got something the other one doesn't. If anything Stephen can go further than him."

"Sure. I'll relay your comments on to Pete. But on to the other matter — you did great out there, Danny. Ever considered coaching after retirement? Head Office considers you their top priority."

"I'm not thinking about retirement yet. I'm not even sure if I'll even be here in a few years' time. Not having that conversation —"

"Oh, come on —"

"Nope!"

"It's never too early to start thinking about it, Dan —"

"Nope! I'm going to eat lunch. Bye, Henry!" Daniel Galbraith flashed that classic, trademark smile of his, and began running off to the canteen, knowing his mentor wouldn't be able to catch up. Henry sighed, raised his eyebrows, and looked upon the figure of Dan, rapidly disappearing.

Never changed.

[Tumbra]

IMPORTANT NOTE: This part was now written by me, but by a very good friend and long-time collaborator of mine, Chromatika, who has very kindly given me permission to cross-post his work here.

defender meets midfielder, Supplemental 1
the departure

With thanks to Tumbra, who's allowing me to write some of the background pieces that explain the world around the main story. This piece occurs before the meal, which is Season 3, Part 4. Also, thanks to Quebec and Shingoryeo, who's let me write one of his characters.

Chromia

Being the Manager of the biggest name brand in Chromatika was an interesting life, but Jannick Kontiola wore it well. Hired all the way back in Season 4, the Quebecois was brought in to elevate the play of Chromatik after watching their biggest rival, Anomalies, complete a three-peat; Jannick had won over the fans with his player-first, laid-back attitude and a desire to win. Things didn't go over very well early - Chromatik saw Crossroads, the third team from the Capital, win their first title, and then Wirr Tsi took over the leaderboard.

However, heading into Season 7, Jannick could see the landscape of the Red League changing bit by bit. Sure, there would be smaller teams fighting for survival - there was even talk about Tor or Lanar making some noise next year - but Chromatik had bigger fish to fry.

Myana had just replaced longtime Manager Madison Bilboa and was going to go with Tumbran Marco Hemmings, banking on Marko Zup and Enrico Hanson-Conavacio, two of their young pieces. Anomalies would always be an intriguing opponent with the veteran leadership of Lainey Wadsworth and the stardom of Mithya Hashemi, while Crossroads had Junstiina Dannysdóttir.

However, he had just received an interesting offer from Wirr Tsi. Zhaxi Nanlei, fresh off of winning his first title, had an offer for Leysa Burns, Chromatik's Defensive Midfielder. With the direction that Chromatik was headed - they had just signed Cande Montalban from Krytenia and Cixin Nguyen from Chromia Central College University - there was a choice for Jannick and the Chromatik brass to make. Would they send Leysa to one of the hottest domestic teams, knowing full well that Leysa will be used to her utmost potential against them, counting on the addition of one Trudy Harrison, previous U-18 champion with Tumbra?

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. It was expected, of course, but he couldn't help but notice the different air about Leysa Burns as she entered the room, freshly showered after practice, her shoulder-length hair freely flowing.

"You wanted to see me, Gamdoknim (coach)?

"Ah, yes, Leysa. Thank you for coming after practice. Come, sit." Leysa did, and Jannick could tell that she knew what this was about.

"I'm sure you've been notified by your agent that you got that bid from Wirr Tsi. Now, I have no design on letting you go if you don't want to go - we're in a good spot, and sure, it may not be this immediate season, but we are still building up to that title shot. If you want the challenge of playing in Wirr Tsi, and facing us twice a year, go ahead. If you want to stay, we could still use you. You have that je ne sais quois (I don't know) quality about you that's irreplaceable." Jannick concluded. He meant every word he said, and though people said that he wa a bit of a smooth talker, he always maintained that he was a genuine man.

After shifting a bit uncomfortably, Lesya sighed.

"What do you think of Trudy Harrison?" she asked abruptly.

Jannick raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden question. He motioned for her to continue.

"Everyone says Myana's the youth movement, but we've got one going ourselves, right? Raul. Cixin. Cande. Sure, there's Dun, but he's on his way out, and besides the defensive veteran presence of Win and Jernejec, everyone else is pretty youthful and motivated. You have a perfectly capable nineteen year old on the bench who's won an international tournament. She has way more tenacity and stopping power than me, and I think that she is ready to step in," she explained.

"So, you want to leave because you think Trudy is a better fit?" inquired Jannick, starting to see where this was going.

"I think Wirr Tsi is a better fit. They need someone who can be more of a leader and spend most of the time defending. You need someone who can do that but also turn around and get the ball to Cixin and Micha. Trudy can do that. I can tell when someone else is meant for the role I'm in, and Wirr Tsi isn't a horrible lateral move from me, either," stated Leysa, "The girl was meant to play, and meant to lead. And if you end up getting that other Tumbran, and he ends up starting someday? That's going to be important that she got starting time beforehand."

Jannick sat back in his chair, stunned.

"Wow," he stammered, "Mon Dieu (My God), you're a strange one."

Then, he reached out a hand, and she took it.

"I like it. Thank you for your words, Leysa. I'll take your wishes under consideration. Bonne chance (Good luck) going forward, Maidemoiselle."

Leysa bowed, and then curtsied.

"It's been an honor. I'm sure we'll talk again before the deal's finalized," she quipped.

Then, she was out of the office.

Jannick stood up and looked out of the window of his office at the top of the Chromia Star Center. It was going to be an interesting offseason, indeed.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 1
not in love anymore

Credit for the Tumbra-Audioslavia match writeup goes to Audioslavia, who probably knows more about football than I ever will.

Avanaroch, Tikariot
The Summer of [World Cup] 89

"Hughes. To Ashburn. Tumbra looking for something special here, they're a goal down but they've been the better team for quite a bit of this match. Time is, however, running out. Ashburn pauses, tries to seek out someone; I think it's Hicks. I think he's taken too much time there, the Audioslavians are rousing themselves for a counterattack. It'll be Hicks he tries to pass to, but he's out of position; it's Moxey, Moses Moxey of Holdenberg, with the interception, and the Bulls have smelled blood — they're all over the wounded Eagles now. Moxey with the ball, quick pass into space; Erwin Spijkers running towards it, now, easily outpacing Hughes — doesn't even need to look, look now — one touch, and he's going to swing it into the box. Beautifully taken, Ashburn way out of position, Henderson there, he's got to deny it; but Rijsbergen — RIJSBERGEN HAS THE BALL, HE TAKES THE SHOT, AND IT'S IN! IT'S IN! AUDIOSLAVIA ARE TWO-NIL AHEAD WITH TEN MINUTES TO GO, AND THIS MUST SURELY HAVE SEALED IT FOR THE BULLS! THE BLACK EAGLES, WHO FLEW SO HIGH, ARE BROUGHT BACK DOWN TO EARTH BY A TRADEMARK AUDIOSLAVIAN PLAY; YOU CAN'T BEAT THEM, SO OUTWIT THEM..."

The music blared, the seventh-ranked Audioslavians wildly celebrating their second goal. Stephen Kerr, on the bench, put his head into his hands, trying to blur out the sound of the music, of the cheers of the fans around him. The team had celebrated wildly when they'd realised they were through to the second round, but they'd all been brought back down to the ground when they realised they'd be playing two-time world champions...Audioslavia.

The cameras were, obviously, focused on the silver-clad Audioslavians; but when Stephen looked around there was a whole litany of expressions, he realised, that would never be caught on camera. Harry talking to Ian consolingly, whose misplaced pass had cost them the second goal. John, scooping the ball out of the back of the net. Phil jogging back to the centre circle for the restart, looking downwards. Even on the bench there had been a perceptible change in mood; and the thought that had been felt from when Olavi Kivela netted the first goal was now washing over them — their fairytale run had ended, and they were heading out of the World Cup.

Stephen's eyes, however, scanned the pitch. Searching for the one person he wanted to run to, to console, to see how she was feeling; and he found her, ponytail and all, head defiantly turned up in the air. A small smile crept onto his lips, tugging at his heartstrings. And that look confirmed what he'd been feeling, what he'd slowly been trying to accept Yes, he still liked her. No, he couldn't ruin their friendship, their team dynamic, by going ahead and telling her about it.

Then she turned around, and his heart sank; on Trudy Harrison's face was a look of despair, herself biting her lip; but still, even from the far side of the pitch, he could sense a lingering sense of determination; that things could still be turned around. Tumbra's World Cup adventure may have come to a close, but they were now one of the stronger teams in the world on that greasy totem pole that was the World Cup rankings; surely they'd be in with a shot of returning, even improving on their performance next time out.

All he had to do was to keep things as they were right now. The feelings would go away with time. Probably. Hopefully.

---

Chromia
Present Day

Stephanie
Online now

---

what the fuck do you mean by "I'm not in love with her anymore"
it's exactly what it says on the tin lmao. I'm just not in love anymore
fuck off. you see her every fucking day. that's not how this is meant to work. five minutes ago we were talking about you, me, helle and her all around the table with mom and dad, and we'd each tell them about who we're dating. well, me first, then you, of course, because they'd be so happy about you getting a girlfriend that they'd ignore that i got a girlfriend, and i'd be able to say that i came out without actually coming out
what are you, scared of mom and dad disapproving of you and her?
yeah. yeah, i am. i actually am, stephen, thanks for noticing that.
there's no need — c'mon, they won't care about that. they'd be more than happy for you. i can wait.
of course you'd say that, idiot, you've always been their preferred kid.
what the fuck?
okay, you know as well as I do that it's not true.
lol. easy for you to say. living god knows how far away and all. do you know how insufferable it is at home, how much they talk about you, while i'm just...there?
i don't know what to say.
you don't need to say anything.
it's just...y'know, i'm your brother. i wish i'd known earlier.
you get used to it. i know i did. it's just me getting frustrated at my plan going awry.
i mean, i could still bring her. lol. you graduate in a year. surely there'll be a lot to talk about.
won't be the same, will it. when you'd fall out of love, anyway? or are you just suppressing your feelings for her?
shit's not good. for both of you. i've seen it drive people away from one another because they just wouldn't talk.
so. talk to me, stephen. when did you fall out of love. how did you realise that you weren't in love with her anymore.
well, i realised that having these feelings wasn't good. for both of us.
why?
we're trying to win a title, steph, i can't afford having things like my feelings for a teammate ruin it all
bitch
you're fucking
fuck
fucking you're SUPPRESSING YOUR FEELINGS FOR HER
you're not not in love, you're just trying to bury your feelings and your head deep within the sand
have you been talking to her, at least. been doing things that normal friends would do. like hanging out and such.
...no?
so you've ghosted her. great.
i can't ghost her, we're literally teammates.
SOME PEOPLE ARE COLLEAGUES AND THAT'S LITERALLLY IT
YOU CAN GHOST PEOPLE WHILE STILL BEING COLLEAGUES
oh.
look, you used to tell me all the time about your chats with her and the things you two were doing. and now? shit's all disappeared. i had my suspicions...
things did get busy towards the end of the season, to be fair.
if you cared about the friendship, in any visible metric, you'd still talk to her, check in on her. what do you think she's feeling? the way you describe her it's like you're her only pillar of support. how long has it been since you were there for her?

---

Chromia
Capitalizt Chromatik Football Club

"Wait, you're...you're moving out? I thought you liked it here."

"Well, Trudy, you know what this place is like with its restrictions on visitors," Ami Coulibaly, Trudy's best friend and confidante at the club, mumbled while rubbing her left arm with her right, sheepishly, while retreating into a corner of Trudy's room.

"I mean, you got along just fine, before."

"Things...well...things've changed."

Trudy's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something from me, aren't you? You've gone missing more and more, and when I do see you, you've been staring at your phone and laughing."

"Well..."

"Are you...perhaps...seeing someone?"

"No!" was the immediate response, but the scandalised look on Ami's face gave the game away. She'd half-expected to see Trudy disapproving, but when she'd looked at her again, there was a kindly half-smile on her face. She motioned towards the bed she was sitting on. Ami sat down with Trudy, and the Tumbran took Ami's hand into hers, and clenched it.

"I'm happy for you. I really, really am, Ami."

"Thanks. It's just...I was gonna tell you that I was seeing someone, at some point in time, and that I was gonna move out. Living here isn't really...good...for a relationship, y'know? 'specially with the whole "no visitors after 11pm" rule."

"I get it. I do. You found a place yet?"

"Yeah, near the university."

"Is he...?" Ami nodded, confirming Trudy's suspicions. No moving in with her, then.

"I'll introduce you to him one day. We've gone out several times before, he's nice. You'll love him. It's just...I don't want you to be alone."

"I know," Trudy muttered darkly as she folded her knees into her chest. "I've lived alone myself before, but I didn't really enjoy it."

Ami put a hand on her knee. "I'm really, really sorry, Trudy."

"Don't be. It's just that...I don't necessarily like this place. It's just got people, and free food. Apart from that, well, it's shit, really," she laughed, half-convincingly. "Room's too small, shower's halfway down the corridor...sometimes I just wanna stretch my legs, y'know, live somewhere a proper footballer would stay. But then that comes back to, well, having nobody around."

"I get that."

"I wonder what living in a home's like. I've lived in so many houses — so many goddamn houses, Ami, you have zero idea — but none of those have ever felt like a home. Always alone. This, included. It's not home. This is somewhere for me to sit down relax, and sleep, and charge my phone. I just want somewhere where I can feel safe, and not, well, constantly on edge. Rent. Constantly being reminded of my responsibilities. I want somewhere where I can just let go, be myself. Stephen's house was that, but..."

"Talk to Stephen lately?"

"No. And that's the frustrating bit. Ever since that time we both got called up he's been giving me the cold shoulder again. I don't know if I did anything wrong, Ami, and at this point I'm not sure if I want to find out. It's just...ugh."

"I...I...how about we go house-hunting for you together? We can call up some agents, ask them to look for nice places somewhere out of the way. If you're going to be alone, you've got to be at least alone in comfort."

Trudy smiled. "Maybe it is time to move out, huh?"

"Yeah. I'll handle everything, Trudy, you'll just need to tag along."

"Thanks, Ami. Don't know what to do without you," Trudy said, as she embraced Ami.

---

Stephanie
Online now

---

Okay, so what have we learned today?
Communication is important.
Yes, communication is important. In any relationship, romantic or non-romantic.
That ghosting people is bad.
Yes, ghosting people is bad, and that's part of communication being important.
And that I should probably talk to her.
Yes, regardless of your feelings toward her, you should talk to her, because you two are still friends.
I...still don't know how I'm feeling, though.
I can't help you with that bit. Your feelings are your own.
But you said earlier I'm suppressing them...
I suspected you're suppressing them. I'm not saying you were. In the end you've got to deal with that. I'm here to provide advice and shout at you if need be, but really, I'm in Tumbra."
thanks.
lol. good luck. i know it'll be awkward. it always is, after a long time away. i know i broke up with helle for a bit and it was really awkward when i tried to talk to her again after a month or so. but if you have the heart, stephen, and the will, you'll get there.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 2
extra room

Chromia

"Nice place, isn't this, Trudy? Airy, lots of light, comes furnished, even," said Ami Coulibaly as she traced her hand on a countertop, the walnut-coloured table contrasting nicely with the whiteness of the rest of the room. "And it's relatively private. I know I'd have loved to get this place, but I didn't want his commute to be, y'know."

"I don't know, Ami. It still feels like it's missing...something."

"C'mon, Tru, this is the third house in three weeks. You've said that every time we've gone to these viewings. No house is gonna be perfect, we've just got to find one that suits you the most."

"If I'm going to be living somewhere long-term, Ami, I'm gonna need an environment that I can feel comfortable in. First house..."

"First house was too dark, which, okay, fair. Second house was too empty and too far from the Dome, which I would've understood if you didn't insist on taking public transportation, or the fact that you can fill it in with your own furniture..."

"I'm not ready for a car, Ami, and neither are you. West Chromia's pretty quiet. It'd be nice to stay in if it wasn't for the fact that, well, it's far away. And emptiness can't be solved with just furniture."

"Ma'am, I can assure you that this apartment complex offers top notch privacy and security. Your private life won't be intruded upon here. May I also bring your attention to the guaranteed parking space for any car you may wish to own," interrupted the property agent. This wasn't the first time they'd met, and he was getting fairly impatient over his latest client's continued vacillating over the different places he'd offered. "You...may also wish to know that I am running out of places to recommend, Miss Harrison."

"Right. Well, I'll need to make a decision soon, shan't I?" She turned to Ami. "When are you moving out?"

"Next week."

"Next week!"

"Well, it's the latest I could stretch it, Trudy. We've dithered about for goodness knows how long, now, and you're no closer to making a decision than you were, previously. Seriously, one house a week. The season starts soon, and the last thing you really want is to move in the middle of the season. You never know what happens on moving day."

"I..." Trudy opened her mouth, ready to retort, but Ami made sense. She had spent a lot of time on the decision on moving out of Chromatik's accommodation, but had come no closer to actually moving out than she had when they first embarked on house-hunting. She really just couldn't bring herself to move out; it was a reluctance, to move from somewhere that was active to somewhere that was just...her.

"Miss Coulibaly? Miss Harrison? I'm afraid our time is up. Shall we assume you will contact me when you wish to view another house or make a decision?"

'That'd be great," Ami answered on behalf of Trudy, who merely nodded meekly. They got up, and began walking to the door; but the property agent motioned to Ami, who obliged by moving closer to the agent.

"Miss Coulibaly, as I said earlier, I've got...not very many houses left to show."

"I get that. I'm sorry, Colby, she's just taking a lot of time right now. Moving out's difficult for her..."

"I understand, of course, but I also have a lot of other clients who are very interested in this particular property. So..."

"Yeah, I get what you mean. Thanks, Colby, as always. You're a gem." Ami nodded as she stepped out to catch up with Trudy.

---

Chromia, but in a cafe

"Property agent told me there are lots of people waiting to view the house, Trudy. So what'll the decision be?" They'd been walking in silence for a while, appreciating the rare Chromatik summer sunshine; in a country that was cold even by Tumbran standards, sun was appreciated. Their bright rays now filed through the windows of the cafe Ami and Trudy were sitting in; they'd decided to take a break to relax.

"I don't know, Ami, I really just...ugh. I don't want to live alone, but I do want to have my own space," Trudy said, looking more pensive. "I'm sorry for taking this long. Really, this is a lot of trouble I'm making you go through."

"Nah. What are friends for? And I get it. Could always consider rooming with someone new. Or with someone established, even. Doubt Kattie would turn you down," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Kattie? I'd hate to intrude on her private life. She's got a kid and everything, doesn't she?"

"Okay, if not her, then how about the others?"

"The others? I'd hate to...impose...on them..." Trudy took a sip.

"Okaaaay, then how about someone new? Tania? She looked pretty lost. Felswyr's about as far from Chromia as you can get. Drarinka, from Lanar?"

"Too old..."

Ami sighed. "Lilli, the new left winger?"

"Too intimidating."

"Too int—Trudy Harrison, you're not seriously going to tell me that you, someone who literally shouts instead of talks every moment she's on the pitch, and one of the highest-rated defensive midfielders in Chromatika, are intimidated? By a new left winger? Plus, she's like, tiny."

"Back in Kingsbury we had a phrase for these kinds of players," Trudy smiled. "Different gravy. That's what she is. Plus, she's from Nephara. That's the bit that makes her intimidating."

"Well, then I'm officially out of options, Trudy," Ami exasperatedly threw up her hands. "Bit strange wanting someone to live with someone and then rejectingevery candidate possible."

"I'm sorry. It's just that..."

"You're a lone wolf, that's what."

"What?"

"I said what I said. You're so used to living by yourself that you're too scared to try living with other people. Even if living alone makes you lonely. You gotta make a choice." Ami said, a worried frown on her face. "Live alone, and be lonely, but be satisfied as much as a lonely person can be, or live with someone else, and be known."

"Be...known?"

"Yeah. Be known by other people. Break down that tough, external wall you like to put up. Maybe let people know who you truly are." Trudy visibly winced at that last part. "Is...everything okay?'

"Yeah."

"So unless you've got someone you've known for a long time in this country, and they're willing to move in with you, then..." Ami's eyes widened, voice trailing off as she suddenly began scrolling through her phone. Trudy's noticed it, and instantly a sense of panic overtook her.

"Ami. What's going on."

"An extra room. Someone you've known for a long time. Not ringing any bells?" she said, while still scrolling.

And suddenly, the connections lit up, and Trudy's eyes widened, as well.

"No. No. Nonononono. Ami, you are not seriously thinking of —"

"Oh, but I am," she grinned. "You finally found out who I was thinking about. Took you long enough."

"I can't move in with him!" Trudy hissed. "Things would be so awkward, plus there's the fact that he's — well, he's a boy —"

"Let's face it — things can't possibly get worse than they are right now. And, who knows? Maybe this'll help things get less awkward. He won't turn you down. I guarantee it."

"He's a boy, and I'm a girl — the toilet situation —" Trudy started sputtering, the thought of living with Stephen making her brain go haywire —

"The solution's very simple. His house has two toilets, probably. Most definitely. Most houses do. Just get him to give you the room with the attached toilet. Or just force him to use only the toilet in his room. No stupid accidents."

"I-no-can't—" Deep down, again, Ami was making sense, but Trudy just couldn't handle Ami just straight-up saying it. Yes, Stephen would be a great house-mate, and Ami's suggestions to her problems were blindingly obvious solutions, too. Stephen wouldn't say no...

"You know I'm right. C'mon, Trudy, he knows you. He's willing to adjust his way of life for you, because quite frankly, before he ghosted you, he was possibly the sweetest person I'd ever met. Up there with my significant other, even. And I think he wants to make it up to you, too. Y'know, for staying away from you."

"Really?" She tried to mask it, but a sense of hope was making its way into Trudy's voice. To be able to talk to Stephen again...

"Why don't you text him? I'm almost certain he'd say yes."

Gingerly, reluctantly, apprehensively, Trudy took her own phone from her pocket, and began composing a message...

---

Chromia, but in Stephen Kerr's house

The late afternoon rays of sunshine were situated at an angle that, for Stephen Kerr, made watching television uncomfortable. Draped on the sofa, air-conditioning on full blast, he was simply enjoying and basking in the sunshine before he'd go out and have an evening run; but the rich yellow light from the floor-to-ceiling windows were making it difficult to watch.

He grunted, pulling himself out of his lying position, and turned off the television. It was all reruns on TBC World, anyway, and he wanted to stretch. Carefully making sure to not upset anything on the coffee table, he yawned as he got up, and raised his arms above his head. A cup of water awaited, but before he trudged to the refrigerator, he heard the jarring noise of a phone vibrating against glass.

Who could it possibly be? It was a weekend. Pretty much everyone in Tumbra was asleep. Cande, knowing him, was probably at the gym. Kamil didn't message people that often, and their relationship was more of a professional one than a personal one. He grabbed a glass, and was about to start dispensing water, when the phone buzzed again.

Fine, the water could wait.

He dragged himself back over to where his phone was, and picked it up; and immediately was shaken out of his semi-asleep stupor.

Trudy
Typing...

---

hey. uh, this seems pretty shocking and on very short notice, but
i'm looking for a place to live.
and like, i really don't wanna live alone
you've got an extra room, and so i was thinking
maybe i could move in? i'll help pay for rent and everything, uh, and like,
yEAH
*yeah
Yeah sure, of course. You don't need to pay rent, or anything. Lmao
Just let me know when you wanna move in.

The words escaped his fingers and were sent into the ether of cyberspace before he'd even had a chance to consider what he was signing up for. Why was she asking to move in? She seemed pretty happy at Chromatik's accommodation. The lingering questions he had, however, were quickly deafened by the surge of happiness that was coursing through his body; overjoyed, really, that Trudy was talking to him again.

It didn't hit him until his head hit his pillow that night that Trudy moving in would mean his life was probably going to get turned upside-down. Again.

[Tumbra]

IMPORTANT NOTE: This part was now written by me, but by a very good friend and long-time collaborator of mine, Chromatika, who has very kindly given me permission to cross-post his work here.

defender meets midfielder, Supplemental 2
the debate

With thanks to Tumbra, who's allowing me to write some of the background pieces that explain the world around the main story. This piece occurs after double debuts, which is Season 4, Part 2.

Capitalizt Dome
Chromia, Capital District, Chromatika

"I told you he'd do fine," quipped Kattie Will to an imposing young man with a severe face, who gave a curt nod.

Of all the defenders on Chromatik's roster, one stood out as the most serious of the bunch - the one that viewed himself with the most to prove. Raul Vitan was, in one word, intimidating; a no-nonsense, serious type who had a goal - getting on the Chromatika national team and debut as one of the Anomalies - and wasn't shy about getting rid of anything, or anyone, that was in his way.

"For one game, your statement has proved to be correct," he acquiesced, "But only time will tell if he's the answer that we are looking for to help our squad reach the top where we are striving to be."

"Aren't you putting a little too many eggs in the basket of a young player who's just getting situated?" chided Kattie. She had a soft spot for Stephen Kerr - she could see that he tried his best always, that he still had a lot to learn, and that he had that drive in him that made him a force to be reckoned with in the days to come.

"You know I mean the best, Kattie," answered Raul, "I just think there have been way too many people who say that they want to be the best but do not put in the work to make that a reality. Harrison (Trudy) has earned my respect. We'll see if her countryman, Kerr (Stephen), will as well. We know that the Skipper brought him to be the long-term replacement for Win (Cameron), but to work alongside myself, Ramirez, and Jernejec won't be easy. We play a physically demanding style for the defenders, you know - not just anyone can keep up."

Kattie looked at Raul with a bit of indignation but also understanding. Vitan was someone who had never garnered attention in his collegiate days at the Chromatik Collegiate Football Association, though arguably he garnered enough attention to end up being the starting Right Bakck for the Capitalizt; he knew just hard the competition was to get into the Anomalies, and he wasn't pulling any punches. However, this made Raul a subpar teammate, and Kattie wanted to nip that in the bud.

"There are better ways to portray that than just shoving it into people's faces. Use it to motivate, not aggravate. Provide examples of how people can improve based on your life experiences, don't just demand excellence. People may like hearing from different perspectives and motivations, but you have to give them a chance to receive." She hoped that her message got across - the last thing she wanted was internal drama at the club level.

Thankfully, Raul's expression didn't change, neither did his voice level.

"I respect you greatly," he answered, "You've been to where I want to be. If you think that's the right way to be, we'll give that a go. I'll give the kid a shot, and we'll see how he turns out.I don't mean anything personally, and I know I can come across as gruff or intense. I don't mean to." Then, seemingly embarrassed, he exited the room.

"I know, I know," said Kattie quietly at his retreating figure. The young man meant well. Hopefully, everyone else would come to recognize that soon before it was too late.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 3
moving day

Stephanie
Online now

---

wait
you what
She asked whether she could move in, and I said yes
ya'll talking to each other yet?
No...it's still pretty awkward.
Huh. That is really weird. You sure she asked you of her own accord?
What's with the capitals and sudden punctuation?
...because this is something I need to take seriously, for once?
What, my friendship with someone?
No, you IDIOT,
The plan. Right.
...sure, the plan. yeah, i'm interested because if it'll help make it easier for me to come out. yeah.
Right so uh what's weird about that? I'm pretty sure she asked of her own accord lol
Dude. This is huge.
Why?
Because she's taking the first step to try and fix your friendship, and because you're a fucking idiot who couldn't be bothered to do it by himself. You owe her, Stephen Kerr.
Ouch...
It's not my fault you decided to act like a blubbering idiot and ghost her the moment you figured out you may be in love with her instead of acting on them!
Well I didn't want my friendship with her to go awry!
And look at the mess that landed you in. Don't think that's any better than you confessing to her and becoming just teammates, isn't it?
sigh...
Don't. I swear to God, don't fuck this up. Fucking hell, if she leaves your life entirely, you'll have nobody else to blame but yourself.
Jeez, way to lay on the harsh advice.
it's only this harsh because you're stupid and you've never had this kind of a relationship with a girl before.

Chromatik Football Club

A warm morning was punctuated by the sounds of a suitcase being dragged onto the driveway of the Chromatik Football Club's lobby. Dragging the handle of the battered silver suitcase in one hand, a few boxes on the ground in tow, and carrying a pillow that just wouldn't fit into the boxes, Trudy Harrison looked and waited for the arrival of Stephen Kerr, who'd insisted on helping her move into his house.

She hadn't exactly figured out why Stephen had responded so quickly, or was so enthusiastic about the idea. All she knew was that she'd have someplace to stay where she could at least feel somewhat comfortable, with someone who knew her, and would probably leave her alone for the most part. She was dreading dragging everything down the Chromia Subway, however; it was a relatively long train trip to Stephen's place, and the thought of having to lug all this around the crowded subway made her feel exhausted already.

On his part, Stephen had offered to help Trudy with the moving; just that she needed to wait for him to arrive if she wanted to help. She had no idea why this condition seemed so specific; but on the other hand, she wasn't going to turn down help. For a moment, though, she looked down at her possessions. One suitcase, one pillow and two cardboard boxes tied shut with raffia string.

Two years in Chromatika and this was all she had to her name. Clothes, makeup for when she wanted to go out, some pairs of shoes, a few books, the picture she'd taken with her neighbours when she departed Kingsbury for the last time. Most people associated the life of a footballer with that of untold riches, one of extravagance, nightly parties and living the high life. Full of shock, scandal, deplorable and glorious; but never mediocre.

Somehow she hadn't gotten the memo.

ami <3
Online now

---

He arrived yet?
no...
strange. Can't have gotten cold feet, he's not that type of person.
how's your move going?
oh, it's going great. kang and i just got the keys!

A selfie followed, with a beaming Ami in front of her boyfriend standing in front of their new apartment.

ami <3
Online now

---

haha. cute. that the boyfriend?
yeah. one day i need to introduce you to him, he's such a dear...
But anyway, what time did he say he'd be there?
five minutes ago
that's not too bad...maybe he's just lost. Or the train got delayed.
trains all reading fine to me.
...you're really nervous about this, aren't you?
what? no.
relaaaax. i'm sure he's the same old stephen kerr that he always was before he decided to ghost you.
idk
just...it's like meeting someone you haven't talked to in a while. i mean, we basically haven't spoken until the world cup. surely you'd be nervous?
yeahhhh, of course, but you'll be fine. he's an awesome dude.
sure hope he'd turn up, though.

And at that exact moment, a silver sedan pulled up at the front of the car, and swept around the corner, stopping in front of her. The car door opened, and out stepped a confident young man, clad in blue jeans, a white shirt and a grey jacket. Hair immaculately tousled, the wind somehow decided to begin blowing to accentuate his of his already billowy hair. The most striking bit, however, were the gold-rimmed aviator glasses which sat perfectly on his nose, which the man took off, revealing the same dark brown eyes that Trudy had stared into that night in Z'ai'ai.

Trudy Harrison's heart skipped a beat, as she willed her face to not turn red.

"Sorry I'm late. First time driving to the club, got a bit lost, and Chromia's roads are a bit of a maze," he said, flashing a disarming smile.

There was no response as Trudy Harrison tried her best to maintain her composure.

---

On the expressway
Still Chromia

"You never told me you'd bought a car..."

"Decided to use my year-end bonus to invest in one. A nice midrange car, not too flamboyant, y'know? But one that's relatively low-maintenance."

"I didn't even know you could drive."

"Oh, that. Decided to take lessons after I—we came back from the World Cup. About the same time I decided to buy a car, y'know? It was expensive and all, but using public transport to get around Chromia can get a bit slow."

In the passenger seat, Trudy tried her best to get comfortable to the new car. It was very new — it'd smelt that way, and the air-conditioning was on full blast, trying to get rid of the summer heat which had invaded Chromia. Stephen's aviators were doing well keeping the sun out of his eyes, and he looked barely bothered by it as they rocketed down the expressway. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the beat of the song playing on the radio, he looked at home behind the wheel. This wasn't the Stephen Kerr Trudy knew. Maybe he'd grown. Maybe he'd changed...

"Don't you think you're going a bit quickly?"

"Eh, I want to get you settled in by today. Moving's a big deal, y'know?"

"I've been to your house before."

"It's been...a while." The veneer of confidence seemed to melt away as soon as he'd mentioned it, and the atmosphere in the car palpably changed. An awkward silence soon fell upon the duo.

"Yeah. Yeah, it has," Trudy slowly said, wanting to do anything, anything to break the silence. Was it too delicate a topic to broach when they were still on the way to his house? Or...was it the perfect moment to talk about it?

She decided it wasn't. The old, confident, unafraid to speak her mind Trudy Harrison was...shying away from confrontation. Somehow.

---

Stephen's House
Later in the day

Stephen had surprised Trudy — or at least Trudy thought he was planning to surprise her, because he barely made any mention of it when he showed her to her new room — with a set of the new sheets on her bed. She wanted to ask him how much he'd spent on her room, and how much she had to provide since she was staying here, but he shrugged off all her questions and began cooking dinner for the two of them. He'd tried to sound chipper — Trudy found herself fixated on him as he was lifting both the boxes she'd brought along — but deep down she knew he didn't feel that way.

Was it guilt for basically stringing her along, ignoring her for basically the latter half of the season unless it was absolutely needed? Was it him still building up walls, or did he just not know how to bring them down?

Would things ever be the same for them again? Trudy gave up unpacking her clothes, and sat down on her bed; looking at the setting Chromia sun, the brilliant red illuminating the sky in various shades of it. She'd sit there, thinking, before a knock on the door interrupted her.

"Hey. Dinner's ready," Stephen said, softly, delicately, afraid of intruding on her.

As usual, Stephen had cooked up a feast. But dinner was a quiet affair, a far cry from what they were like the last time the two of them were sat round the dinner table. She kept stealing glances at him when she was sure he wasn't looking, trying to figure out what he was thinking. Anything, anything at all.

Unbeknownst to her, he was doing the same.

---

Night

lynne
Last seen four hours ago

---

nobody in particular.
but
he’s actually the first person i could actually see myself with.

And now I've moved into his house. I'm living with him. What was I thinking when I sent that to Lynne? Granted, she doesn't care, probably, thinks it's a throwaway statement or other; but it's not really about her, now, is it? It's...me. Do I believe in this? Do I truly believe that he's the only person I could be with? Well, I guess I did — I can dream, alright? But now...

I don't know how he's feeling. I kinda wish he'd talk to me. But then I'd have to talk about how I feel about him, as well. Oh, God. Am I in love? I can't be. This isn't love, is it? It's a stupid crush. But that's something too, isn't it? When he pulled up in his car this morning, that self-confident smile on his face...I don't know. I don't know why I asked to move in with him. This was a stupid decision. I can't believe I've actually done this.

But it's too late, now. God, why did I let Ami talk me into this? All for somewhere to stay? I bet he doesn't even care. He went to bed super early. Looked sad throughout dinner. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why is he like this? He can't have feelings for me, I'm his friend! Or at least we...used...to be? Are we still friends? I guess we are. He wouldn't let me stay in his house for free, and...buy these sheets...if he didn't see me as a friend, did he? We can't go back to being strangers. He's...all I really have that ties me to home, no matter how much I hate it.

And he's a pretty nice guy. From the day I met him...

---

Nigel (Anomalies)
Last seen recently

---

What I recommend you do now is that you...take some time. Feel it out — is it really love or is this just infatuation? You’ve just moved to a new country, you’re alone for the most part, you’re lonely, sometimes. It’s not surprising that you’d feel this way towards someone who you’re spending a lot of time with. Because you know them.
Give it a bit of time. If you’re still conflicted, feeling like this, in a bit of time
And I can’t say for sure how long, because love’s this stupid thing that nobody really has gotten their heads around
But trust me, you’ll know. One day, it’ll all clear up, and you’ll realise whether this person is who you’re truly in love with. And then all the feelings — the nervousness. anxiety. all of that, Stephen, it’ll melt away. And if you’re really in love, that’s what you’ll feel. Clarity. That’s what you’ll feel.
And that’s the most important bit.

God, Nigel. I wish you could help me. Here I am, with the girl I used to like — yes, I used to like her, but now I can't, because it'd utterly ruin our friendship and the team — just one room over. How would she react if I told her everything? That I decided to stay away because I was scared of how I felt? She'd probably laugh.

I can't like her. I can't. Not romantically. I put her away for the greater good — for Jannick, for Kattie, for...the club, really. I need to step up, and the last thing I need is for my own thing, my feelings, not even for another player — my team-mate — is to screw everything up. We've got the perfect team. I can't ruin this. Not while we're on track to win.

But I want to be selfish. I want something for myself, in a world where my life is being taken away from me, and I'll probably never have control of it unless I'm within these four walls. I want to be able to control my own feelings, and I want to be honest with her.

I want to say "I love you, Trudy Harrison," to her. I want to tell her the truth, the whole truth, and even if she tells me she doesn't see me that way, which, I'll admit, she probably doesn't, I'll at least have gotten something off my chest. Every time we talk, I keep thinking of how I've treated her. And I hate it. I wish I wasn't a coward. And it'd be so easy for me not to be. All I'd need to do is just slip it in somewhere, just tell her the truth, get it off my chest, stop thinking about it, and apologise for how dumb I was.

But then what would happen? And what after that? How would Jannick react? Cande? Kamil? Cameron? Kattie? Would she approve? Would anyone?

[Tumbra]

IMPORTANT NOTE: This part was now written by me, but by a very good friend and long-time collaborator of mine, Chromatika, who has very kindly given me permission to cross-post his work here.

defender meets midfielder, Supplemental 3
the ideal Tumbran

With thanks to Tumbra, who's allowing me to write some of the background pieces that explain the world around the main story. This piece occurs after moving day, which is Season 5, Part 3.

Brown: Alistair Farheni, 21, Junior at Chromia Central College University, Majoring in Political Science. Diehard Chromatik fan since he was thirteen years old.
Green: Lars Georgeheim, 20, Sophomore at Chromatik State University, Majoring in Mechanical Engineering. Relatively new Anomalies fan since Season 2 of the Red League (about five years).
Sky Blue:: Sandra Karse, 21, Junior at University of Myana, Majoring in Cartography. Her family owns a share of the Myana Football Club, and hence she's an Islanders fan.
Pinkish Red:: Lee Kyung-Hyuk, 19, Freshman at University of Wirr Tsi, Undeclared. Diehard Omnio fan (and often ridiculed for it).

The Jade Garden
Chromia, Capital District, Chromatika

It was hard to believe that just six years ago, the four of them had been involved in the same Aeronautics Club at Central Heights High School that had drawn them together to be such good friends. Now, all of them could drink, they were all in different universities, and they still made time to get together ever year in the summer before going their separate ways.

Like most Chromatiks, all four of them loved sports; and like most friend groups in Chromatika, all of them liked different clubs. Alistair was as diehard of a Chromatik fan as they came, sharing the cost of a season ticket with his older brother, Charlie; Lars had jumped on the Anomalies bandwagon during their threepeat, and was starting to feel the aftereffects. Sandra and Lee were together and doing long-distance during college, which made things interesting when Sandra's father, Mr. Lenny Karse, had partial share in one of the most successful clubs in Chromatika while her boyfriend supported one of the lovable minnows, the Techies of Omnio.

It made conversation fascinating whenever they got together at the Jade Garden, one of the best sports bars in Chromia. Tonight, they were discussing the best player of a certain nationality to play in the Red League. Some of them were easy - Enrico Hanson-Conavacio had everyone else beat from Quebec and Shingoryeo, while Justiina Dannysdóttir and Sara Kristoffersdóttir got split votes from the table on who was the better Græntfjaller, with both Alistair and Lars refusing to give Dannysdóttir the vote due to their rivalry, which was pointed out as petty, but so such talk went. Mithya Hashemi won the vote for the best Squornshelan, while it was difficult to determine which Nepharim was preferred - each of them all had separate favorites. Brenecia was best represented by Kendra Carpenter... And the list went on.

However, when the bartender, engrossed in their conversation as they were three drinks in each, threw out the question of who was the best Tumbran? Then, things got really interesting.

"Hey Frederick," said Alistair firmly to the bartender, "I'll give you a 20 NMS tip if you play judge. Try to stay impartial - we all know you're a Roadie so you've no skin in the game - and whomever gives you the best argument, you declare the winner, all right?"

The bartender nodded, smiling.

"It's obviously Nigel Erskine," started Kyung-Hyuk, cutting off Lars by a small margin, "The man single-handedly kept the Techies afloat for another season when we had the best chance to go down. Did you see that game he had against Chromatik? Omnio needed every one of his goals that season, and the fact that he went from Omnio to a team like Anomalies in such a short time just tells you what kind of a player he is. He's a hero for the Tech, and always will be, and that kind of reputation isn't easy to come by."

"Definitely not when your team sucks so bad," expressed Alistair, "Can't believe you guys are still up here. Actually, I can't believe you haven't hopped onto the Shock bandwagon yet. At least I can give you kudos for that."

Alistair offered his glass for Lee to clink, and Lee did so with a wry grin.

Lars was the next to speak. "I agree with Lee for once. Erskine was brought in to play next to Lainey, and provides some things that she can't do. Sure, we may be struggling as a whole, but it's not his fault, and his addition to the squad has given us a player we can build around once she goes."

Alistair frowned at Lars, commenting, "Can't believe you just agreed with Lee on a footballing matter, man. You're right, Erskine is pretty good. But he's no Trudy Harrison."

Sandra rolled her eyes.

"One of the first female footballers from her country, comes to a foreign nation, has the starting Defensive Midfielder - a national caliber one, mind you - go to a different team just to give her a chance to play, and she's turned out to be one of the best young footballers in the Red League. Plays a huge part in getting Kerr here - he's decent, too - and will be one of the primary architects of why my team, Chromatik, will finally win the title this season. Trudy. Motherf'ing. Harrison." With that, Alistair chugged the remainder of his drink with a flourish.

"Oh, I love watching Trudy," admitted Sandra, "But you know what's more impressive than that? Taking a team in a middle of a transition and placing them right back in the Top 5. Taking players like Marko Zup who hadn't spent a full season starting, getting someone like Katerina Olexander, who could turn out to be one of the best keepers the league has ever seen, and impressing a fanbase that's used to winning titles. No, Marco Hemmings is the best Tumbran in the league, and he isn't even playing in it."

"Oh, Managers don't count!" exclaimed Lee, "Otherwise, I've to try to make a case for Steve Nicholls and it's not a very good one..."

"Just stick with arguing for Erskine with me, man," chided Lars, with even Alistair and Sandra nodding.

"So?" Alistair asked Frederick the bartender, who was refreshing his drink of jack and coke, "What do you think?"

The bartender shrugged, smiled, and answered, "You've all got pretty good points, but I think that Harrison is the best in her role, while Hemmings' work in Myana is remarkable."

"What kind of an answer is that?" shouted Lee, "That's not really an answer!"

"At least," said Sandra, calming down her boyfriend, "We can say that we have some damned good Tumbrans in the league. Neal Diamond isn't shabby either, you know. We're lucky to see so much talent."

"To that," agreed Alistair, "We can lift a toast. To all the Tumbrans of the Red League - without whom the league would lose a coat of its vibrant colour."

"Said like a true aspiring politician," jabbed Lars, lifting his glasss.

"Hear, hear," agreed Sandra, following suit.

"I still think Frederick doesn't deserve that NMS!" stated Lee as he lifted his.

And with that, the four friends clinked their glasses in celebration, enjoying their time with each other discussing a sport that they all loved.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 4
life together

i. hedgehog's dilemma

As unwieldy and as uncomfortable as the arrangement may have seemed for Trudy, they'd soon settled into a natural — if slightly awkward — rhythm. They'd learned to live with each other, Trudy becoming a bit comfortable with leaning on Stephen for help around the house, while Stephen got used to, well, having someone else in his private space. The heavy conversation about what had gone on near the tail end of last season still hadn't occurred — Trudy suspected Stephen was doing everything possible to stay away from broaching that topic. Both of them were seemingly content with the fragile, transparent walls they'd built up to guard themselves against hurting each other more.

The walls may have been transparent, they may have been fragile, but they were still walls. And when one of them tried to break some of the walls down — Stephen trying to engage in casual conversation during dinner, or Trudy asking Stephen to watch television together — the other would put up more walls in kind. Trudy would respond with short, noncommital answers at the dinner table. Stephen would sit on the sofa and watch, but sit a fair distance away from Trudy, and typically only for a while before leaving.

It was equally frustrating for both of them. Even when both of them went out on the rare occasions that they did — to buy food, or go jogging together, or just to chill — there was nothing. The spark had gone. Stephen would retire to his room extremely early in the night — he'd told Trudy that the house was free for her to use, and that he'd keep himself to the bathroom in his own room — leaving Trudy with nothing to do except stare out into the bright lights of Chromia, until she decided that she was bored enough to go to sleep. The season was starting soon, and somehow things felt worse than how she'd envisaged them being. If anything she'd preferred when Stephen still treated her as a team-mate and was somewhat distant, but still professional enough to not stir any suspicions from the rest of the squad. This?

Eh...

She'd talked to Leysa for a bit about this, but she ended up being just as puzzled as Trudy about Stephen's behaviour. Trudy had conveniently omitted what she'd done — stirring up a bit of guilt within herself, but why should she put in effort if he wasn't — but Leysa told her to keep trying to break through; and if it didn't work out, there was always the option of moving out during the season. Nobody was keeping her at Stephen's house; the only thing preventing her from leaving was herself. Lynne was more direct; she should go. She also brought up the concept of the hedgehog's dilemma; evidently inspired by some Kandorese animated television show that on the surface seemed to be about piloting giant robots, but somehow ended up being about the state of the human psyche and depression. Either way, it didn't really seem applicable to her situation; a group of hedgehogs wanting to be closer to each other but their spines ended up hurting each other when they moved close. In the end, they'd kept themselves at a distance, close enough such that they'd be able to share warmth but not too close that their spines would prick each other. It was all very abstract, but Lynne insisted that Stephen and Trudy's situation was somewhat close to that; but Trudy just couldn't see it. So Lynne just went back to telling her to move out.

Deep down, however, Trudy knew that if she decided to move out, it was game over for her and Stephen. There was no coming back from this nadir if either of them — well, it really was up to her, since Stephen had made very clear she was welcome to stay, and he'd never kick her out — decided to throw in the towel. And despite, on the night before the first training session of the season, her instincts telling her to just say "fuck it," leave Stephen behind and move into a small apartment in Chromia where she would be alone, but with the only person who truly understood herself, she decided to stay.

ii. feelings (reprise)

Stephen didn't know why he'd accepted the request from Trudy. It was objectively the right thing to do — a friend needed a home to stay, and he'd offered up his home — but emotionally it'd sent him into another spiral. Here she was, the girl he loved but was forcing himself to not love, staying in his house, and being in his life far more than she'd ever been before. Even after Zeta Reka, during the lull in which he'd shown her around Straton. Even after his first time visiting Chromatika. Even after he'd moved here.

But it'd been a while since she'd moved in, and Stephen felt like they were going nowhere. Deep down, he knew this was his fault. He was, after all, the one who'd withdrawn from her, afraid of accidentally blurting out his feelings to her or harming whatever they'd had up to their point, and sending their friendship into the spiral that resulted in what they had today. Yes, she relied on him to do pretty much everything around the house — the one time she'd tried to do the laundry when he was out, he returned home to a washing machine overfilling with soap suds — but she still tried to do everything by herself. The result was the two of them basically living parallel lives in the same apartment, which was deeply torturous for Stephen.

He'd sorted out his feelings for her, properly, this time, and yes — finally, he knew that he was in love with the girl who'd bounded into his life, made him pay for a waffle, began the chain of events that led to gender equality in the Tumbran league, appeared in the World Cup 88 opening ceremony, ate bibimbap with him on a train, basically convinced him to become team-mates with her. He knew. There was no longer any stammering, or any palpitations, or any sweating, or any ghosting. All he felt was calm.

As Nigel had said so long ago, that probably meant he'd finally sorted out his feelings. Now he needed to find out what she felt towards him. But that was difficult. Even though they lived under one roof.

He'd talked to Ami, and they'd both come to the conclusion that, yes, Trudy was very much a lone wolf and that she was very much keen on doing things by herself, and that it was difficult for her to get in touch for her feelings. Stephen didn't know how to help, however, just hovering around the house, the awkwardness becoming too much for him too bear. He'd talk to her during dinner, but she'd always responded with responses that killed the conversation; and when she invited him to watch television, the two simply watched in silence until one of them — typically, always him — couldn't bear it anymore and retreated to the safety of his own room. Surely, when the season began, things would get better; they'd have more to talk about.

If they didn't...well, then perhaps whatever they had was at an end.

iii. circles

"Haven't you got training tomorrow? I mean, what happened to my advice to get a full nights' worth of rest before training?"

There was no response from the hoodie-clad teenager, bar a sniffle.

"Really not feeling it, huh?"

"No," came the croaking reply.

Leysa Burns of Wirr Tsi smiled comfortingly, and Trudy Harrison looked back up at her, leaning her head onto the older woman's shoulder. She could sense Trudy was tired, and needed someone urgently; and that was the reason why she'd made the drive down from Wirr Tsi down this late at night. She could tell that her ex-mentee needed her emotional support right now, and even though they were on teams that would be directly competing for the title, that didn't let her need to look out for Trudy get in the way.

"Why's he gotta be like this?"

"We both know why, Trudy," she whispered, putting her arm around the teen and soothingly rubbing it, trying to comfort her. "He shied away because he liked you. Lots of people do that."

"I still don't know why."

"Why what?

"Why he didn't just tell me."

"How would you have responded, back then, if he'd told you that he liked you as more than a friend?"

"I don't know, Leys..."

"See? That's reason enough for him not to have done it. Unless he was absolutely sure you would've said that you felt the same way, he wouldn't have said anything. He'd have kept it holed up, holed inside him, until it went away. Him staying away from you was by design; he probably wanted his feelings to go away, because you two, first and foremost, are team-mates. And professional footballers."

"But that's already happened."

"How do you know for certain?"

"If what you're saying is true, he wouldn't have let me stay at his place."

"That's because he saw you as someone who needed help, not as an object of love, or whatever. His need to see you under a roof, even if it was his, outstripped his desire to keep you as far away as possible. You were someone who needed help. He was merely offering it."

"But why would he?"

"Because, deep down, no matter what he might say, he still loves you."

"Really?"

"You're not making it easy for him to tell you that he does, though," Leysa said with a knowing smile on her face. "Don't think I don't know you've been stonewalling him, too. You're making him run around in circles. He's going to give up one day, you know."

The two sat in silence for a while, looking at the twinkling Chromia skyline from their place of relative silence on the park atop a hill, the whoosh of the cars below on the expressway punctuating the silence.

"Why do you build up these walls, Trudy?"

"I don't want to get hurt."

"You can't trust the person who's been by your side for the best part of four years?"

"I did. It's why I'm here, now."

"I've made my case for him."

"Well..."

"...you don't know how you feel towards him either, don't you?"

"...No."

iv. just friends

Red League Season 8, Matchday 9: Chromatik vs Wirr Tsi

"And there it is, the final whistle blows — and Chromatik have triumphed over the Shock, one goal to nil, to cap off the defending champions' horrible start to the season. A far cry from where they were, with as many losses now as they did last season — three, for those keeping track — while Chromatik have only fallen once. It's Cixin Ngyuen's strike that separates the two..."

A dream start to the season for the Capitalizt, with eight wins and just four dropped points to occupy pride of place atop the Red League table. For Stephen Kerr, the plaudits had been coming in; none more so than today, when his defensive performance against Chromatik had denied Artem Kohut a single chance on goal, his performance giving them a clean sheet.

He didn't know what happened that night when Trudy decided to leave the house after dinner, and returned very, very late at night, but all he'd known since then was that she'd been considerably friendlier to him. They'd been going out again, doing the groceries together — and she'd even tried her hand at cooking. Granted, the food wasn't that good, but it was still worth something. They were healing.

They hadn't told anyone in the squad they'd moved in together — Ami had been sworn to secrecy — but someone had to notice soon. Stephen was ferrying Trudy to and from Chromatik's headquarters, and the excuse that they were carpooling would only go so long. Eventually, the penny would drop; but Stephen would have preferred it to be anyone but Raul, the combative right-back, to unearth the news and let him know.

"Stephen. Can I get a bit of your time?"

"Mm-hm, yeah, Raul, what's up?"

"Listen," he said, leaning in. "I know, I know, you're young and you're looking for love. But don't you think it's a bit too close to the heart of the club to move in with a team-mate?"

"Uh...what?"

"Really? Trudy moved to your place at the start of the season, didn't she?"

"How did you know?"

"Well...it's not that hard to guess."

"Sure, Raul. What're you getting at?"

"I know I gave you a bit of a hard time when you first moved in. I know now, you're not that kid, and you're entitled to have your own relationships. You wanna date a team-mate, sure. But, please. Don't let your relationship get in the way of our title challenge. Alright? You heard the story of Gabriella Antonio? Moved to Nephara, fell in love, got pregnant midway through the season, had to retire."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Raul. Trudy and I aren't in the kind of relationship you're thinking of. She just lives with me because she needs a place to stay. That's it. We're just friends, just team-mates. Nothing more."

"If you say so, Stephen. But...keep my words in mind."

A wave of emotions ran through Stephen's mind as he turned and exited the mens' changing room. How did Raul get to know? And if he knew, how many more of the squad knew? Did this mean that Jannick knew? Did everyone who knew just operate on the assumption that the two of them were in a relationship? And —

Turning one corner, he found himself staring into the bright blue eyes of Trudy Harrison, with a look of disappointment on her face. Was it disappointment? Resignation? Something else entirely? His eyes widened as he tried to figure out what to say. Had she heard the conversation between Stephen and Raul? The walls of the Capitalizt Dome's men's changing room were somehow notoriously thin.

Before he could say anything, however, she gave him a half smile and excused herself to head to the women's changing room further down the corridor.

v. i fell in love with you one night in...

Once again, she was lying awake.

Once again, she didn't know how she felt.

She knew what Leysa had said. She knew, that no matter what, that Stephen loved her. It was obvious the moment she'd been told, really; the twinkle in his eye had come back, the moments of genuine happiness they shared together. Running. Doing the groceries. Their car rides to and from the Chromatik training rounds. She now knew that he was in love with her, but did she feel the same way?

The waffle. The rooftop. The comforting when she'd frozen in front of the media. The guidance he'd given to her. The time they'd spent in Straton. Their first hug, when she broke the news that she was going to Chromatika. The time they spent together in Z'ai'ai, the time spent looking into each other's eyes for that stupid photograph. The message to Lynne, when she finally allowed herself to say what had been on her mind for a long time, but hadn't dared to say. That he was the first person she could ever see herself with.

But hearing Stephen say that he wasn't in love with her still made her feel a pang of...jealousy? Sadness? She'd heard everything, really; when Raul first mentioned her name while she was outside, she knew immediately that something was going to be said. She knew, of course, that Stephen wouldn't dare say that he liked her that way.

But hearing him say that they were just friends still stung. And she didn't know why it did. Was she angry at him for denying it? Was she sad, having to hear him deny it despite obviously not telling the truth?

Or was the pull on her stomach triggered by those two words caused by...something else? Feelings that she didn't want to acknowledge, but existed? The solution, of course, was blindingly obvious to her, but she tried her best to test everything else out. Maybe she just wanted to be friends. No, otherwise she wouldn't have felt that way when he said those words. Maybe she was just pissed at him for lying. But that would mean that she'd wanted him to say the truth, but why? Unless...

Maybe she was in love with him, too.

[Tumbra]

IMPORTANT NOTE: This part was now written by me, but by a very good friend and long-time collaborator of mine, Chromatika, who has very kindly given me permission to cross-post his work here.

defender meets midfielder, Supplemental 4
the true story

With thanks to Tumbra, who's allowing me to write some of the background pieces that explain the world around the main story. This piece occurs after life together, which is Season 5, Part 4.

Chromatik Capitalizt Training Facility
Chromia, Central District, Chromatika

It was a cool day in the Chromatik autumn, right before the days started getting cold; though it was the day after the match against Wirr Tsi that Chromatik had put away - to improve to 7-1-1, which was spectacular form for the early going of this season - Raul Vitan was right back out on the practice pitch. He'd make sure to take it a bit lighter today, only go about half-speed, but he didn't like taking a day off after match day. It disrupted his rhythm, and with a game in Lanar coming up, with a chance to increase the early season lead, he was determined as ever to keep form and make sure that he was in top shape.

To his surprise, he wasn't the only one there. It wasn't normal to see a goalkeeper training by themselves, but everyone in Chromatik had gotten used to seeing one Tania Vincent training by herself. Sprinting from corner to corner in the net, doing reaching drills, going through scenarios in her head - the new keeper recently from Felswyr for a fee of 10.5M NMS, a steep fee for a domestic transfer - Vincent was another self-made player who loved to work for it, and Raul respected that.

As he raised a hand to acknowledge Vincent, she waved and motioned for him to come over. He counted that as strange - she'd never done that before - but as they played together, he didn't think much of it as he jogged over.

"Morning Tania," he said sheepishly, "You played brilliantly yesterday - didn't expect to see you here."

"Just going through the paces," she answered in an even tone, "Like you, I guess."

Raul considered himself to be a decent-looking fellow, though he was aware that his intensity and drive drove off most people. However, as he looked at the six-foot-five, well-built woman with steely blue eyes, bleach-blonde hair, and long arms, he became aware that she wasn't afraid of him nor considered him to be any sort of threat. This was new - everyone was always at least wary of him, but to Tania Vincent, Raul Vitan might as well have been just another kid.

"Did you want to talk about anything?" he asked, trying to not show that he was intimidated by how she was handling the situation, "You motioned me over."

Then, he recognized that by explaining why he was asking that question, he was conceding the fact that it was instead he that was nervous, or being intimidated, by her.

"I saw you yesterday," she started, her gaze meeting his (which made him inadvertently look away), "Talking to Stephen (Kerr). Now, mind you, I didn't mean to overhear, but you should know that when you're in the middle of saying something in that lecture-like tone of yours, your voice carries. You said something to Stephen that was completely false, and I wanted to give you a chance to go apologize and tell him the true story."

Raul swallowed nervously but managed to stammer, "I have no idea what you mean. Everybody knows why Gabriella Antonio retired - it's because she got pregnant and had to go have the baby. After that, she wasn't good enough to play again, so she didn't."

In one instant, Tania Vincent was in his face. Raul Vitan couldn't remember the last time anyone had been in his face.

"Excuse. Me?" she said, venom dripping from her voice, "Gabriella Antonio, arguably the best left winger in Chromatik history, retired because she wasn't good enough to play again after one baby?"

He found himself backing up behind those words, and before he could say anything back, she was on him.

"Gabriella Antonio quit because she wanted to quit. She hated the fact that the Chromatik national team was being used for a political agenda. She hated that her first Manager, Franscesca Larriet-Cortes, was martyred. She joined Lisa Amos in the thought that politics using footballers was crap - do you think that Amos is a washed-up Manager, too? By the way, in case you forgot, Amos has been going on for more than ten years in the Nepharan Premiership and now Zenith at the top level, so drop that if you even think about it. So, she found someone at Coret who looked at her as a person - as a woman, if you will - and not as a footballer, and she decided that happiness with Lethbridge was worth more to her than her career."

Tania Vincent paused for a second, but before Raul could even say a single thing back, she held up a finger as if to dare him.

"She didn't quit football because she got pregnant, Raul. She got pregnant because she wanted to quit football. She chose family and personal happiness over the sport she loved and a life in the limelight. Do you know how much guts you have to have to arrive at such a conclusion? Are you aware of just how groundbreaking that was? How many young women look up to Gabriella for the decision that she made?"

Raul was floored. He was many things, but he was also a man who knew when he was beat.

"I admit I don't know Antonio personally," he acquiesced, trying to disarm Vincent, "And my perception may be skewed as that of a fan who was sad that one of his heroes left the game that he loves. I apologize."

The words, "I apologize" rang through the air, and Tania Vincent took a step back.

"Thank you for saying that," she stated, a bit less tense, "And I'm sorry if I'm coming on a bit strong."

"How do you know that the story you know is true, anyway?" Raul couldn't help himself asking, "I can't help myself.

She looked at him sympathetically, and answered, "I'm good friends with one of the best defensive midfielders that Chromatika has ever produced - no, not Leysa Burns."

After he looked at her blankly for a few moments, she responded, "Kaia Larriet-Cortes. Franscesca's niece. She has all the stories, and Gabriella's is one of her favorite. She talks of Gabriella often, says that she visits whenever she's able to."

"Fine," Raul responded a few minutes later, "I'll tell Stephen that the story is wrong. I still think that teammates falling in love with each other is bad news, but I guess if it becomes a problem, they'll pay for it, right? We'll just have to hope that it doesn't cost us."

"Raul? Let me give you one last piece of advice," Vitan said, exasperated, "Stay in your own lane. Take care of yourself. Let them take care of themselves, and if their play falters - check that yours isn't faltering as well, and then give them actual actionable advice that isn't 'stop seeing each other'. Got it?"

Raul couldn't do anything else but nod.

As Tania started to lace up her shoes to run another set of drills, Raul couldn't help but find himself actually relieved she was done talking to him.

"Oh, and Raul?" he flinched as she added one final jab, "If you don't tell Stephen and apologize within a week, I'll tell the true story to him myself, and you'll be both an idiot and a jerk. So that's up to you."

With that and a flip of her hair, she was gone, leaving a stunned Raul Vitan wondering just what had come into his life.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 5
what spring is like

Barely a week had passed since Raul had given him the stern talking-to about dating Trudy, and already Raul had approached him after their next game against Lanar, telling him that he was wrong. About Antonio. Not about the rest of what he said, though he seemed rather sheepish throughout their entire encounter. She'd apparently retired on her own accord, not because she'd gotten pregnant. Or something. Either way, the encounter had confused Stephen greatly, though Kattie had basically already told him the full story. Tania Vincent, the goalkeeper, did look noticeably more smug over the next few days afterwards, and had told Stephen to not worry about Raul. Whatever that meant. The feelings didn't go away, though.

Not in the least because it'd thrown him back into self-doubt over whether he was ever going to come clean to Trudy about his feelings. Every night he'd try and psych himself up for it, and plan meticulously how exactly he'd do it — over breakfast, or during a walk in the park, or on a midnight drive — and he'd share the details with Nigel, who'd enthusiastically approve of everything. But when the time came to actually do it, and tell Trudy exactly how he felt about her, he faltered. He lost his nerve. Not just because he was scared — yes, he was scared, and had to take fifteen minutes to recover from the sudden increase in his heart rate the first time he tried — but because Raul's words had launched fresh doubts over how the team would take it if he and Trudy started dating. He suddenly wasn't sure how the team would respond to their new dynamic, if it happened, and asking anyone who might be privy to this information would be dropping a few too many hints on how he felt about Trudy; and that would set off a whole new set of alarm bells.

The heat of summer (well, hot for Chromatik standards, anyway) gave way to the red-and-orange hues of autumn. And while he could feel their relationship healing — there were smiles and laughter around the house again, replacing the frigid silence — he still didn't know how Trudy would take it if he just...confessed. Would she be the one, this time, to pull out the "professionals and team-mates excuse"? She certainly didn't seem to be giving any hints, though he had noticed she was looking at him somewhat differently these days. She'd become more...touchy, certainly; a bit more physical contact, be it adjusting his hair when they were going out to training, whacking him in jest when they were watching comedies, or whatever.

Either way, the team were heading into mid-season strong, though their form had faltered somewhat. A loss to the once-mighty Tihon had made them stumble, and that one loss was quickly followed up by another defeat to Urrheddiao, of all teams — Tania having somewhat of a nightmare as Stephen watched from the bench — but they'd rallied against Tor, even if their defence was still leaking many, many goals. Stephen began feeling a bit of the pressure, and was getting angrier with himself with every goal he was giving up; Trudy tried her best, at home, to try and make Stephen feel better, but to no avail. Not even the present of a slice of lemon cake on his 21st birthday could do anything for him; he'd gone to bed early that night, and when Trudy woke up the next morning she found him working out early in the morning, music piped into his ears, an angry look on his face.

Not that it would help. In a key match against Myana, Stephen faltered once again when trying to go in for a tackle on the seemingly forever-17 Nadya Dostoevich, and it cost him; Nadya would score, and Stephen's confidence was shot. He was pulled off before the hour mark, and could barely look Jannick in the eye when he trudged back to the benches, even though Jannick had put a comforting arm on his shoulder as he went off.

A 3-1 victory against Anomalies would round off the first half of the season, and even though Stephen was disappointed at the clean sheet disappearing — a Nigel kick to Lainey Wandsworth, where he again had hesitated in going for the tackle — a win over their biggest rivals was always comforting. And as the season decamped for its winter break — the first crystals of snow had begun falling one morning, much to Stephen's abject surprise — they were top of the table, but only just. Well, it was four points, but Chromatik couldn't afford to be playing with fire at this stage.

Christmas came, Christmas went; Stephen had bought a plush bear for Trudy, while Trudy bought some wine for Stephen (she didn't know what to get for him), and the season restarted. But despite a clean sheet against Omnio to start off the second half of the season, the heavens opened with goals against Ming — where they won by one but conceded five goals — against Brisara, scoring an eye-watering eight but conceding an equally eye-watering four — then another four against Crossroads, this time ending up on the losing side, and another four against Lhor.

The snow would clear, and the greens of spring would break through, but the defence still felt hopeless. Each time Stephen gave up a clean sheet he got more and more angry, and Trudy felt more and more hopeless in trying to help him. All questions of love had been definitively pushed to the back of his mind. There was no time for that; he had to stop Chromatik from conceding so many goals, and he had to stop the relentless criticism of the Chromatik defence that had been coming from...pretty much all corners. There was only one way out, and it was to work hard. And harder. And harder.

---

Chromia

"I'm too tired to cook. We'll just have to order in again. Ugh," Stephen murmured as he sat down at the dinner table, forearms glistening with sweat after finishing yet another workout.

"Don't you think you've been doing this a bit too often, Stephen...?"

"What, not cooking?"

"Sure. And the fact that you're working yourself too hard."

"It's not too hard if it's going to save our season."

"You're not going to be able to singlehandedly save our season, Stephen," a lump forming in her throat as she tried to get him to see reason. "Maybe it's the tactics, or it's just pure dumb luck, or-or-"

"I wish I could say the same."

"You can't shoulder the team's worries on your shoulders, Stephen. It's not healthy. For you. Or the club."

"Look. Every time I turn on the TV to Red League coverage and they're analysing the games they're going Stephen this, Stephen that, he could do better, he should commit, he should've made this run, whatever. All they're talking about — all they care about — is what I could be doing. Never anyone else. I've got to get better, and the only thing I can do is, well..." Stephen motioned to the workout area in the living room he'd installed. "After dinner I've got to get back to it."

"You're hurting yourself. You're hurting me, Stephen. I'm worried for you. You might get injured—"

"I won't."

"I don't know. Look, does it matter if you miss out one training session? Look at me, Stephen, and tell me the answer. We both know the answer is no. Let's do something tonight, please. Something that's not...that." Stephen looked up from the countertop, into Trudy's eyes; who seemed to convey a whole emotion on their own. But it was the same — pleading, telling him to stop overworking his already exhausted body.

"Fine," he grunted. "What do you wanna do? Teach you to cook again?"

"I was thinking...a movie. Something that wasn't TV."

"I'll pick," a hint of a smile returning to his face, something Trudy hadn't seen in a long time. "The one you picked last time was really boring."

---

"What's this one?"

"What Spring Is Like."

"Just need to look round, really," Trudy said, giggling at her own joke. "Spring this year's cold, though."

"Yeah."

"What's it about?"

"It's...I'm not sure how to describe it. The TubeFlix description says it all, really. Chose it because it seemed easy to follow."

"If you say so..."

The two of them sank onto the sofa, ready to watch the movie; and in the darkness they watched the scenes flick by. It was an easy film to follow; the two protagonists had a meet cute in a faraway, wintry country. The boy had never seen spring before, and he was sickly, and the girl had to return to her home country. They kept in touch, but it was difficult...

God, it's cold. I wonder if he'll notice if I...scooch...over...

Her heart was beating in her chest like a steel drum, mortified at the show of intimacy that she was about to exhibit; and she had no idea whether he would push her away, like he did so long ago. There was no harm in trying. If she was going to get him to try and tell her his true feelings towards her, she had to be more forward with him, less ambiguous.

"You cold?" Stephen whispered.

"Yeah," Trudy whispered back. Stephen put a warm arm around Trudy, while Trudy made herself comfortable, her head resting on Stephen's chest.

God, why'd she have to put her head there? I wonder if she'll notice how hard my heart's beating right now. Why is my heart beating so quickly, anyway?

"You're too sick to make the journey, Jacob..."
"I don't care, Christine. I've nearly lost you. I don't want to lose you again..."
"I'm not. I won't. I won't leave you behind."

Should I press it? Why not. Fuck it. His heart's beating so hard. I've waited long enough. Four years.

Trudy moved her head slightly, taking her focus off the screen, and looking up at Stephen.

"Would you do the same for me?" she whispered.

"Of course," he whispered back. "I'm not losing you."

"But then why, why did you run away all the way back then?"

Stephen froze. He'd moved one hand of his to Trudy's mane of hair and had begun stroking her head, but the sudden line of questioning caused his hand to stop, trying to compute what exactly was going on right now. Stuttering to find the right words, he eventually choked out a response.

"I didn't want...to lose you."

"We came so close to losing each other, Stephen."

"That...that we did." The hair-stroking recommenced, but slower. None of their attention was focused on the film, now. Their whole world, their entire life, had been leading up to this one moment.

The only question was who was going to bend first.

What's she getting at? Asking me that question out of the blue.

WHY is he so STUPID I'm LITERALLY DROPPING HINTS FOR HIM RIGHT NOW

"But why?"

"I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared I'd lose you."

"But why would I go? You never did anything wrong."

Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.
She's trying to get me to confess, isn't she? But what—what if she doesn't feel the same way towards me?

FUCKING SAY THE WORDS AND I'M YOURS, ASSHOLE

Yeah, I'm not saying the words until she says them. The game's on.

"Jacob, I'll be with you. Always. To the ends of the Earth."
"Christine...I..."

"Would you stay with me? Always?"

Oh, no, no, no. I'm supposed to be the one in control here. I'm going to have to play along. But I'm going to come out on top.

"Yeah." Trudy reached out to grab Stephen's other hand, and squeezed it.

"I know. I've always known, Jacob, I've always known. And..."
"Y...yeah?"
"I've always wanted to say this, Jacob..."

"What are we, really?"

"We're good friends."

"Just good friends? Nothing more, nothing less?"

"I don't know about anything more, Stephen...What about you? What are we? In this one moment in time, where it's just the two of us, what are we to each other, really?"

"How will I know, unless you tell me?"

"But you should have an answer ready..."

"And if you don't feel the same way?"

"Then we move on. Together. You really think it'll change anything? Because it won't. Not for me. Not anymore. You're Stephen Kerr, the defender extraordinaire, winner of the Di Bradini Cup, Under-18 World Cup, and who knows what else in the future, really? The possibilities are endless. Olympics, Eagle's Cup, Campionato...maybe one day, even..."

"Shh...don't jinx it," Stephen said, putting a finger on her lips. "So what are we? To you. You tell me and I'll tell you."

"I don't know what we are, Stephen. We've been through so much together. Ups, downs, ups again. You said you were scared, Stephen. Scared of losing me. Were you afraid you'd lose me if I didn't like you back?"

HOW DOES SHE KNOW

"I put the team and our careers ahead of...what I felt, Trudy. I was scared I'd lose you."

"So you did like me."

"Well...after all we'd gone through..."

"And now?"

"I...I don't know, Trudy."

"Not even in the deepest bits of your mind? I know how I feel. What about you?"

"If you're so certain, why don't you tell me?"

Ugh. This has gone on for long enough.

"Well, I'm not afraid to say it..."

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 6
in other words...

"...I love you, Stephen Kerr."

"What?"

Trudy's face rapidly went red, as if she couldn't believe what she'd just said. That, or she was getting mad at Stephen for not hearing what she'd said properly. A punch on the arm confirmed it was the latter.

"I said what I said, idiot!"

"No, no, say that again. I-ah-"

Did she really just say it? Am I hallucinating or did she really just admit to me that she loves me?

YOU ARE SO FUCKING ANNOYING

"I..." She sat up and looked away, embarrassed by the words she was about to say. Steeling herself, she looked Stephen straight in the eyes; and repeated the words slowly, letting each one linger, as if to drive home the message. And after that, she sank back into the sofa, defeated, but with a curious look of expectation on her face.

The walls were broken, the waves of emotion came rushing through, a tsunami of thoughts racing through the mind of Stephen Kerr. Here was the girl he liked — no, loved — telling him that she, too, loved him — all the questions, answered, all the doubts he'd had, cleared, all the thoughts, gone, safe and secure in the knowledge that yes, the girl he loved did love him back — and all he could say in the moment, looking at her expectant face and hopeful eyes, hoping that she hadn't read the situation wrongly, was...

"Really?"

He was still stuck in the mirage of thoughts, unable to react to the pillow that was thrown into his face by the girl sitting on the other edge of the sofa, then the girl climbing over the sofa, storming off to her room...

...but his instincts took over.

"Hold-wait-no-don't-Trudy-I-I-I-I love you too. I l-love you. So much. I really do," he stuttered, clambering over the sofa and trying to reach her before she reached her room.

She turned back, a smirk forming on her face. Her smile widened as she turned back towards him, and slowly, surely...

"What?" was the reply, her quiver in her voice contrasting with the biting sarcasm that she'd just said. "Could you say that again? I didn't quite catch it."

Stephen gulped, palms sweaty, as the words emerged from his mouth, clearer this time, and slower. The smirk grew into a genuine smile, and she bounded forward and embraced him, burying her face into his chest. Taken aback, he didn't respond verbally; and whatever words she was saying, if any, were lost to him; all he could do as he put his arms around her was try and isolate one of the thoughts, running through his head — that the girl he loved was in love with him, and now she knew that he did love her — and all he could do was close his eyes, feel Trudy's long embrace on him, live in the moment — before she gently withdrew from it, smiled at him, and glided through her door.

Alone again in his house, all Stephen could do was slowly move through the motions of getting ready for bed.

Though sleep wouldn't come.

---

The moment Trudy Harrison returned to consciousness, the bright rays of sunshine peering through her window, her heart beat returned to the frantic pace it'd been when she said the words to Stephen. She hadn't imagined the events of last night, right? She'd watched a movie with Stephen, and then, in the heat of the moment, they'd drawn close together, and they'd finally spilled their feelings towards each other. And finally, finally, she'd gotten the answer that she wanted to hear, the official confirmation of what she'd come round to realise since that night in the park with Leysa — that yes, Stephen Kerr was in love with her. And all it took was for her to confess first, because she'd grown tired of the charade of waiting, and because waiting for Stephen to confess would be like waiting for her to be accepted by her fam—

That had happened, right? It wasn't some crazy dream that her brain had concocted up. She checked her phone, her message history betraying nothing. She hadn't messaged anyone about the events of yesterday. Not Ami, not Leysa, not Lynne, nobody. Apparently she'd fallen asleep really quickly last night. Either that, or she hadn't thought of messaging them before she fell asleep. Huh. Maybe it did happen.

After changing from her sleeping clothes, she gingerly peered outside the door, looking for any signs of life. None, but there was a gentle sizzling coming from the general direction of the kitchen. Plus pancakes. The smell of pancakes...it was too much to resist. She walked out of the room, trying to act like everything was normal, and turned the corner to see Stephen in the kitchen, saying nothing and fully focused on the pancakes.

Okay. Gotta act natural. Gotta act like nothing happened and see whether he does anything.

She made a big show of yawning and stretching as she walked into the kitchen, getting Stephen to react to her. A huge smile followed, before he set the last pancake on the plates he'd prepared for the two of them — and then put the pan down, walked straight to her, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he mumbled. "I made pancakes for us. Didn't have a waffle iron, unfortunately."

Okay, I'm not dreaming, I definitely felt that kiss. Wait, did he just — okay, don't act like anything strange happened

"Morning..." she mumbled back. "Man, last night was wild, huh? I can't remember...a lot of things."

Stephen's face dropped, the smile disappearing from his face. "O-oh..."

"Did we really both confess to each other? I..."

"Yeah. Yeah, we did," Stephen gulped, sitting down at the table. "You've not...changed your mind, right?"

"Nah. I just wanted to make sure that it actually happened, and that it wasn't some...dream. But...just to make sure..."

Stephen laughed. "No, Trudy, it wasn't a dream. I do love you," he shyly said, avoiding her gaze, cheeks turning red. "You...you do, too, right?" A hint of panic entered his voice.

"Yeah. Of course, Stephen. I love you."

The visible relaxation on Stephen's face caused a giggle to inadvertently escape from Trudy, which made Stephen very cross for a moment; but they soon laughed it off. They spent the rest of the meal in silence, stealing glimpses at each other; and genuinely, for the first time in a long, long while, both of them were fully honest with what they felt. It was...refreshing; a weight had been lifted off their backs, and now things were...perfect.

Whew. So it...was true, after all.

But what now?

---

Stephen's Car

"Okay. So. When did you, y'know..."

"Fall for you? I don't know. I guess the first time I really realised it was during..."

"...the CFF session with the Reds?"

"Yeah."

"Explains you freezing up when you tried to hand that orange soda over to me."

"Don't remind me. God. But I think the first time I really looked at you differently was...actually, I'm not really sure. I don't know when I fell for you."

"Typical."

"Hey!"

"Me in the black dress during the World Cup opening ceremony. The two of us after Lhor. Winning the Di Bradini Cup. Winning the Under-18 World Cup. You mean to say you didn't feel anything, anything at all?"

"...Not really. What about you, then? When did you realise that you were..."

"In love with you? Really, not that long ago. A few months ago, before the Wirr Tsi game, I talked to Leysa. She drove down, we had a chat...and she helped me through it."

"...Ouch."

"I'm not finished! Well, that was when I properly realised I had, well, feelings for you. When I thought more about it, though..." Her voice trailed off.

"...Yeah?"

"The first time we met, properly, I had you marked out as something special. Someone...different. Most of the boys didn't give a shit about our existence back then. Some even questioned us. We were ignored. You..."

"Mm-hm?"

"You were the first person who cared. Really, truly cared. That day in Kven? When you properly walked into my life outside of any football context? I was snippy, I was rude...but I kept thinking about it. Kept thinking about you. And I knew you were someone worth my time. So. From the very, very first time we met. I didn't know it then, but here we are. With each other."

"Damn. That's...that's...wish I could answer more. My answer just sounds dumb in comparison."

"Don't sweat it, Stephen. It's okay. As long as we both know we're in love with each other, everything will be fine. Or I hope it'll be, anyway."

"So long as we're here for each other? We will be." He brought the car to a gentle stop, pulled the handbrake, leant over — and kissed her on the forehead, again. "It'll all be fine," he murmured. "You go up first. Gotta bring up some stuff from the car."

---

They were next to each other again, on the same couch where they'd confessed their love to each other. Trudy was leaning on Stephen's chest, Stephen running his hands through Trudy's hair, playing with it; both watching the sun set over another day in Chromia. They'd said remarkably little to each other across the day; but words weren't needed. They understood.

But there were still some things that needed to be said.

"So...we've got to make some choices."

"Yeah?"

"We both want to keep this going."

"Mm-hm," Trudy said, adjusting to make herself more comfortable.

"What if the world finds out?"

"Then we'll face it together, Stephen. You and me."

"But I like it this way. Just the two of us."

"Mmmm...then we'll just have to keep things on the down low. Then we can keep it that way until one day we decide to go public."

"Sounds...sounds like a plan. And life will go on as normal. Except..."

"Except?"

"Except you're free to come sleep in the same bed as me now. If you want to, of course."

"Gross."

Scarcely three nights had passed, however, before Trudy awoke from a bad dream she was having, walked over to Stephen's bed in the other room and collapsed into it.

She didn't return to her bed the next night.

Or the one after that.

[Tumbra]

IMPORTANT NOTE: This part was now written by me, but by a very good friend and long-time collaborator of mine, Chromatika, who has very kindly given me permission to cross-post his work here.

defender meets midfielder, Supplemental 5
the motivator

With thanks to Tumbra, who's allowing me to write some of the background pieces that explain the world around the main story. This piece occurs around the same time as what spring is like, which is Season 5, Part 5.

The Sun Kissed
Capital District, Chromatika

The Sun Kissed was a popular outdoor café in Chromia, one that was popular enough to have regular clientele even during the rapidly approaching winter. They had the sense to have outdoor heaters and awnings to cover the comfortable seats, and an owner that knew when to move everything indoors if the weather called for it. Thankfully, it was a brisk, cool day, and Ami Coulibaly was happy enough to enjoy one of the café's numerous fruit juices - apple mango, a curious mixture that she particularly enjoyed - as she read the dossier for the upcoming match against the Anomalies U-18s squad.

As a player who played both in the Youth League and in the Red League, Coulibaly's minutes were limited - Chromatik weren't allowed to use her for more than 120 minutes a week, both leagues combined. This meant that she usually played for 75 minutes in the Youth League and was taken off just in case something happened to Raul Vitan; not that it ever had - as Raul kept himself in shape and was one of the more durable players Chromatik had - but Jannick Kontiola wasn't one to take chances, and Coulibaly was okay with that.

Anomalies U-18s were a team that had a route to get to the Youth League title this year as well, leading to Coulibaly looking at the report intently, to where she didn't notice a figure step up to her. Lee Kang-Hyuk, Ami's boyfriend of two years, approached her cautiously - he knew her well enough to interrupt her when she was concentrating on something - and sat down quietly next to her as to not draw attention. It took Ami a further three minutes before she recognized that someone else was next to her, which made her start until she noticed who it was.

"That didn't take as long as you thought it would," she commented, "Did Professor Whiteworth let you guys go early or something?"

Lee was a Sophomore at Chromia Central College University, and a Chemical Engineering Major. Professor Alissar Whiteworth was known in the Engineering department for being a menace in the Engineering Department; though she knew that Lee blew things out of proportion sometimes to get sympathy from her, he wasn't the type to bemoan without reason.

"The old codger does have a heart after all," he answered evenly, "Told us we'd been doing a stellar job and gave us the weekend off. I came here as fast as I could, traffic outstanding. Did you wait long? He reached over and used his six foot, four inch frame to give Ami a hug, causing her to blush.

"Nah, not really," she brushed off, "So, what shall we do today?"

"I got two tickets to the cinemas," he provided sheepishly, "We can go see that new movie starring JoAnna Hans Ericksson that we were discussing the other day."

JoAnna Hans Ericksson was one of the three most famous actresses in Chromatika, specializing in action/spy thrillers, and the two were big fans.

"You mean, The Sound of Darkness? I thought you didn't like movies that could be potentially scary," commented Ami, a surprised look on her face.

"I mean, if I get scared, I can just hold onto you," he replied, squeezing her hand.

She blushed again, but before she could reply, he changed the topic.

"So, how did it go with your friend, Miss Harrison? Did the ploy work?"

Ami looked at him with a bit of surprise, before realization swept over her face.

"Yep, worked like a charm. She moved in with Stephen - that's the idiot that couldn't make a move - and I reckon it's just a matter of time," she responded, smiling at the thought of the two awkward lovebirds. "Thanks for agreeing to the idea, by the way."

He nodded slowly, before responding, "You know, we should come up with a plan of what to do if she asks to come over to the place where you and I are both staying."

Her eyes darted to him immediately, as she responded, "What do you mean? Are you suggesting..."

"That you actually move in with me? Yes, I am. Campus housing allows for couples, even with someone who's not a student. We can make it work."

She gazed at him lovingly, before saying the one phrase that he had somehow forgotten in his teenage brain.

"But what about my parents?"

As he stammered to find an answer, she reached out a hand to pat him on the shoulder.

"We'll figure it out together," she offered, and then the two of them picked up their drinks to head off to the cinemas.

Perhaps it had been a ploy to get the Tumbran couple together, but it was galvanizing their relationship was well - and that was probably, overall, a great thing.

Now, about those parents of hers...

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 7
the champions

Five points off Wirr Tsi with five games to go. One win in the last five — against a lackluster Knetyohai — had perhaps papered over a run of bad form. The common adage in Tumbran football — which held mostly true in football, really — was that if the gap between two teams exceeded the number of games left to play, then there was no chance of meeting that gap. The last five games of the season — against Tihon, Urrheddiao, Tor, second-placed Myana and local rivals Anomalies on the last day of the season — would prove vital if Chromatik ever wanted to win their first title in Chromatik history.

It had become a sore point for them — the biggest club in the biggest city, backed by some of the richest people in Chromatika, and spending heavily almost every season — and yet they had zero titles to their name. It was their bugbear, something that had always been used against them by rival supporters. Anomalies had the threepeat, and Crossroads had that one time they beat Chromatik to the title. They'd come so close, yet so far in the modern era; but here they were, having to be content with their one cup win during the days of the Chromatik League.

But for the two nascent lovebirds, football had taken a bit of a back seat to their burgeoning relationship, despite the two of them promising to put their careers first. It was unavoidable, really, no matter how hard they'd tried; because the two of them were now happy. Both of them had found a person in each other who loved them, accepted them for who they were, and for Trudy, someone she could feel really safe around. She hadn't felt this way since leaving home all those years ago, and even before then, she'd never really felt like she'd belonged anywhere.

Now she did. It was the little things — the kisses on the forehead, the hugs from behind, them whispering sweet nothings to each other at night, huddled under the blanket, before they fell asleep in each other's arms — that helped her feel safe. This was their two-person world, and they'd both grown to hate leaving it when they had to go and train, but it was a sacrifice they had to make. The cost of secrecy. But they were in love, and that was all that mattered to them.

The Tihon game changed all that. A storming hat-trick from the defensive midfielder Oscar Vincent, of all people, left the Chromatik defence disappointed when he scored a late equaliser in the eighty-eighth minute; leaving the team utterly lost. A fuming Cande Montalban would begin shouting at the defence in the changing room, with the Mytanar Kamil Jernejec coming to Stephen's defence; but it took the intervention of Robin Padilla and Cameron Win to separate the two of them, who legitimately looked like they were going to go to blows at one point. Kamil had urged Stephen to forget it, but Stephen understood; Cande had, after all, rescued them from so many losses, and seeing one more of his goals go to waste would probably have made Stephen angry, too. Their total for goals conceded now stood at fifty-four — twice that of league leaders Wirr Tsi. Seven points back with four to go; was their title challenge over?

Back to the drawing board it was, then; they'd try and play slightly lower next match, against Urrheddiao. And it worked — the back four no longer felt as much pressure, and they shut Urrheddiao out. Whether it was because Urrheddiao's offence just wasn't that good or whether the defence had actually shaped up, nobody knew; but it was an improvement over the many times they'd let so many goals slip through their fingers.

It all came back down against Tor; but they held strong enough this time, only letting in three and relying on the offensive strength of Lili, Cixin and Adrijana to keep them up. It worked; a two-goal margin separated them at the death, with Stephen popping up with a header to give Chromatik the advantage. He held himself back from celebrating too hard with Trudy; though the look in her eyes showed just how proud she was of him.

The game against Myana would end up being one of their finest performances; with former Tumbran manager Marco Hemmings giving the two a nod of appreciation and recongition after the game. Trudy would run the game, running everywhere, setting up essentially everyone; and this time, Cande's goal wouldn't go to waste...and somehow, just somehow, they'd managed to put themselves in contention for the title again.

They'd need Myana to try and pull off a blinder against the Shock.

They'd need to face off against Anomalies. And Nigel Erskine.

---

"Nervous?" Trudy quizzed Stephen. He'd been quieter since they'd returned from the training session. Here they were, lying in Stephen's bed, Trudy watching TubeFlix while Stephen was staring into the ceiling.

"I guess," came the quiet reply, that was confirmed by Stephen turning his back towards Trudy.

"It's Nigel, isn't it?"

"Mm...it's just that he's always scored against me. Always. He's a friend, but...hah. Somehow he always knows what to do."

"That's why Kamil's dealing with him tomorrow."

"I guess. But I'm not sure how it'll go. We could win the title, but it's not in our hands."

"Just because it's not in our hands doesn't mean it won't happen. Football's a funny sport, you know."

"Considering it's how we met..." Stephen smiled gently as he turned back towards Trudy.

"Exactly." Trudy beamed. She grabbed his hand, squeezing it to reassure Stephen. It'd become a way of telling him that she indeed loved him. Random moments, throughout the day, when she'd just come over to him, grab his hand with both of hers and squeeze it, and smile. "If the two of us could find each other through this game...then winning the title's definitely a thing."

"Maybe."

"C'mon, dork. Let's go to bed. No point in worrying so much about Nigel."

"If you say so." Stephen's gentle smile faded away into something that was a bit more tired. All he could think about when falling asleep, however, was not about the best way to shut down Nigel, but rather how lucky he was to have Trudy by his side.

---

Anomaly Tower
Anomalies FC Home Stadium
Minute 55 of 90

“"Tensions running high, still; we're nearly an hour into the match and the scores both at the Anomalies Tower and the Islander Dome are still nil-nil. If things stand as they are, Wirr Tsi will win the title on two points; Chromatik have to win their game against Anomalies and hope that the Shock drop points against Myana to be able to win their first title."
“Chromatik here have dominated the game for the most part, heavy pressing on the part of that midfield trio of Harrison, Nguyen and Burkhard keeping Anomalies from having too much of the ball. Iskender Nur, though, is the first and only reason why scores are still as they are. They are level with Chromatik because Nur has saved almost every shot that has come his way."
“You can see it, Marcus, in the way that Chromatik have been passing; they're looking for a way through. It's not desperation by any means, but it is very much higher-tempo passing from the Capitalizt; and there goes another misplaced pass. Chromatik aren't normally one for this kind of play, aren't they?"
“Jannick Kontiola, there, on the sidelines, waving furiously; telling his team to slow down, and be patient. And there's no reason why they shouldn't, let's be fair; they've still got an hour. Time is still on their side, and according to expected goal metrics Chromatik should be up three-nil by now. At least. There's the stat."
“Hold on, I think we're getting something from the Islander Dome - and yes, Wirr Tsi have extended their lead to four points in our live league table. It is, of course, Kendra Carpenter, the Brenecian star who's broken the deadlock there. Myana are one-nil behind, and the gap is now four points; and I think Kontiola will want to have the news not reach his players..."

The ball rolled out of play again, Trudy not being able to break out of the Anomalies press fast enough to reach the ball. Stephen turned to the fans behind, who were all looking rather worried, clutching radios to their ears; and immediately he got the sense that something was wrong. He looked back towards the touchline; there was Jannick frowning, of course, but as he waved away the aide who'd come up to him, he realised immediately that they were now on the back foot. Dropping back, jogging to take his place for the throw-in, he once again found himself near Nigel.

"Nigel."

"Stephen. Bit of a tough game, huh? For both you and me."

"Yeah, well, if your goalkeeper didn't suddenly fucking turn into Rowena Stride all of a sudden —"

"Mm-hm. No idea where Iskander's pulling this form from. It's working, though." He grinned.

"Bastard, you."

"Hey. When we're on the same team, wearing black, then we'll talk about it. But for now, when you're wearing teal and I'm wearing black, then my team comes first."

"That's fair, yeah."

The throw-in was taken quickly; a tough shield from Stephen as the ball was thrown in the direction of Nigel saw the ball bounce onto Nigel's leg but off it as he was unable to take control of it; and Stephen took the ball, quickly passing it away to Kamil, launching another attack from the defensive line. A sigh of relief — not too loud, or people would hear — followed, as he ran back next to Kamil.

---

Minute 81 of 90

Utterly bushed, Stephen and the defence found themselves pushing further and further upfield to try and box the Anomalies in, and keep play confined to their area. They were lucky the midfield was dominating play; a rogue pass or a misplaced long ball and it would be up to a very tired Stephen Kerr or a thirty year-old Kamil to try and chase the Anomalies attack. But it was working. Anomalies was under pressure; they were slipping.

“A very, very high line from Chromatik, here; as we've discussed many times on this show, previously, it's been the source of quite a few of their defensive problems. But with nine minutes to go, it's time to throw all caution to the wind, isn't it? This is your last chance. Do or die."
“No team's ever won a title by being overly cautious. Even the most defensive of teams have the most brilliant of moments, the sole moments that shine through."
“Montalban picks up the ball from Schlok. It's on side, yes, the flag's down; there's nobody to pass to, and he's not interested in passing, anyway; so he takes the shOT-oh, and it's parried, but it's rebounded, another superb save from Nur; and everyone's scrabbling for it; and words simply can't describe what's going on down there right now, but Harrison gets there first, and she can't afford to take multiple touches, she simply has to go for it —"

Stephen had stayed back, but even then he could see what was going on; Montalban's shot had been parried again, frustratingly enough; but everyone was out of position, and Trudy had simply run up to the ball. He'd seen this happen before. She wasn't one to take shots, or try and finish, but everyone in Chromatik knew that her curve was better than she gave herself credit for —

Trudy's adrenaline was pumping, sending her nerves into overdrive; she wasn't thinking anymore, simply acting on instinct. The ball was coming towards her; she was the closest player towards it, and she needed to get to it; whether it was offside or not, she didn't care, nor was it the time to worry. She ran. The world around her slowed, sounds merging into one. She reached the ball, pulling her leg back for a first time shot. She never liked shooting, but this wasn't the time to care about whether she liked doing something or not, doing was better than not —

Time seemed to stand still as the ball was launched into the air, curving and dipping in the direction of the goal, destined for the top quarter; for Iskander Nur, the saviour of Anomalies so far, he simply had to get to the ball. But even as he leaped, he knew it was too late; and as the dull sensation of the ball brushing his two longest fingers hit, he knew that it simply hadn't been enough, that he'd finally been beaten —

Seven year-old Tricia Lee's father had chosen this game to be his daughter's introduction to the club he'd supported since he was young. It was a bit weird, all things considered; most parents typically bled their kids in through bringing their kid to a home game, free from the hostile atmosphere. But here was a match that didn't come very often; the chance to see his club finally win a title. Tricia had clung to her dad for most of the match, scared and amazed by the atmosphere in equal measure; and had nearly begun crying at all the noises; but had largely abated after he'd put her on her shoulders to watch the game. She didn't really understand what was going on, of course, but years and years from now, as the ball went flying past Nur's fingers, landing in the back of the net with a solid thunk, she'd properly understand that what she'd just witnessed was a life-changing moment.

Capitalizt Chromatik had done all they could. Now all they could hope was for that wily fox, Marco Hemmings, to pull something out of their back pocket.

---

Islander Dome
Minute 92 of 90

This was not the end of the season Marco Hemmings was expecting.

Yes, it was going to be near impossible to land in the Champions' League next season; a task made even more impossible with Chromatik scoring, meaning that they could at best finish second if they'd somehow scored two goals in the time left. It was difficult, but at least a draw would salvage some pride here; them losing to the top two teams in the league wouldn't have been nice, and he wondered how safe his job was if the season did just end like this.

Quietly willing his players on while sitting, stony-faced, on the bench, Marco observed Zup — the young Rekan he'd built his midfield around when given the job — hit a beautiful long ball straight into the Shock's defences. It wouldn't go anywhere, but at least it was a corner; the ball hit Ipati Aimee's shoulder before bouncing out of play. Zup rushed over to take the corner — which was strange, since he didn't normally like taking them — but he floated it into the penalty area beautifully.

Convince Zup to take corners, etching a quick scribble on the clipboard he always held. Myana weren't the best at corners, but they always had the height advantage from Jens Clemence; the mass of black hair easily rising above a few other players. Still, though, he wasn't sure about what would happen.

Jens Clemence's head would meet the ball, full on; and he'd direct it past Kathie Begley, leading to wild cheers from that bit of Myana's stadium; but he didn't properly run onto the field, celebrating with his players, until the cannon sounded. Might have been strange for a manager to celebrate a tie-breaking goal, but he'd salvaged a draw. That, for now, was enough.

---

Anomaly Tower
Full Time

They'd done all they could. Jannick had gathered them round the substitutes area, waiting for the result of Myana versus Wirr Tsi. The celebrations for winning a Chromia derby had been more muted; a few of the players had gone to appladud the supporters for showing up and really bringing them the win today, but the Capitalizt supporters were staying still, all following the Myana game, hoping, hoping for that one goal.

Then they were delivered.

The cheers from Capitalizt supporters was enough to confirm it, the notifications on their phones showing the news following shortly after. Kontiola began celebrating wildly, secure in the knowledge that they'd done it, they'd just secured their first ever Chromatik title on the last day of the season, in the dying embers of it. The rest of the squad celebrated, too, now that they'd finally, finally broken the curse, and now had a title to call their own. It was a weight taken off their collective shoulders, a duck that had been broken; and now was the time to let it all out.

Stephen and Trudy took the opportunity of the noise, everyone focusing on everyone else to slip down the tunnel; into a nook they thought was far enough away from everything, and they leaned their heads against each other in silence. Trudy squeezed Stephen's hands as they leant against each other, enjoying the relative silence and each other. They'd come through it all to finally, finally deliver a title; and all they wanted right now was to get away from it all. It was risky, of course, doing this here; but they didn't really care, they'd won the title, and as Stephen leant in to Trudy's lips...

"Er-hem."

And just as suddenly, they were snapped out of their reverie. The tall figure of Jannick Kontiola stood in the tunnel, face obscured by shadow but mood obvious, said all that needed to be said. He shifted somewhat uncomfortably, perhaps unsure of what to do in the situation. Trudy hid behind Stephen, still holding on to his hand; Stephen made himself look bigger to try and cover her, though it was too late.

"We were looking for you two. For a picture."

"R-right."

"Though it seems that there are some things...we may need to discuss."

No response from either of them. Stephen could just make out a gentle smile on the wizened manager's face, as he gently motioned them back towards the real world. Stephen began walking, heart pumping; but before Trudy let his hand go, he received a gentle squeeze on it, and he knew everything would be all right.

It had to be.

---

Chromatik Football Club

Here they were again, in Jannick's office; and he'd been surprisingly relaxed about the whole matter. Tea, as always, had been offered; and while they were quietly sipping from the jade green tea cups, there was barely a sound heard from any of them. Stephen found his mind wandering; at just how crowded Jannick's office was, the stacks of papers and books, the small dehumidifier in the corner gently whirring away...

The clink of the teacup on the table surprised Stephen enough; and his attentions were focused back on Jannick, who seemed to be preparing his words. It had been less than a week since the finale of the Red League, and there was still a cup final left to play; but evidently this was a serious enough matter to have to deal with immediately.

"How long?"

"Uh. About two months," stammered Stephen.

"I had my suspicions, particularly when you changed your address, Trudy," he spoke, slowly. "But, ah, I will admit I was caught by surprise."

"Well..."

"But who am I to break up two young people in love? I'm not a cruel man. You two are...obviously in love. I won't be intefering in any of this, obviously, but I just want to remind you two that you are still professional footballers, and your performances are key to how our club does. Now, and for the forseeable future. If — and I understand this may and will be a difficult topic to broach, but it's one that needs to be talked about, sooner rather than later — your relationship threatens to harm the harmony of the squad, then I will not hesitate in moving either of you two on."

"We understand."

"Yeah."

"Well, then we're done here. You two may go. And...I won't ask you to tell the squad of you two right now. I understand that privacy is paramount for you two. If and when you try to tell the squad, though, you will have my full backing."

"Right."

"Thanks, coach."

The two practically sprinted out of the office, before sharing a sigh of relief. After checking they weren't going to be seen by anyone, they leant their foreheads against each other again; and all that needed to be said was the hand squeeze that followed.

Everything was going to be all right.

[Tumbra]

IMPORTANT NOTE: This part was now written by me, but by a very good friend and long-time collaborator of mine, Chromatika, who has very kindly given me permission to cross-post his work here.

defender meets midfielder, Supplemental 6
the summit

With thanks to Tumbra, who's allowing me to write some of the background pieces that explain the world around the main story. This piece occurs two months after the champions, which is Season 5, Part 6.

Chromatik City Field
Chromia, Central District, Chromatika

After every season, the best Chromatik keepers in the Red League convened in a three-day summit to discuss the season, hone their craft, and furthermore enjoy each other's company. There was something calming about discussing goalkeeping without the pressure of results being in the way, and though there had been talk about inviting some of the better foreign keepers in the league - Katerina Olexander, Ramola Carolan, Lew Karlov, Nicole Watson - nobody wanted to ask them to take time away from visiting home. No, it was best if it was just Chromatik keepers - and so, the group met.

Iskender Nur had expressed his apologies for not being able to attend - he was visiting family in Timuria. Jared Baglowski was spending time with his newborn son, Michael James Baglowski. Gabrielle Dick was away on a honeymoon trip to Quebec, freshly married. Pence Harringbotn, the keeper of newly promoted Urrhed FC, had planned on coming, but was dealing with offseason surgery to his left hand.

That left three to attend this summit. Kathie Begley the longtime keeper for Wirr Tsi, Tania Vincent, the netminder for Chromatik, and Kimi Herrington, the legend of Urrheddiao. It was a small crew, but Begley and Herrington were the co-founders of the annual Goalkeepers' Summit, and to have Vincent attend, fresh off of winning Chromatik's first title, was a plus.

As the three gathered at midfield of Chromatik City Field, Begley and Herrington gave Vincent a congratulatory hand.

"Thanks," muttered Vincent, a bit embarrassed, "You two had better seasons than me, though. I got carried by the-"

"Never apologize for how your team plays, remember?" interrupted Begley, "If your team plays higher up, it's because you allow them to. You faced a lot more high-intensity situations than Kimi and myself, and you were a key part of why your team won. Don't discount yourself."

Tania nodded in acknowledgement, and then wheeled on Kimi Herrington.

"What is this nonsense I hear about you leaving Urrheddiao?" she demanded, "Red League isn't the same without you in it! I thought you were going to be with Urrheddiao forever?"

"Had a meeting with Management, decided it was the right time to move on," explained Herrington, "I know it's not what we planned, but I'd rather go out on my own terms than not. Besides, I think they found a suitable replacement."

"Who can replace you?" asked Tania, "You're a legend!"

"Oh, just the single person that almost kept the Breakers in the Red League," replied Kimi nonchalantly, "Jeremiah Allison."

Tania and Kathie nodded in agreement. Allison was a longtime Orange League regular, but he had proven his mettle - the Breakers had been relegated despite his best efforts to keep them afloat, not vice versa.

"Couldn't be here because his daughter just turned three, but sends his regards. I'm glad he gets to stay."

"We'll miss you," Kathie said, offering Kimi a hand, "But it's cool that Jeremiah can stick around."

"We keepers need to stick with each other," stated Tania, "Maybe we should start inviting Orange League keepers, too."

"Well, that'll be for you two to figure out now," answered Herrington, "Since I'll be leaving soon."

The conversation then turned to the state of defensive play in the league, all three of them agreeing that the free-flowing attacking play of top teams was making their lives difficult; though defensive teams like Urrheddiao, Felswyr, and Wirr Tsi were still having some success, most of the league were turning to more fluid football. This made a goalkeeper's life a bit more difficult, but they were professionals.

"It must be interesting to play in a team that wins even when you potentially concede two goals a match," Kathie commented in Tania's direction, "Though not for want of trying - that Kerr kid is pretty good."

"It gets harrying at times mentally conceding so many," admitted Tania, "But to know that it's only because we can take that kind of risk from time to time that we are able to play such attacking football is freeing."

They were going to lose one of their best, but it didn't take away from the fact that goalkeeping remained one of the most important positions in the Red League.

And, in a season where things were changing - six IFCF berths, Anomalies under new management - that constant was a comfort.

[Tumbra]

defender meets midfielder: season 5, part 8
into the unknown

And with an emphatic 2-0 victory over Lanar, Chromatik added to their first title by being the first team to pull off the double — winning both the league and cup, and putting a cap on the team's season. To their surprise, Trudy had been named in the All-Pro team; and her attendance at the end-of-year awards ceremony was mandated. She had been allowed to bring a guest, but she hadn't brought Stephen — both of them agreed that it'd probably attract too much attention, which was what they definitively did not want — so she went alone.

Alone.

Stephen found himself watching the awards ceremony online, and Trudy cut a rather lonely figure at her table. Sure, Lili and Cixin were there at the same table as her, but they'd all brought someone along with them, and Stephen found himself focused on her, watching the awards ceremony play out with a small smile on her face. It was a smile, sure, but Stephen knew it didn't really mean much; it was the smile Trudy employed when she was somewhere she didn't really want to be, the smile that she employed when she had to do one of her brand endorsements, the smile she put on after a loss. Lili and Cixin talking to the ones they invited, in contrast to Trudy sitting relatively alone, pulled on Stephen's heartstrings, but at the same time it raised fresh doubts about Trudy. It was something that Stephen had always been curious about, but had never really dared to ask her about.

Who was Trudy, really?

Well, it wasn't a question in the metaphysical sense; Trudy Harrison was the girl he'd met four years ago, and had fallen in love with, and was his team-mate and girlfriend. But it was more of where she'd came from. She mentioned Kingsbury a lot of times, but nothing more than that; not a mention of who her family was, or what her early life, or of her life back in Tumbra. Whenever he'd clean the house, and went into her room, he was struck by how...impersonal it seemed to be. Sure, there were pictures, but they were mainly of her and friends. Trudy and Ami. Stephen and Trudy. Trudy with Cixin, even one with Lili...but none of her with her family. Or any from her youth. He knew she didn't like talking about it, which was fair — but if they were going to go on like this, he'd have to meet her family and get their approval. He just didn't know how to bring it up.

All that, however, was forgotten when Trudy basically collapsed through the door, exhausted by the day's events; clutching the small statuette she'd gotten for finishing in the All-Star team; and they'd basically collapsed into bed after that. Stephen had fallen asleep almost instantly, but awoken a few hours later to go to the toilet...only to find Trudy awake, when he returned from the toilet.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" he whispered, easing himself into the bed, before caressing her face.

"No," she whispered back, smiling weakly.

"How long have you been awake, then?"

"A while."

"What's bothering you? You can always tell me. It's what I'm here for." He squeezed her hand with his, and she squeezed his back.

"Just can't sleep, really. You—"

"I'm not going back to sleep myself until I know that you're sleepy, too."

"I don't know. I'm happy that we're like this. It's almost too good to be true, really, that the boy I found out that I actually fancied did like me back. And I'm happy he did. Really."

"But...?"

"But I can't help but think of the world I'm going to drag you into because, y'know, because we're together..."

The hairs on the back of Stephen's neck prickled. His next words had to be chosen carefully. Very, very carefully.

"Regardless of what world we're in, we'll always have each other."

"No, Stephen, this one's different."

"Tell me about it, then."

"I can't."

"But why? I thought we'd established we'd be honest with each other. That we'd communicate things with each other."

"I know," she said, voice quivering. "But I didn't want your opinion of me to change if I told you. I didn't..."

"Why would it? I love you because of who you are. It'd take a lot, and I really, really, mean a lot, for that to change."

"It is about who I am. It's something I can't change about myself, no matter how far I run or how much I try not to think about it."

"Then tell me about it. I'll share your burden with you. We'll take this on together, Trudy, because I love you, and that's not going to change. If it's something we can do something about, then we'll do something about it. If it's a secret that needs to be kept, I'll keep it for you. Anything. All you need to do is..."

She turned away from him. A few moments of silence followed, before Trudy Harrison turned back towards Stephen Kerr, eyes slightly teary. She squeezed his hand one more time before beginning.

"When I told you I was from Kingsbury, I wasn't lying. Right? I'd spent the past two years of my life before meeting you living there, playing for Kingsbury United, in muddy fields and generally playing without much hope of a future."

She paused, swallowed, before continuing.

"What I didn't tell you, Stephen, was why I was there."

"You wanted to be a footballer."

"Right. I did want to be a footballer. But my family didn't want that. They wanted me to become a part of the family business, a part of the machine, and one day they would groom me to take over at the top. But I didn't want that. So I left. I ran. And they let me."

"So you're free."

"No. I will never truly be, Stephen, because of who my family is. Because of who my father is."

"Who is he?"

Trudy bit her lip, and buried her face into Stephen's arm. A soft sniffle could be heard, and Stephen patted her on the back, embracing her. Eventually, though, she extricated herself, and continued.

"If I told you that my father was the second richest man in all of Tumbra, and owned several newspapers and an entire cable television network...would you believe me?"

Stephen's eyes widened, his stomach lurching. It...couldn't be. But she couldn't possibly be lying. It made perfect sense, in a weird, cosmic kind of way. She had to come from somewhere; and the explanation she was providing...made sense.

"Yes," he said quietly, "but what's his name?"

"His name...is Charles Harrison. If you go to his Online Encyclopedia page and search under 'Family' you'll find that he has one daughter. That's me. I'm his daughter. The one people know exists but nobody knows who she is, actually. In a way it's kind of liberating," a sad grin appearing on her face. "I know people have debated whether I'm dead or not. But nobody actually knows, because he's so goddamn private."

"So what's the problem?"

"He'll never approve of us."

"And that's it?"

"No. But there is so much he could do to both of us, Stephen. So much. Think of the richest person you know, personally, and what they can do with all the money they've got. Now multiply that by a factor of hundreds. Then imagine that person in the corridors of power. One of my uncles was in Cabinet. That's how high we're talking. He can do anything he wants, Stephen. That's what scares me at night. That he could kill our reputations with a click of his fingers. And I know he still thinks that this football thing is a phase, Stephen, that one day I'll grow bored of it and I'll return to his side to begin the process of taking over."

"I still don't get it."

"You're in his way, now. Us being in love with each other is an obstacle. He's going to try and do everything..."

"To break us apart."

"Yeah."

Another squeeze of the hands. "Whatever happens from now, Trudy, we'll face it together. I promise. There will be nothing stronger than us. A defender meeting a midfielder."

"Facing the world together. No matter what happens."

"Together."

[Tumbra]

georgia on my mind
a one-shot set in the defender meets midfielder universe

Kingsbury, Georgia
One year before the events of Season One, Part One: A Day In Kven

"We're here, miss. You sure this is your destination?" The taxi driver glances at the rearview mirror, casting a glance at the back seat where I am. It's a gesture of concern; what would a seventeen year-old like me be doing in such a run-down area of Kingsbury like this? It's tough to understand, especially since I'm travelling alone, and with quite a bit of baggage; but I nod determinedly at him, passing over a wad of crumpled notes that I'm pretty sure accounts for the taxi fare.

"Well. Least I can do for you is to help you unpack your stuff, Miss," he says after returning my change. "Would be mighty rude of me to just leave you like that in a place like this."

I nod again, and together we unload the taxi and put my things onto the pavement. Three suitcases worth of items. It's not much — especially for me — but I had to leave, quickly, in the middle of the night, and this is all I really deemed necessary. Clothes, boots, shin-guard, some personal effects but not too many...that's all I'm going to get as I begin this new life. He heaves the last grey suitcase out of the boot, and bids me farewell after I assure him that I'm safe and doing this of my own free will. I watch as the taxi begins, sputtering along the grey street, before it disappears out of my sight; then I realise what I've just done, and where I am.

I'm alone. As a seventeen year-old.

On a pavement of the Docklands district of Kingsbury.

I can see the gleaming steel towers in the distance, marking the Kingsbury skyline — one of them belonging to my dad's company, of course, but nobody has to know about that — but this is the first time I've actually been in the areas of Kingsbury outside the bit that most people like to visit. The smell of the sea is strong, and so is the smell of...raw fish? Meanwhile, the low-rise, three-story apartment blocks that dominate the street are all in varying shades of brown brick and disrepair. If I could choose anywhere in Kingsbury to live, of course, this would be nowhere near the top of the list; but as it stands, rent's cheap (for this city, at least) and this place offers anonymity — nobody will think that I've moved here. And that's important. I'd been looking at this spot to rent for a long time, since I'd thought the concept up of running away to pursue my dreams, but nobody who's searching for me will think that I'm moving here. Of course, to assume that I'll remain anonymous forever is daft — he'll find out where I am eventually, and he'll try to convince me to go back, of course — but all I need is a little bit of time to disappear, hope he comes to terms with the fact that I won't be returning, and then hopefully we'll go forwards from there.

Clutching the letter of confirmation I received the night before leaving, and double-checking that the address is correct — I don't want to knock on the wrong door, and be exposed to whatever might be inside — I step forward, gingerly, and knock on the door. Number 70, Crawford Street; I can feel the sun beating down on me, a bead of sweat running down the left side of my face as I wait for someone to answer the door.

Nobody comes.

I knock again, and wait; perhaps nobody's at home. My heart begins to beat quicker. Maybe this wasn't worth it, maybe it's not too late to go back and admit to Dad that I was wrong to run —

Oh. There's a door-bell with a sign that says to ring, not to knock. That'll explain it. I lightly tap the buzzer, and the sound it makes can be heard even from outside the house; but at least I know this one's worked at getting the attention of whomever's inside, because a few minutes later I hear the thumping of footsteps on the ground. Slowly, the door creaks open; and I find myself looking at an older woman with her greying hair stuffed inside curlers; who's evidently shocked to see me.

"And who might you be?" she asks, making my heart sink.

---

"Truth be told, dearie, I didn't expect you to turn up so quickly," she says, sipping on a cup of tea. "After all, I did only send that letter out a few days ago. Not to mention there were a few more steps before we, well, actually complete the transaction."

"Well..." All the correspondence went to Walter's post-box in town. The butler's been helping me throughout this whole adventure, including concealing who I really was from the woman sitting opposite me right now. Once again, I silently thank him for offering to do what he's done. "I couldn't really wait, Mrs Jones," I say. I take a sip from my own cup of tea to deflect questions; or, if she at least asks me mid-sip, I can at least think of what to say. "That's okay, right? I can still move in?" I ask, trying to not let my fear of being kicked out overwhelm me.

"Yes, it's fine. I just needed a bit of time to spruce the apartment up, though from your speed of arrival I think you having a roof over your head might outweight that." She laughs at her own joke. "I hope the trip down wasn't too hard?"

"No," I lie, trying to ignore the sense of gradually returning anxiety that I'd been trying to ignore for my entire trip. Even when I'd gotten on the train, and finally have it pull out of Steppenham Station, I couldn't ignore the sense of dread that I'd be caught, sent back home, and my entire plan scuppered. I take another sip to ground myself. I'm here! I'm actually here, ready to start my new life, as a footballer, away from my family. I exhale.

"You know, not a lot of people move out at the age of seventeen," the landlady says, thumbing our tenancy agreement. "Not many people would move here, either. I'd had this listing open for a long time, but nobody really wanted to move in. Not sure why the government suddenly decided to make seventeen the minimum age to rent a property, either," she says. Deep down, however, I reflect at just how much had to go right for me to be sitting here, right now. The legal age to rent decreasing. This particular property being available to rent for the longest time, and for the relatively cheap price it was, too. Walter helping me with all this.

"Well, the rent was a big plus," I say, trying to sound casual and not at all like I'm actually from a really rich family. "I'm planning to work, too."

"You! Work? At the age of seventeen? Oh, dearie, is your family okay?" She holds her hands to her cheek, shocked at the suggestion.

"Yes," I lie again. "Well, they've recently fallen on hard times, and I decided to move to the city to try and make some money." Okay, that last bit's technically not a lie. I do need money to survive. My family, though, they'll be fine. They're only the second richest family in Tumbra, after all.

"Oh, you poor dear," she says. "Do let me know if you're not going to be able to pay rent."

"I, uh, don't think that'll be needed..." For a moment I'm tempted to say yes, that I do need help with rent. After all, how much does Kingsbury pay its players? Not a lot, probably. It's enough. But I've lied enough already, and I kind of feel bad for lying when it comes to money. "I'll be on time every month, hopefully."

"Oh. Well, I'm glad you're here, safe and sound. Do you want me to get the neighbours to..."

"No, I'll just — I'll bring the stuff up by myself," I smile.

---

Ten minutes later, I'm regretting my decision not to ask for help. I'm panting, wheezing, and I've only moved all my stuff up one flight of stairs. Given that I'm actually staying on the third floor, I'm not looking forward to the rest of my venture. As I look at the next creaky set of stairs in the narrow corridor, I hear a door opening behind me, before a voice begins to speak.

"You, ah, need help there?" says the voice.

I turn around and find myself staring into the eyes someone who's of a similar age as me. He smiles warmly, and makes his way to my luggage. I'm too tired by now to refuse the help; plus, the sooner I can get to my room, the quicker.

"Yeah," I wheeze, in between breaths. "Sure."

"All right! You that new girl that Mrs. Jones was talking about? She mentioned you. Seemed pretty pleased that someone was finally moving in."

All I can muster up, as I grab one suitcase — he's grabbed two, and is moving up the stairs without much effort, the creaks from the stairs making it sound more dangerous than it is — is a tired, flustered "Yeah."

"Cool. Cool, cool, cool," he says as we round another flight of stairs. "I'm Paul. Been living here since I was eight. My mom, you see, she works at the local fish market. So she needed somewhere close to stay."

"Neat," I say. Why's he suddenly telling me his entire life story? We met thirty seconds ago.

"What about you? You're moving in alone. Where's your family stay?"

"Uh, I —" My mind freezes. I haven't fully committed the story I came up with before I left home to memory yet. Uh. Ah. Yeah. "S-Steppenham," I say. "My dad works as...a postal worker. My mom used to work as a nanny, but she got laid off recently." I remind myself that I'm technically not lying. Dad does work as a postal worker; he sits on the board of Georgia Post. And a lot of other boards. But in this new life, I'm going to have to lie a lot. I cringe on the inside, knowing that these people will probably never ever find out the truth of who I am; but that's got to be locked away, now. For how long?

Maybe forever.

"Well, pretty bold of you to come down to the big city to try and find work."

"Not many jobs left in that part of the state. Plus I got offered a job. So, all I needed was to find a place. And..." I heave the final suitcase up to my door. "And here I am, I guess."

He flashes a smile at me. "What's your name? Never did ask for it. Rude of me."

"Trudy." It's the first unequivocally true thing I've told anyone today. Somehow it's refreshing, and his smile's making me feel at ease. I smile back at him.

"Well, Trudy, it's good to meet you," he grins. "If you ever need me — or my mom — don't hesitate to shout. We're all neighbours, and we're all helping each other. Even Fraser, the old man on the second floor. He doesn't take lightly to new arrivals, but he'll warm up to you in no time."

"Thanks."

"I'll be going, then," he says before he walks down the creaky staircases again.

---

I haven't unpacked much; only what I really need to survive the first night. There's a bed, there's a mattress; and really, that's all I needed. The rest of the room's a bit bare, but that can wait. After putting the covers on, I collapse into it; just enough to be able to see the night sky, and the moon, which is unusually bright tonight, is shining through my window.

It's been a long, long day. And I'm actually here. All that I've dreamed about — well, maybe not everything, but close to it — is actually here. I'm not at home anymore. I'm on the road to actually becoming a footballer. I don't know what's going on at home, and I don't know how they're dealing with my absence; but I sure hope Grandma isn't too heartbroken by the fact that I disappeared without saying goodbye to her. That's the one regret I've got.

Oh well. If it's just one regret, it can't be too bad. And I'm sure she'd understand. But I can't let things like that distract me from what I've got to do.

My name is Trudy Harrison, and I'm going to become a professional footballer.

No matter what it takes.