ghost.

Akira smiled at her and laughed a little, the tension in his shoulders relaxing a fraction. Perhaps she wouldn’t go running to Wymack, especially if she was so forthcoming with her own desire to escape. Not even the Fox’s management was immune to the need to escape. “Well. If you don’t tell on me I won’t tell on you…and I’ll even let you slip out the back door without looking. That way I can pass a lie detector test.” It was a weak joke but part of Akira felt like they both needed a little humor at this point. Even if it was on the same level as a joke his dad would say. “But I doubt Wymack will care too much if you do sneak off for a little bit. It’s not like he’s got anything holding you here. Unless you’re going to announce you’re suddenly an Exy player signing with the Foxes.” Wouldn’t be the first strange thing that had happened to the Foxes.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and decided he owed her at least a little bit of honesty back. “I lied.” Akira admitted, looking away from Lydia and worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “I’m not suffering from the chicken or anything at all. I was in the bathroom…but mostly because I was hiding too.” He shot her a sheepish smile and shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t change her mind and decide to snitch on him. It was her right, but that didn’t mean he wanted it to happen. “You won’t go telling on me will you?”

Akira’s attempt at humor didn’t go unnoticed by Lydia, and she offered him a careful  attempt at a smile in return. He seemed easy going enough, from what she’d observed. Given his history, she might’ve expected him to be enjoying an event like this, but if he was more comfortable sneaking out the back, then Lydia could certainly understand. “Join the Foxes?” Lydia repeated, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, no thank you. I don’t run. Or hit. Or throw things. Or exert myself, in general.” She might have said it as a joke, but the best jokes were always rooted in truth. “So, anyway, I think you’re right. He’s got nothing on me.” Other than offering her a job, one which she desperately needed in order to avoid her usual state of debt and living paycheck to paycheck.   

“Why would I tell on you?” Lydia said, with some genuine confusion. Sure, yes, she was staff, but she wasn’t staff in the way some of the others were. She wasn’t like Joel, who was a Fox born and raised, or Sebastian, who’d at least played for another team before this. She had no personal stake in their victories and losses, and she certainly didn’t care how this banquet went. Fewer incidents meant fewer forms for her, but more paperwork meant overtime pay. She’d find the bright side either way. “If it helps, it’s not too bad in there, from what I can see. I’m just...not good at socializing,” she admitted, clearing her throat. 

Akira hadn’t spoken to Lydia much. He knew about her, knew why she was part of the Foxes, knew what she did for the Foxes. But he rarely had any reason to speak to her. And of all the staff to catch him he was glad it was her. She’d never struck him as a hard ass who’d run off to tell on him. He really didn’t want to sit out the next game and realistically he hadn’t been gone all that long at all. “I’m not sneaking out. I swear.” Akira said, not fully able to ignore the need to cover his ass at least a little bit. “I was using the one bathroom that’s not open for the rest of the teams.” He shrugged and awkwardly drug his hand through his hair, smoothing it back in place a moment later. “I think the chicken from dinner isn’t settling well.”

He smiled weakly at Lydia and nodded. “Thanks for that.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. “I hate sitting out games…and if I have to sit out because I didn’t want to wait in line…” He shook his head, laughing darkly to himself. He’d be livid. He’d get it, but he wouldn’t be happy about it. He’d just destroy himself in extra practice to make up for it. A little part of him wanted to be honest with Lydia but he opted not to, not entirely sure how she’d react to being lied to about why he was sneaking back into  the banquet. So he opted to look at her and smile at her weakly. “Are you all right Ms. Delaney?”

Despite Lydia’s reluctance to socialize with most of the Foxes, there were a few she felt, if not completely comfortable, then at least safe around. It was a short list. Marley was on it, obviously. Brayden had somehow made it there too, despite their historically awkward conversations—although she’d never admit it to him, and she doubted he’d be pleased to hear it. Then, of course, there were the Foxes she still couldn’t bear to be alone with, because of whatever reminders or anxieties they brought with them. Notably, that list included Kent, and any of the Foxes who felt too unpredictable or violent to Lydia. Akira fell somewhere in the middle—an unknown entity, for the most part, despite the fact that he was arguably the most famous face on the team. Lydia didn’t put stock in rumors though, and that included the Hollywood kind. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I, uh...I was going to sneak out,” Lydia admitted. “Just for a few minutes.” Akira’s question took her by surprise, in part because of the way he’d addressed her—Ms. Delaney, rather than just Lydia. She was fairly certain she hadn’t been called that since high school, and back then it had been with disappointment, not as a show of politeness. At least...she assumed that was why he’d done it. She cleared her throat, deciding that it was better than the shit she got called at the bar. Lydia liked being a bartender, but every night had at least one (or two, or three, or more) sleazy customers, and sometimes she got tired of enduring their clumsy catcalls for the sake of some much needed tips. “Oh, I’m good,” Lydia said. “I didn’t have the chicken, so. All good over here.” There was a beat, and Lydia cleared her throat awkwardly. 

Sometimes Marley caught herself feeling stuck between worlds. Her body felt heavy, a weight left sitting on the curb while Marley felt some part of her lifting. She wasn’t in her body anymore, couldn’t feel a tether to it, but she could somehow still feel the heaviness. And like a rubber band, she would snap back into place just like she did in that moment. It left her feeling disoriented, a part of her missing each time it happened. She couldn’t help but feel like it happened this time because she took a weight off her chest, let something free that she’d kept restrained inside of her. There were certain burdens that Marley carried with her that she didn’t feel like she could ever get rid of no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t find it in herself to let those burdens go, to forgive herself for not doing what she should have done.

If there was something Marley was good at though, it was bringing herself back to her safe ground. It was like a small clear circle with nothing but dark stormy seas all around her and Marley found her way back each time. It was how she kept going, how she kept smiling. She knew the world couldn’t be all bad, she knew there had to be things to hope for and things to live for. There had to be. If there wasn’t… that would mean everything was worthless.

And Marley did bring herself back, smiling at Lydia with a reassuring glance despite that fact that she’d just told Lydia about her miscarriage. “You don’t have to worry, I’m not expecting you to know what to say or even what to do. I wouldn’t if I were in your position.” Marley stretched her legs out, joint long forgotten and put out. “Telling you wasn’t about searching for comfort or help or understanding. It’s more about… helping myself by getting it out there in the world. Acknowledging it happened and what goes on in my head. And most importantly, it’s about trust.” It was a way for Marley to show her heart to Lydia, to show that she trusted the other woman.

“But thank you, really. I guess I like to try to blame myself because I let it go on. I should have just left after my father when Wymack gave me my first escape.” Marley pulled at the sleeves of her sweater, focused on that rather than anything else. “Don’t know if you knew that, but Wymack had asked me when I finished high school if I wanted to come on with the Foxes. After years of hell with my father, I had my out right there. It was what I spent years working for: all that studying, all that extra practices, the Exy obsession was to get me out and finally it happened.” When that contract was right there in front of her, it seemed too good to be true. “And when it was right there, I couldn’t believe it and so I refused. It felt like a dream, it felt like it couldn’t have been that easy to leave it all behind. So I turned it down and ended up marrying Samuel. I guess that’s why I blame myself… I could have ended it all there, I could have not gone through all that extra pain and torment if I’d just signed that first contract.”

Trust. That was something foreign in Lydia’s life. She didn’t offer it to others, and they rarely offered it to her. She’d last person she’d truly trusted was Shane, and James before him. She liked to think that she’d learned from that. Learned that people couldn’t be trusted—learned that Lydia herself couldn’t be trusted, because she made the worst decisions, trusted the worst people, brought out their worst sides. Marley gave her trust to Lydia so freely anyway though, even though Lydia had been nothing but closed off in the past, and that scared Lydia, because she was going to fuck this up somehow. 

There was no universe in which Lydia didn’t say or do the wrong thing. Or, failing that, she was going to get terrified and run the other direction—she could see it clearly now, and that was the worst part. Even knowing it was coming, Lydia wouldn’t be able to stop herself. She’d been running for too damn long by now, and it was simply habit. In another universe there was a Lydia who’d stayed at home, who’d learned how to become the person she wanted to be, that her parents had wanted her to be, but this Lydia wasn’t that person. She wasn’t even close.

She wished she was someone Marley deserved right now though. Someone who, having stumbled across Marley in this vulnerable moment, know what to do to help her. Staying quiet and listening to Marley was the easy part though, and despite her anxiety, Lydia was still glad to learn more about the other woman. She’d assumed that she understood her, but clearly, that wasn’t true. Marley was a mystery, despite their supposed similarities. Lydia considered a few responses, tossed them all aside, and sat in silence alongside Marley for a moment.  Sat in solidarity, maybe. Or cowardice. It all depended on what Marley thought of it. 

It was easier to laugh and feel okay about it. For a long that she felt like something was snapping instead of her every time she laughed like she wasn’t allowed to laugh. There were little things that Marley thought would go back to normal after a while but it was years later and she was still trying to put little pieces back together. Marley never realized just how much of herself she lost until she came to Palmetto and met the Foxes. Now she stood at an Exy banquet, feeling a complicated sense of joy. Everything was always so complicated nowadays. “Oh please, I could have probably tried harder.” Marley had gone with simple as her theme. Simple makeup, simple hair, and a simple black dress. Enough to impress but not over the top to direct attention to her. The only people Marley really cared about at the banquet were the Foxes and the one woman in front of her—Lydia. 

A small part of Marley had worried that Lydia would have backed out of coming to the banquet. It was that tiny part that always doubted everything. But when she’d met up with Lydia, Marley had been over the moon. Not only did it mean that she’d get to bring Lydia a little out of her comfort zone, but into the circle of the Foxes a bit more. Marley just wanted Lydia to know she had a support system even if it didn’t feel like it. With the Foxes, things were always muddy.

“It is weird to see the court not a mess of bodies full of anger and blood occasionally painting the floor. Not to mention, fans cheering with bright orange face paint,” Marley said as she glanced around the court. There was always a weird feeling for Marley whenever the court was being used for something that wasn’t Exy. Almost felt wrong, but she never really voiced that. “And free food does always make everything ten times better,” she added, eyes landing on the table where people were picking at the finger foods. “Regardless, I’m really glad you came! I probably would have just ended up keeping to myself or talking to Wymack all night.”

Marley raised her glass to her lips, taking a quick sip before she used the glass to motion around the court. “I know this is supposed to be a friendly thing for all the Exy teams in this district but at the same time, it’s hard to do that. Some of ‘em have done or said things on the court that you can’t really forget. Buuuuut, always better to be the better person. Eventually, we have to forgive people for things like that.” 

“No, you look great,” Lydia said, firmly. She recognized herself in Marley’s immediate attempt to brush off the compliment, but that didn’t mean she was going to let the Fox get away with it. Marley was supposed to have a good time tonight. She was supposed to be feeling good about herself. Their last conversation was still fresh in Lydia’s mind, and now that she knew just how much Marley dealt with on a daily basis, Lydia was determined to be a good date for the night. Marley wanted to be Lydia’s friend, for whatever reason, and Lydia was going to rise to the occasion. At least for the banquet. There was still a voice whispering that she’d mess this all up, but she could put it off for as long as possible, right?

Maybe it was strange for the Foxes to see the court dressed up in this way, but she preferred it. This wasn’t her usual evening,  but neither was a game of Exy, despite her role on the staff roster. Lydia’s world didn’t revolve around blood and violence—not anymore, at least, and that was the way she liked it. The fans in orange were fine. The rest just stressed her out. She didn’t want to dwell on that though, so she shook herself out of those thoughts, didn’t voice them aloud to Marley, who seemed almost regretful that there wasn’t blood under their feet right now. That was something about Marley that Lydia would never understand, but she didn’t feel the need to bring it up tonight. Lydia wanted to be here, with Marley, not in the recesses of her own unpleasant memories. “Well, hopefully I’m at least as interesting as Wymack,” Lydia said, wryly.

Lydia watched as Marley brought the glass to her lips, already saying something far wiser and kinder than Lydia would’ve mustered up herself. Marley’s ability for forgiveness was another thing that Lydia didn’t quite understand. Lydia didn’t necessarily forgive, and she certainly didn’t forget. Her grudges were the quiet sort, the kind that burnt cold rather than hot, leaving Lydia feeling equal parts guilty and angry, but they were there. Shane, for example. She missed him. She hated him. She wished she’d never met him. She sometimes wished he was still here. But throughout all those conflicting emotions, she’d never once felt anything akin to forgiveness. “You’re definitely the better person, I’ll give you that,” Lydia said, lightly, genuinely. Marley was the better of the two of them, and she was certainly better than the other teams too, from what Lydia had heard and witnessed. 

Brayden just shrugs in response, not actually expecting her to take him up on it for obvious reasons. The most blaring being that he’s pretty sure she can’t play Exy. It’s not like he would take her up on it for real anyway. He’s fucked without his scholarship and would be a shitty Admin Assistant. He doesn’t hate Exy, he just hates the press that comes with it. Brayden isn’t meant for the spotlight, especially when it involved talking about himself in interviews. Even the simple questions consisted of him answering in one word answers, because he’s just not eloquent. It’s part of the reason that going pro isn’t even something that he ever considers.

“Who knows?” Brayden huffs a laugh as he checks in on the current vibe of the room. No one looks like they’re considering throwing punches. It actually seems pretty civil tonight, at least on their part. Wymack’s threat is clearly effective, because he doesn’t notice any missing faces. “Depends on if someone says the wrong shit, but I think we’re trying to behave tonight. Can’t say for the others though,” He gestures towards the nearest group of Ravens, his brother missing from them. Most likely, he’s with the coaches actually doing his job. 

Brayden can understand Lydia’s intolerance for a fight breaking out, fairly sure it’ll only remind her of her first experience with the Foxes. He still can’t forget that night with Shane. Sometimes, he still surprised she’s with the Foxes at all. “I’m sure you’re allowed to leave though,” He reassures her in the only way he knows how. Wymack wouldn’t force a staff member to stand and witness that. At least, he doesn’t think so. 

Allowed to leave. For a moment, Lydia feels something akin to anger—she’s allowed to do whatever the hell she wants actually. She swallows that down though, recognizing that he’s just trying to be comforting, and she's just anxious about the whole night. She must seem really transparent, then, if even Brayden wants to promise her that she won’t have to stand around and watch the Foxes fight. It doesn’t take a genius to see why Lydia would be uncomfortable with that. She hates violence in general, but violent Foxes make her skin crawl. Too bad she needs the paycheck from Wymack more than she needs her own peace of mind. 

And...to be fair, they’re not all bad. Most of the current Foxes are pretty alright actually, at least as far as she can tell. She never understand their obsession with Exy, and she’ll certainly never feel like a part of their group, but working alongside them has been far better than expected. Truth be told, Lydia kind of enjoys the job. Paperwork is simple. Easy. Everything else in her life is so damn messy—it’s nice to sit down, go through whatever mess Wymack plants in front of her, and see herself making real, tangible progress. Maybe this is just the honeymoon phase though. 

Most days Brayden feels like a nobody. He spends so much time alone in his room and avoiding interaction with his teammates that it’s easy to forget that he’s being watched. There’s fans, news reporters, the board, all of these people who know him, but he’ll most likely never meet. It’s only when he’s thrust into the limelight, being asked questions that he thought no one would know about that he’s reminded. He prefers being nobody, feels safe that way, which is why he isn’t going to try out for the draft when the time comes. 

“Wanna switch places?” Brayden asks. “You probably wouldn’t fuck that up like I did. I planned on Akira doing all the talking, but he kept asking me to help and it was all just setting me up to fail.” He know that all Foxes have to do press duty, and that he’s not excused just because he doesn’t like reporters, but jesus, what did Wymack expect? That he’d suddenly become eloquent in the span of a minute? 

Brayden asks himself the same question Lydia just did every time he goes to this thing, because the answer just doesn’t seem good enough. Still, he rolls his eyes as he recites the same shit he hears all the time. “To have us all interact without competition. As if we’re just going to forget that we’re rivals every other day of the year,” He explains. “They put us in rooms with teams that are majorly fucked up. Like Penn State or the Ravens and expect us to suddenly get along,” His gaze goes to the towards the place where their table used to be automatically, as if they would all still be sitting there, but obviously they’re not. 

“Not even a little bit,” Lydia says, without even pausing to consider Brayden’s question seriously. Her position with the Foxes feels tenuous enough, and that’s without the added pressure of being in the spotlight. If she already feels like this could be ripped away from her at any minute, even with the stakes as low as they are, Lydia can only imagine how she’d feel surrounded by reporters. Besides, working alongside the Foxes somehow feels vulnerable enough, and Lydia is quickly remembering how much she hates vulnerability. Putting herself out there tends to backfire. Hell, it tends to backfire for the Foxes too, from what she’s seen. They just haven’t adapted to giving up yet, not like she has.

Penn State and the Ravens. Those are names she recognizes, but they don’t bring about the same emotional response in her that they clearly do in Brayden. She heard plenty about the Ravens from Shane, who’d always thrown himself into the rivalry wholeheartedly, and she read all about Penn State and the infamous transfer of Zia  Mendez—but those aren’t Lydia’s battles. The closest thing she has to an emotional investment is her mixture of unease and curiosity at the fact that Wymack, evidently, is willing to go to bat for just about anyone: from drug addicts to the ex of his ex striker to the backliner of a rival team. It’s either admirable, stupid, or a smart way of getting people to feel indebted to you—Lydia hasn’t decided which yet.

“Do you think there’s gonna be any fights? Because I’m bailing if so,” she says, her expression souring at the idea. She already sees too much violence these days, and that’s just by attending their home games, where there are referees to step in if (when) things get out of hand. She’s not interested in seeing any blood tonight, thanks. Especially not when tonight’s been alright so far. Maybe even nice. Marley’s good company, and Lydia’s enjoying the free food and good music. The other Exy teams aren’t allowed to ruin it for her.

Marley glanced over at Lydia at her admission of Nashville being a part of her past. It was almost like the book of Lydia updating a new chapter, a part Marley wanted to read but didn’t have access to yet. The fact that the other was actually sitting down next to her and not just stopping for a moment only to walk away was an improvement. She knew it would take time but the fact that Lydia actually seemed to want to talk to her raised Marley’s spirits a little bit.

It was strange to see how much of herself she could see in Lydia. The old Marley who’d just come out of a relationship where she’d spent years cowarding and bruised. Broken. Marley had come to the Foxes lost and uncertain about her future. She’d spent so long reminding herself over and over again that she could have something better in her life and when she actually had it in the palm of her hands? Marley had been terrified. It felt so fragile. She’d spent so many nights on Wymack’s couch tossing and turning and worrying about being taken back home, back to the place that had nothing but horrible memories for her. Even after months of training with the Foxes, honing in her skills after three years of no Exy, she still felt like it was all too good to be true.

Now here she sat, a junior at Palmetto playing with the Foxes as a striker, and there were still days when she didn’t feel so certain but those were few and far between. She wasn’t scared anymore. She didn’t hate the world, didn’t feel like there was nothing but cruelty in the world. Marley wanted Lydia to see that she still had a life to live being happy and free from abuse. There was a new chapter waiting to be written but it couldn’t be if she held herself back. Marley did that enough to herself to know that.

Things would get better. Marley could promise Lydia that. The only thing she couldn’t promise Lydia was that it would go away entirely. Almost three years later now and Marley wasn’t sure if it did yet.

Letting out a deep breath, shifting to extend her legs out in front of her. A small laugh escaped from her, imagining poor Lydia having to listen to constant drunk ramblings from people. “I can imagine…” Marley mumbled, bringing her hand up to take another drag. She was quiet for another minute, staring out across the parking lot as her mind shifted back and forth, running through thought after thought after thought. “It was a few weeks ago, shouldn’t really matter anymore.” Marley brought her legs back up, curling into herself lazily. “It was the anniversary of my miscarriage when I was with my ex-husband. It’s the one thing that I’ve never really been able to move past. The abuse, the insults, the pain… I’ve gotten through most of that. I’ve accepted that it was part of my life but that I’m destined for better stuff, that my past is part of who I am but shouldn’t hold me back. But that miscarriage?” Marley paused, taking in a breath. “I can’t ever seem to stop blaming myself for that.” 

For a moment, Lydia was certain Marley wouldn’t want to talk about it. Not with Lydia, at least, not when Lydia had already made it fairly clear that she wouldn’t have anything real to offer up afterwards: not advice, not her own feelings in return. Sure, she’d listened to plenty of people bare their souls in Eden’s, but more often than not, they were simply talking for the sake of hearing their own voices, and Lydia just happened to be there. This was different. This was Marley, who might walk away at any moment, and Lydia, who found herself truly wanting to know what the Fox was thinking. 

It was hard to shake the idea that people interacted with her as transaction though, that connections were made based on what Lydia could give them—even with someone like Marley, who’d asked for nothing so far other than the potential for Lydia’s company, and even that had been framed as an attempt to help Lydia. So, it took her by surprise when Marley broke the silence. It was an even bigger surprise when Marley said the word miscarriage though, and Lydia consciously resisted the urge to stare at the other woman in the pause that followed. She’d pieced together enough of Marley’s past even before their first conversation, drawing her own conclusions from the bruises she’d seen when Marley first arrived and from the stories she’d heard afterwards, but that part? That was entirely new.

“Oh,” she breathed out, because as promised, she had no advice to give. Lydia was still trying to get over a shitty boyfriend, and she was failing miserably at that. She doubted she would’ve been able to claw herself back from whatever Marley had gone through. Hell, she hadn’t even brought all of herself out of Tennessee, and it’d been years—but some of Lydia was still back there, buried with her sister. She’d never buried a child. And yet, somehow, Marley still smiled more often than not. 

Noah recognized Lydia, which may have been surprising to her, since he figured most of the Foxes and Vixens encountered her at Eden’s while they were drunk. Though, this Vixen in particular likely caught her at her other job more often than the rest of his squad, given how often he visited the court. He would pass her on walks to Sebastian’s office or would politely say “hi” if he ran into her in the hall waiting for his boyfriend to get out of a meeting. Lydia was definitely a familiar face, though she wasn’t someone Noah really spoke to in depth often. He noticed she kept more to herself, or at least she did around him, though he tried not to think much of it, assuming it was more her personality and the awkwardness of running into people she sees at both jobs rather than something Noah may have unintentionally done. So, he greeted her with a friendly smile, not realizing he might have caught her off guard with his question.

“Snapchat filters? That’s cute,” he replied genuinely. “Any idea which one you’re gonna be?” Noah honestly wished he’d thought of that sooner, but he thought if the Eden’s staff would be doing that, it’d be best not to copy them, especially if he ended up there on Halloween night. The Vixen shrugged before speaking again. “Yeah, I guess you’re right; it’s just that all these articles are coming out about what costumes are already the most popular and how to DIY this and that and what movies to watch or snacks to make, and it’s seriously overwhelming. I don’t get why people are obsessing over it so early, but it really makes it seem like Halloween’s closer than it is.”

“Probably whichever one is left over,” Lydia admitted. “Or honestly, whichever one is the easiest. So...the dog one, maybe?” She hesitated, abruptly realizing she didn’t even know all the filters in the first place. “There’s a dog filter, right? I’m not...a big social media person.” Social media required social circles, and Lydia didn’t have one of those. Up until recently, she’d only used her phone to call her boss at Eden’s and to ask other bartenders if they had shifts she could pick up. These days Wymack was in the rotation as well, with questions about schedule adjustments and reminders. She’d expected that, obviously. She hadn’t expected the fact that some of the Foxes would text her too, but Lydia was dealing with it. 

She blinked, trying to keep up with Noah’s sudden list of Halloween to dos—snacks, costumes, movies, whatever. He’d already put far more thought into the night then Lydia had, and she claimed to like this holiday. She’d always been more interested in candy and liquor more than costumes though. Idly, she wondered if Noah and Sebastian were going to do anything. That was what couples did, right? Dressed up together on Halloween? She didn’t know either of them well, but it was impossible to work alongside Sebastian and not know about his relationship. They were happy together, clearly, and while she didn’t begrudge them that happiness, she didn’t feel like asking about it either. “To be fair, there’s nothing else going on in October,” Lydia said, with a shrug. “People have to get excited about something, right?”

Brayden does a double take. His initial reaction was to just try and defuse whatever she might have overheard, so he didn’t even notice what she’s wearing. Now he sees how nicely she’s dressed for the banquet, something he’s not used to, considering he usually saw her behind the bar at Eden’s or hanging at Betsy’s. Then again, they were all “dressed to impress” for the night. Blinking, he brings himself back to the present, forcing a dramatic eye roll in response to her observation. “You’re not the one representing the team. You also probably haven’t given him any reasons to keep you on a tight leash yet.” He can think of hundreds of reasons why Wymack would single him out, from the rest of the team. Most recently being press duty.

He’s just glad that she doesn’t bring up the night they drunk together, because it took a turn that he hadn’t planned on. It’s a big reason he drinks alone–because he says stupid shit, like talking about how much he hates his brother to someone who lost a sister. They’re better off pretending like they don’t remember. Though, he’s relieved she doesn’t bring up that night or mention his date, he doesn’t want to talk about press duty either. Not with her. 

Shrugging awkwardly, he averts his gaze to the crowd, still keeping an eye out for Landon. “Yeah well, you’re welcome,” He snorts. “They were asking stupid questions that didn’t have anything to do with the game. I’m not good enough at bullshit for that.” Brayden knows he didn’t need to leave, that he could’ve at least tried to divert the subject, but they got to him, and he couldn’t stay there for another second. He feels that way tonight, but he doesn’t have a choice. Sure, he could just get kicked out of the next game, but he actually doesn’t want to disappoint Wymack more than he already has. Besides, he really does have a date–one that he promised he’d keep an eye on, which he’s clearly doing a shitty job of. 

Brayden takes a split second too long to answer, and it’s more than enough for Lydia’s self-conscious instinct to kick in. She’s used to hiding behind things, whether it’s the bar counter, sunglasses, or just rings of thick eyeliner and old clothes. She’s learned the hard way that she’d rather not have anyone look twice at her. Being here, with only the Foxes for familiar faces, dressed in what passes for her attempt to look nice alongside Marley’s evening attire, leaves her feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Lydia is used to places like Eden’s, like group homes full of deadbeats. She’s not supposed to be in places like this, where people are wandering around in suits and floor length dresses.

Luckily, when Brayden speaks up, it’s with the same level of disinterest and unhappiness she can always expect from him. Whether it’s here or at Betsy’s, he’s never too pleased, and his attitude, as always, feels familiar. Clearly, he’s just as willing to ignore their night drinking together as she is, and Lydia’s definitely not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Well, perks of being a nobody,” Lydia says, shrugging halfheartedly when Brayden’s finished talking. “Don’t have to represent a team, don’t have to answer stupid questions about my life.” It’s easy to forget that the Foxes are sort of famous when she spent an entire year trying to avoid them. Maybe she envies them for having a purpose in life sometimes, but she doesn’t think she’d enjoy being under a microscope they way they are. She’s never handled pressure well.

As she talks, Lydia follows Brayden’s gaze out at the crowd around them, scanning the room full of Exy players and cheerleaders. Some look happy.  Most don’t. “So. What’s the point of this whole thing anyway? Don’t you all kind of…hate each other? You and the other teams, I mean.” They are competitors, and it’s not like the Foxes are popular. ‘Infamous’ might’ve been a better word for them, really, rather than ‘famous’.

There were only a few people that Marley would have been willing to really talk to in that moment. Wymack, always. She couldn’t deny talking to him after everything he’d done for her. Lydia? She found her way on that list. Part because Marley wanted to keep that door open between the two of them, but also because she felt like she could lower her guard down just a bit. Everyday Marley spent so much energy trying to keep being positive, trying to keep pushing herself to be better and do better. Sometimes? Marley just wanted to let all that energy go and just relax even if it meant letting that sadness in for a little while. At least with Lydia, Marley figured maybe the other would understand.

“We do, but usually we get a little notice. I think Wymack would be more shocked than anything else if none of us smoked pot,” Marley said with a quiet laugh. She took another drag for a moment, eyes following the path of the smoke before she looked back over to Lydia. Her shoulders were more relaxed now, smile a little less big, and eyes a little less bright. Marley was exhausted. That much was obvious. “We all have our little vices though. I don’t smoke that often but sometimes it’s just nice to sit out and relax for a little while. And honestly?” Marley held up the joint, looking at it. “This really isn’t that bad. Could be worse and I won’t ever go near that stuff.” She’d seen enough of it as a child and she wanted no part of it.

 “I don’t know. I couldn’t really sleep and studying wasn’t going to happen. I went to see Betsy before the Nashville game and that helped a bit but not as much as I hoped it would have.” Too many memories coming floating on back before Marly could really stop them. She knew how it was, she’d known for a couple years now that the memories would never just go away. There always there, it’s just a matter of living with it, accepting it, and getting used to it. As much as she wished she could just forget, that wasn’t possible. “’Nough about me. How have you been?”

“That’s nice of him,” Lydia said, wryly. That was a fair point though. Wymack knew what kinds of kids he’d recruited, right? He had to know they weren’t all going to be completely law abiding, or whatever. Honestly, she still didn’t know what to make of the Foxes’ coach. He seemed too good to be true, even after working alongside him these past few months, and the idea of him warning the Foxes about their drug tests just muddled things more. For all his snark, he acted like he genuinely cared about the Foxes, and that...didn’t seem fair, somehow. 

She watched Marley bring the joint in for another drag, frowning slightly as she noted the exhaustion hanging heavy on the other woman, evident even in the dim lighting. Lydia had mostly only seen Marley from afar,  purposefully keeping her distance at first in an attempt to keep Shane’s violence a secret, and then later avoiding her on principle because she was a Fox—but from what Lydia had seen, Marley always had a smile plastered across her face. It wasn’t there now. “Yeah, Nashville would bring my mood down too,” Lydia said, sitting down on the ground alongside Marley. The cement was cold, and Lydia curled into herself, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on top of her knees. “I haven’t been there in years, but I can’t imagine it’s changed much.”

Because that was the real reason why she’d dodged this particular trip, of course. This time, it wasn’t about the Foxes at all. Not really. Nashville. She might be vaguely jealous that they’d left the state and she hadn’t, but she wasn’t jealous of where they’d gone. Like hell was Lydia going back to Tennessee. Like hell was she going to a place only thirty minutes away from her home town. She wasn’t even sure what she was so afraid of, because at this point, would her parents even recognize her? And what could they do? She’d turned eighteen long ago. It was the guilt that kept her away these days, more than anything else. 

Lydia brushed those thoughts aside, glancing sidelong at Marley again. They weren’t...it wasn’t like they were friends, by any real definition of the word. They’d barely spoken, actually. But Marley was so much braver, smarter, stronger than Lydia, and Lydia admired her for it. She wished she’d been able to recover as gracefully as Marley had. Seeing Marley so tired though, talking about therapy and sleeplessness, it made the other woman seem more real too. 

marley: we all get it and with the ravens, things are always ten times worse.

marley: of course i am! i spend a lot of time with the foxes and i'm sure if one of them wanted to go with me, they would have asked awhile ago.

marley: i'm glad you wanna go!! i'd much rather go with you and we'll have a lot of fun! you just have to promise you'll go on the dance floor with me!

lydia: right, your sworn enemies. the ones with the seriously creepy background /:

lydia: well. their loss collective then

marley: thanks

marley: lmao i'm pretty sure wymack doesn't like going. the chances of something happening always puts him on edge.

marley: no, i get where you're coming from with that. but sometimes it's nice to know that there are people out there interested in you. good people. not just bad people.

marley: little me? no one asked me to be their date and i was just gonna go by myself but...

marley: you could be my date?

lydia: honestly i can see why he's stressing. exy players are pretty fucking aggro at times

lydia: uh not you though

lydia: wait, really? ur asking me instead of one of the foxes?

marley: haha i still wanted to impress, you know?

marley: thanks! i feel better about going with that dress now :)

marley: yeah, most people dress up! a lot of people seem to enjoy being about to talk about things other than exy, there's great food, and the dancing is always fun.

marley: it's a nice chance to people to bring dates too. don't know just how much dating actually goes on when you're doing school plus practices plus exy games plus everything else.

lydia: you totally will 🙂

lydia: and you make it sound way better than wymack did lmao

lydia: hm

lydia: idk it's probably kind of nice to only think about dating like, 3 times a year. but maybe that's just me.