#jmaas13

you’ve been avoiding me . [ from here ! ]

Had he? Jamie looks up at the Dutchman, forcing himself to focus on his face. It's said in the same way that Jan seems to say everything, which makes it even more difficult for Jamie to read his tone, his inflections. He runs a hand through his unconditioned hair. "Erm, it weren't my intention," he starts, voice coming out scratchy from disuse. When was the last time he'd spoken a word? Fuck, this upcoming match at the Etihad is really fucking with Jamie's brain.

His father. Whom he hasn't heard from since Wembley. Since he came in, denigrated Jamie and all of his teammates [ all of his brothers, the people he loves more than anyone in the world ], and got punched in the face. Whom Jamie has expected to hear from all season - Zava being signed, taking every single one of Jamie's hard-earned goals, then leaving the day of the City match. Losing to City 4-0 at home. The switch to total football, and Jamie dropping back to midfield. All of those things would've been perfectly good reasons for James to text him about a thousand times in a row, demeaning him. But he's heard nothing.

The Etihad itself - and the City supporters. The stadium he was raised to play in. And the people he was raised to play in front of. The stadium he'd sat on the bench at for five whole seasons. Jamie was among the first Academy players to set foot on Etihad Campus upon its opening - the grounds of the campus practically having his name carved into them. The stadium where he was supposed to be the hometown boy, the kid the supporters could all get behind, until he got his call up and his teammates despised him [ solely because of his talent - the ego he'd had his loan year at Richmond was entirely Mannion's fault, or so Jamie liked to think ], leading him to sit on the bench, for they wouldn't pass to him in scrimmages, treated him like he was lesser in the dressing room. But Jamie knows as well as anyone else, his history is with Man City. With the fans that would flood the Etihad in sky blue on Saturday. And Jamie left them to do an ickle tv show - there's that angry man's voice in his head again - just as he was working his way into the starting XI, just after he'd proven himself in the Richmond match that had led to the Greyhounds' relegation.

Pep. The coach that saw something in a young man in a 51 kit since Pep's first day with City - who knew Jamie could be someone more than an angry second teamer. The man that pulled him aside to ask him are you alright? and mean it - the first person aside from his mum and Paddy to do so. And Jamie betrayed him, too.

you think I was listening to a podcast about you? [ from here ! ]

Jamie maneuvers his horse closer to the person. "Hello there," he greets, his commoner's accent clear as day on his words. "Are y'alright, then? Y'look..." Bad, but Jamie certainly won't say that. "Erm, y'look... lost."

cedric  nodded  to  sam,  who  gave  him  a  knowing  glance  before nodding  his  goodbye  back.    with  the  last  of  their  teammates  heading  out  of  the  lockerroom,  cedric  busies  himself  flicking  some  imaginary  dust  from  his  locker  space.    he  was  waiting  for  a  chance  to  talk  to  jan,  eyeing  their  teammates  out  of  the  room  or  vigilantly  keeping  his  eye  on  the  tall  player  so  he  could  catch  him  leaving,  hopefully  stop  him  in  the  hallway  for  some  privacy.    he  sighed  and  cleared  his  throat  a  bit  more  loudly  than  he  should  have  when  he  still  catches  colin  from  the  corner  of  his  eye,  lost  in  whatever  is  on  his  phone.    cedric  sneaks  a  gesture  towards  the  door,  body  shielding  his  hand  from  jan’s  view,  until  colin  gets  it  and  leaves  quickly.

"Oi, Jan, I need an objective opinion," Jamie says as he walks into the dressing room, bag slung over his shoulder, still a little sweaty from his 4 AM run with Roy. "If I were an animal, I'd be a dog - obviously. But we're not all dogs, right? Like, if you were an animal, what would y'be?"