OOC: For the original purposes back in WCQ87, it was divided into 2 separate RPs. I would like to thank Schottia for his permission with the use of Tessa Maitfield, his national team player currently playing with CSKA Quebec, back in July. I would also like to thank several other RPers who I have consulted over the last few days on the Maitfields. Here's not much, but let's see how this goes..
Quebec City, Capitale-Nationale
Frank Lundrigan was still collecting his thoughts, as he was trying to find himself getting used to visiting Quebec City often. Frank did not like feeling small and out of place in this city of deserted antiques and delinquent antics. The oxycontin-like level of bureaucracy, the ever-so-high risk of stepping on dog poop, and of course navigating through old neighbourhoods without being hit by a car was enough of a nightmare for him.
In all fairness to him, he didn't have much memory of the nation's capital, unlike his parents who spent a decade here or his brother, who had moved back home to be with Plongeon. Perhaps it was better that way for Frank as well- the career trajectory he's had since high school were fairly consistent, if uneventful. After a successful high school career where Frank, who stuck with football and squash for his sport of choice, was recruited by Yves Brousseau-Gong, the head coach of Saguenay Tech program, it had all been cruise control. He had known for several years from his mother, Princess Athens de Chanie of Vdara, that his parents were going to move back and work with the Commonwealth Office (father) and philanthropic causes (mother), so Frank did not have a particular obligation to stay closer to Kingston.
Of course, Frank was fine with the idea of moving to a smaller school in a medium-sized city, especially one with a traditional powerhouse in Olympique de Rimouski, so he viewed the move as something that he had to do so. His friends in Erskine days, unlike that of Asher's buds, were not always the type to go to the Royal League (highly selective, smaller-sized universities mostly located in mid-large cities, with a couple of exceptions in Farrer and St. Croix), but rather those who would go to Imperial League (larger, research-intensive state schools). While Saguenay Tech was neither, Frank was still aware of the reasons why he would go there over enticing options from some of the bigger names, and went that way. As an eighteen year old he knew his ticket to anywhere was football, and he could always enjoy other aspects of life anyway.
Now, as a twenty-three year old carving his trade in Siovanija and Teusland, and also the national team, Frank was much more certain about where he was standing in life, and life in the City of Eternal Lights was the one he would have still avoided either way. Tessa's Nouvel-Les Halles neighbourhood apartment was clean and spacious, and the simplicity of the space, highlighted by a postmodernist work of art he did not have patience but appreciation for, it was evident that he would at least find greater comfort here than staying with his parents or god forbid- his brother.
Not that Asher would have welcomed the idea anyway, Frank thought as he wondered around a bit to see how the rest of the suite was like. A short walk around the living room, a guest room and the bathrooms took solid minute or two of inspection, and just as he finished the travail, his phone rang.
'Allo?' Frank picked up the phone, trying not to be nervous about it. He knew only four people were going to call the footballer- his mum, his agent Serge Nisenbaum, Asher or Tessa. Depending on which of the four, he was going to have a different reception to it. Fortunately, it was the last of four persons he had listed.
'Frank, are you home?' the husky voice of Tessa breezed through his ear. 'I'm heading back soon.'Oh Tess...Frank smiled, as he couldn't help but to imagine her calling him before leaving the CSKA Athletic Complex.
'Yeah, it's a nice place. May even nap for an hour before we go out for dinner, right?' Frank nodded, as he couldn't help but to notice the childhood posters she held from the days of her life back in Ceni. Frank had heard from some time back that Tessa, the only child of Tim Maitfield, a well-known Schottian manager who has settled nicely with Zenith side Starling after excellent run with Crisisbless United, had a particularly hard time moving around.
'Yeah, why not Bouillon Gagnier? People probably won't notice us there...' Sometimes Tessa had a surprisingly simplistic way of handling potential attention from the crowd, and going directly into the crowd instead of pretending to ignore it was one of the strategies she had. Frank knew this was a bold idea and that Tessa may have thought of this out as a hurried option rather than a plausible one, but he was fine with that. Not that his cooking skills, a trait both Lundrigan brothers were known to be bad at, were going to be of much use on their first day back in the city.
'Sounds good, Tess. Text me when you are five minutes away. Love you!' Then Frank hung up the phone, as he found himself lying on her couch, looking at the posters she had on her wall. Andrew Arrowsword, Evelyn Conjure, a bunch of Quebecois musicians she's become a fan of since coming here about two years ago...Unlike her childhood days, Tessa now had the space to fit all of her childhood heroes and current interests coexist in pictorial forms, and wasn't afraid to display such.
Of course, her tastes were very much specifically catered to the tough, working-class heroes, which had meant something different than that of Frank's friends in the footballing circles, or Corinne Martel-Burns, one of the two greatest Schottian football players in history. Her tales of rivalry with Enrico Hanson-Conavacio, the brother of his friend Hazel, was a well-known story, especially in the Quebecois soil where the Hanson-Conavacio family held universal respect and Hazel the most famous female athlete among their generation. This rivalry, which also transpired into a friendship with Enrico’s sister Hazel, had meant even more for the Q-League fans out there, especially for the league that needed more marquee stories.
Of course, Frank knew why and deeply respected Tessa for her honesty. That’s what may have drawn the young footballer to her, and they were both proficient at being humble and staying true to the gameplan and the training schedule. Of course, they still held differences- she was still bitter about Sir. Lionel Mah, the manager who Frank owed his current status with the national team while he was still a junior at Saguenay Tech, pushing his way into managing Willox Street Pirates over her father, and they still argued over petty cultural differences long expected between a level-headed Quebecois and his Schottian equivalent. Regardless, they loved each other dearly because as it's commonly said, the realists often make the best romantics...
Three Years Ago...
Handon, Schottia
'You sure going to a party this late is a good idea?' Frank asked Myeong-Yoon, his close friend at the Quebecois women's basketball national team, whom he had also known since the childhood days. Unlike Asher, Frank did not hold as vivid memories of his younger self, but the reunion with the Heos who came to Midtown all the way from Mississauga certainly helped in them being friends to this day, even as they lived different lives as public individuals. 'Like, they will notice us on the streets!'
'Oh, shut up!' Myeong-Yoon shot back at Frank, as the two were trying to make their way to Hazel's place from the nearest train station. It was a breezy mid-summer day in Handon, Schottia, where the two were struggling to find the direction- neither of them were good at it- and they 'How many times do I have to tell you that it's not our choice to go or not- it was Hazel’s call. You know how much she wants to see you…’
Right, Frank looked at the full moon, as he tried to think little and walk further. Being a jogger, he always loved going on walks around his neighbourhoods or parks, but doing this in the middle of old, middle-class district of Handon wasn’t something that he had in mind on an eleven in the evening.
It was about two years ago when Frank had met Hazel Hanson-Conavacio for the first time in his life. Back then, on a Di Bradini Cup team, Frank and Hazel happened to have ended up on the Quebecois side that had made little difference on the group stage, but stumbled their way through Valanora in what was a fruitful journey of self-discovery for the young Argonauts.
Red….black….white…Frank recalled how Hazel, as she instinctively handled the football along the left side of the turf while he watched from the sidelines...and couldn’t help but to be amazed with her artistry. From that moment on, they knew that Frank and Hazel, while both coming from renowned families of their own, were bound to face each other for the next two decades. Fortunately, after many chats and trips with his teammates on their time in the training camp and then in Valanora, everybody in the junior national team had a stronger bond than what they had originally envisioned. Relations between Frank and Hazel, somehow, happened to be one of those cases- while they, as leaders to the team, always quarrelled over how to execute the strategies, and never agreed on their preferred choice of Pizza toppings, Frank and Hazel also came to appreciate each other for their respective stubbornness, and as result kept in contact with each other to limited extent on L’Instagramme and WhatsUp after he headed back to Saguenay Tech and her Haligonian.
‘So who’s coming to the party tonight? Once again, a neverending list of celebrities we expect from Hazel, like that time when she hosted a new year’s eve party?’ Frank continued to ask, with both of them chuckling at the reminder of the very last time they met, at Hazel’s Halifax flat. ‘You know it was such a nightmare to get everybody out with the fire alarm, and a couple of guests she brought - I think Gonzo the rapper and Jang Hyo-Seung the poppin’ dancer - who got hospitalised…’
‘Apparently, this time will be different.’ Answered Myeong-Yoon, much to Frank’s surprise at the basketballer. ‘Apparently Rico Sierra, that famous Krytenian pop star of Avides bred and habits, Hannah Michaelson, the swimmer’s daughter...and Tessa Maitfield? Have you ever met her?’ Myeong-Yoon raised her eyebrows, only realising now that Hazel mentioned the latest CSKA Quebec transfer’s name as a minor name-drop when they talked over the phone yesterday. Myeong-Yoon, while familiar with international football, couldn’t help but to struggle on any reason behind why her, the rival of Hazel’s infamous brother, Enrico ‘ricky buck’ of Myana, was even invited. ‘I think she’s Tim Maitfield’s daughter..the one at Crisisbless United.’
‘Oh, her? Thought she’s back in Nephara,’ Frank said, grabbing his chin for a sec, as he noticed the oddity too. Knowing Hazel, this did not make much sense to invite someone whom, to borrow Hazel’s words, was the living definition of ‘reliable, predictable and boring’. ‘Not sure why she’d risk all the travelling back and forth, since Cosumar’s just four hour flight away. Apparently, she came to CSKA because of old man Killanen though.’
‘Makes sense. Seems like a Killanen type of a player, and no way she would have gone to Hals, even though papa Leo’s all bogan and whatnot,’ Myeong-Yoon nodded in a big brain meme mode, with his questions magically resolved. ‘You know what? Maybe that’s why she’s here..Hazel may have invited her in case somebody has to take over by calling the ambulance after she, you know, makes inroads with Rico Sierra. Ah, the foxy bitch...’ Heo Myeong-Yoon and Hazel Hanson-Conavacio, the two budding superstars in making for the women’s national basketball team (how Hazel could play both sports, we’ll get to that later), and they had become friends since their high school freshman days. At this point, they had known each other well so that a Myeong-Yoon’s move would easily be detected and countered by Hazel, and vice versa.
‘At least she won’t be lonely.’ Frank smirked, understanding the side of the fence this Tessa may be on. ‘At least she won’t be the only one who’s gonna have a hard time with the drinks.’ Frank yawned quietly, trying not to make too much sound out of his biological act. ‘So our plan for tomorrow with travel plans?’
‘Tomorrow problems stay tomorrow problems, you sleepy head.’ Myeong-Yoon jabbed at her friend’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry so much about it yet.’
At least I won’t be the lonely one out, Frank gave a light smile, as they continued to chat for another ten minutes until they finally found the small, multifloored house that Hazel lived in Handon during holidays. Frank was relieved that at least he wouldn’t be the only fool, the awkward, socially-distanced man in middle of a massive social gathering.
3 hours later...
The party went along as expected for everybody. The lights, the bulbs, the meeting of eyeballs, and the firm mix of odd alcoholic odour coming from every corner - the environment was relaxing, understanding and gradually forgetting.
Ah…..ah….ah….. Frank felt his phone vibrate while drunk, as he was watching all unfold on the comforts of his sofa with little intrusion. He was smiling, enjoying the moments unfold, as eh felt the odd sense of merging faces with how happy they were, almost as if they were about to break down his barriers towards their ‘eccentricities’.
Frank unlocked his phone, and he checked the phone. Unfortunately, it was nothing but a work email from Marzig, which certainly wasn’t something a lad wanted to read while on a party. So he closed the phone, looked back, and kept himself immovable thanks to the weight of alcohol in his system.
He recalled earlier on how Myeong-Yoon left him with a friend of theirs, a certain Tikariotian metalhead Frank never ended up remembering her name, and went off to pick up a couple of drinks. Then everything just passed quickly- he remembered talking to the girl about her home province of Viljamark, their opposition towards bloodsport, and their respective preferences of alcoholic beverages that while tempting, left him back on the couch wondering the purpose of his presence in this party where everybody had clear intentions but he.
The upcoming trip to the southwestern tip of Tyran better be good, especially after yet another forced failure at this party…
Frank thought of disappointments that formed around every time he went to a party where none of his ‘les gars’ were really present- and thought of how things so small, from an accidental spill, spoiled it more often than not. Then not much he remembered.
The next thing Frank remembered, however, was that he was outside Hazel’s place, as Frank desperately attempted to get some air. What he remembered was that his stomach was twirling like a late night fishing trip on some distant sea, and Frank had no choice but to escape it.
Ah...Ah...Ah… As he quickly gaped for breaths in a set of disgruntlement, he heard the door shut once again. ‘Huh,’ he lifted his voice as he turned around to see who it may have been. Unfortunately he couldn’t exactly see who the stranger was, so he turned his back again, hoping that he didn’t see a goblin.
Fortunately for Frank though, it was the opposite of a goblin, as Frank once again heard his name being called out. ‘Are you not comfortable with where you are, aren’t you?’ Frank heard somebody, a feminime voice shout behind him, sounding as if she had already heard of a relative-nobody in him. Frank turned around, unintendedly bumping into her as they briefly slumbered before seeing their faces once again.
To his surprise, it was a girl, who looked similar to Hazel- a tall, blonde with a sleek figure and all the confidence she needed on the surface to make it to the big stage on whatever her career had meant. As Frank gathered his gaze, he looked upwards and realised that it may be this….Tessa Myeong-Yoon may have mentioned about earlier.
‘Um...yes. As you can see, I’m not from here.’ Frank responded, trying not to embarrass himself in front of her. Deep inside, however, he was practically frozen, noticing at how the stranger, who may have just heard of his name just as a name-drop five minutes ago, approached the perfectly-embarrassed guest. He couldn’t help but to admire how she caught his eyes- a pretty woman but without having to flout her traits; medium-length blonde hair, blue eyes with hues of grey added to it, and her smile that only semi-concealed the layer of ‘tristesse’ in the Schottian. Frank remembered seeing her sometime back in the first hour of the party, probably chatting with Hazel, the host of the night who was distracted trying to arrange beer pong tournament pairs and to keep Myeong-Yoon’s hands off her prize of the night.
Of course Frank, being ever so poor with his eyesight in terms of ladies, happened to just acknowledge along and moved onto another chamber. But if there’s one thing, that after all the epic failures Frank experienced that night, from that dead-end conversation with the Tikariotian, the slumbering self at the living room sofa, or the desperate attempt not to throw up or embarrass himself outside her place, that he was going to remember was how the two misfits looked at each other.
‘Thought so. You know, I’m from here as well, but not really- grew up mostly in Ceni, spent time in Port Christopher and then played in Cosumar before moving to your country.’ Tessa responded, the timbre of her voice clearer and bitterer than earlier, mostly because that may have been any better way of describe Tessa’s struggles. To be underestimated, to be ignored along, and under constant conflict… Forever wanderer, as your friends would call me.’
‘Hazel feels the same way, please don’t feel bad,’ Frank responded, trying not to laugh, and then brought his face closer to her. At around 178cm, they were roughly around the same height. Eau de cologne, like sea salt from South Berwick- he could smell it right away, and their gaze leaving them dazed. ‘I think you should go back home. Friends want me to stay a bit longer, in case they need someone to order a cab or call an ambulance.’
Of course, that’s not how the night was gonna turn out, as Tessa grabbed his left arm, not letting go of the grip. ‘I don’t want you to go,’ she said back to him, the distance between two of them practically nonexistent. ‘You need somewhere quieter, not walking your way back to downtown. The trains will take a while to arrive apparently.’
True, Frank thought, thinking about how much time he and Myeong-Yoon had wasted in their near-perfect effort to blend into the crowd. The grey in her eyes, as he looked further at her, started to lift, replaced by shades of purple and lavender.
‘Why not the basement? I know Hazel has plenty of rooms there, and none of her girlfriends are ready to sleep, I don’t think.’ Frank said, looking at Tessa’s natural layers of pink and the fading hues of lipstick.
‘Sure, probably easier to talk there,’ she said, deciding to let the instincts handle it.
Every first moment, even for those who had long anticipated the matter, requires awkwardness. That’s exactly what happened to Frank and Tessa as they slowly fell into each other’s arms, and found their physical comfort in each other.
Given both their status as professional athletes, they knew what the term ‘good sport’ had meant, and while it took some effort to lower their rice purity test score, the hard-worker in them also knew what it meant to enjoy the process. Innocent touches under the dim lights, primal instincts in the darkness, the mix of IPA and tonal signs on their breaths, the chuckles at noticing how awkward they were under test drive...it was something new for both Frank and Tessa.
When the morning came, Frank couldn’t help but to realise how quickly the hours had passed, and how sometimes, unlikely things just happened to happen beyond the matters of his control. The warmth of another body, stark to the degrees of uncertainties around their lives, were something that he knew neither Frank nor Tessa were comfortable before in their young lives and careers, but it was in that where they saw promise in one another. Her lip balm, the curves of her form, and the way her hair tickled his shoulder were only the additional reminders to that.
It was strange, unfamiliar and of course, scary for either party, who have gone through enough bitterness in their lives and did not want to say it so publicly. But, at least, the matter of liaisons was going to start differently for once, and he may not even have to make it all the way on West Aotearoan mountains to see that.
In the meanwhile...
Of course, everybody but them knew this was a matter they had planned in advance. As Heo Myeong-Yoon sat in the local twenty-four hour breakfast diner, waiting for the others to come along, Heo Myeong-Yoon exhaled and was relieved at the success of the mid-summer party in Handon. All the heart-warming and stomach-filling smell of pancakes, maple syrup and the rich breakfast fare were giving her much relief. Sitting on the table, she recognised Hazel Hanson-Conavacio, Mara James-Yim (Schottian olympic swimmer Rebecca James's daughter), and Ben McGowan the latter's fiance. Myeong-Yoon saw them all smile in surprise, as she embraced each other.
'Congrats for well, being the number one to hit the old diner! Not tired I guess?' Mara spoke as she noticed how Myeong-Yoon, even though tired, looked even happier than everyone (including Myeong-Yoon herself) intended. 'All good I guess? Ready for some shopping later?'
'I guess so!' Myeong-Yoon responded with her hands on both sides of the waist. 'The flight is still not until Tuesday, but you know, better start thinking about what'd be best souvenirs to get for our hosts down there, and not to make mistakes. Stay environmentally-friendly and whatnot.'
'I agree with you for sure,' Hazel responded, noticing the odd void in Hazel's seat, before asking. 'Where is Rico?'
'Rico's still asleep...that bastard will probably drop by in twenty, but he's taking forever with showering,' Myeong-Yoon responded as they all chuckled, realising that the host's mission, carefully planned from the beginning, had once again failed- with her best friend being the lucky one of the night. 'Let's see how he's gonna do.'
'And what about you know, Tessa and Frank?' Ben asked, too noticing that the happy-go-early people were missing. 'Did Frank leave early last night?'
'Um...' Hazel cleared her throat. 'Let them be...the lovebirds, they took my bedroom when I decided that it was time to kick a couple of unruly guests, and send others home. Last time I checked before that they were in the basement, but apparently somebody told Tessa to go upstairs instead, because the bed's comfier there...who was it? Huh??'
