“FUCK!” the athlete yelled as he sent the side of his foot barreling into a plastic trash can, watching it fly across the room and coincidentally crash into his locker. his erratic breathing pattern started to decline slowly, regret now starting to set in. he would never apologize for defending himself, but getting kicked out the game was far to reminiscent of last year’s championship game; his actions were a direct cause of why they didn’t win. again, he had proved everyone who wanted him to fail right. he was starting to fear that he would never shake the stigma of being a troublemaker. sitting down on the bench, he placed his elbows on his tattoo’d thighs. his hands now covering his visage as he sat completely still. he could still hear the sound of the buzzer, the crowds cheering. he wanted to be back out there, but he knew his coach would have his head. he was at least suspended for the next two games. the sound of the heavy door opening didn’t alarm him, he didn’t care who was walking through. hearing the soft, comforting sounds of kamore’s sweet timbre caused him to align his eyesight with her. the beauty donned her cheerleading uniform, the number four written on her cheek in black face paint. even through his despair, he managed to forge a smile onto his face. he had no issue with showing her his weaker side, she’d seen him at every stage. tightening his grip on her hand, he kissed his teeth when she mentioned how he smelled. “why you all up on me, then?” he inquired, using the towel he had on his neck to lightly slap it across her face. he didn’t respond to her attempt to remove him from the locker room, not verbally or physically. he was thankful that she cared enough to try and encourage him, it was one of the things that attracted him to her ⸻ she had a big heart and most of the time he didn’t deserve it.  “i can only fuck up so many times before they don’t give a fuck ‘bout shit i got goin’ on. they gon’ cut me.” he responded, leaning back on the lockers. he kept his eyes directly ahead of him, despite the beauty that sat next to him. he was too stubborn to even admit that he was remorseful for his actions. a few seconds later, kamore forcefully turned his head to meet her concerned expression. “i’on really feel like shit. i was defending myself, them niggas was playin’ dirty the whole time and yet i’m the bad guy for whoopin’ that nigga ass. i play my ass off every time i’m on the court. i’on know what else to give these niggas.” he flared, a disgruntled countenance written all over his boyish canvas. he could solve his problem with one simple phone call. even with his violent outburst, he still had managers and agents blowing up his line. going pro wasn’t the solution to his anger issues, but it damn sure was a way to make sure he never had to deal with school politics again. he stood up right after her, shooting her a look as he opened his locker to retrieve the bag that was full of his belongings. “i’ma tell ‘em you talkin’ shit. was they losing?” he questioned as he closed the locker and threw his arm over her shoulder, despite her complaints as they walked out of the athletes hub. “i ain’t talkin’ to that nigga, fuck him too. he better be glad i ain’t beat his ass.” he huffed, thinking about his coach as they took the back entrance of the gym toward the parking lot. “let’s go get some food.”