The roar of the fans and the hum of the stands hit Elijah while he was still in the parking lot, breathlessly vaulting over the turnstile. He hated being late. He hated this oppressive atmosphere of mass hysteria. But the deadline for the website layout for another startup was ironclad, and money was the only thing he could truly count on.

For that matter, Elijah hated football just as much. But this was Cole's first big game, and he couldn't not support his friend. His black hair was stuck to his forehead, and his green eyes, lined with black pencil this morning, probably now resembled smudged stains. He nervously tugged at the piercing on his lip, feeling around in his hoodie pocket for a pack of cigarettes—an old, empty habit, a familiar way to calm down.

He spotted them at the main entrance. Cole, his roommate, already in his uniform, beaming and loud, like everything that surrounded him. And her. In her presence, the air always became different—clean, despite the smell of asphalt and fried food. Elijah swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing his legs to move faster. Taking a final drag, he dropped the cigarette butt onto the asphalt.

"Sorry," his voice sounded hoarse; he cleared his throat. "The client turned out to be an asshole, last-minute edits." Elijah licked his lower lip, catching the ring and wiping away the remnants of the cherry filter's taste. His gaze settled on her and he was powerless to tear it away, even to look at Cole.

Cole just clapped him on the shoulder with a force that nearly knocked him off his feet. "No worries, bro, you made it! Let's go, the game's about to start. You gotta see my dribbling, man." Cole chattered with his usual cheerfulness, hovering in front of Elijah.

The three of them walked towards the locker room, and Elijah felt like a shadow, an invisible man next to their radiance. His gaze, accustomed to noticing details, caught a moment at the locker room door. She said something to Cole, smiling, and he just nodded briefly, his mind already on the field. He didn't hug her. Didn't kiss her. Didn't even smile for real. Just turned around and disappeared behind the door, leaving a faint but palpable cloud of disappointment around her.

Something twisted inside Elijah, familiar and bitter. He doesn't appreciate her. Doesn't love her. Just a pretty toy in his hand. Asshole. But he couldn't say it out loud. Instead, he stepped closer, invading her personal space—a rare audacity for him.

"Let's go," he said, and his voice was quieter, without its usual edge. "It's drafty here. And... we need to load up on sugar before this... what did he call it? 'Dribbling, man'? Girl, does he even realize you and I don't know shit about football?" Elijah snorted, shaking his head, and started walking forward, giving her a slight push on the small of her back. A moment later, the touch ended.

He bought two milkshakes from a nearby stall, handing one to her. His ring-clad fingers brushed against her hand for a moment, cooling her skin.

The stands were even worse than he'd expected. The roar, the shouts, the intrusive music. Elijah pressed his back against the cold plastic of the seat, trying to create some illusion of solitude. He gulped down his milkshake in one go, barely tasting it, though it was definitely cherry. The cold burned his throat pleasantly but couldn't quell the inner tension. His sharp, analytical gaze followed Cole on the field. He scored a goal. The stadium erupted. Cole ran, hugging his teammates, smiling at the fans. His gaze skimmed over the stands but didn't linger on them. On her.

He didn't even look at her. When will he stop lying to her about his 'love'? The thought flashed through Elijah's mind with such clarity it hurt. He squeezed the empty cup until the plastic cracked. And then his body, already pushed to its limit by stress, jealousy, and a liter of milkshake drunk in five minutes, rebelled. Sharply, without warning. Shit. The bathroom. Now.

"I need to... uhm, step away," he muttered, glancing at her and getting up. "Can't take you with me, you know. One minute." He almost ran up the aisle, feeling eyes on him. An outsider in the crowd. After quickly relieving himself in the restroom, he braced his hands on the sink, staring at his reflection—pale, with smudged eyeliner and black strands falling into his face. The hell am I admiring myself for when she's out there alone. Gotta get back.

He returned as quickly as he'd left, making his way back to his seat with an apologetic nod. He was almost sitting down when his peripheral vision caught movement on the giant screen. His own face, bewildered and pale. And hers—sitting right next to him.

The kiss cam. Fuck!

Elijah's heart stopped, then pounded with such force that his vision darkened at the edges. He literally collapsed into his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from her. Thousands of eyes were fixed on them. His lie, his carefully constructed fortress, was crumbling in an instant under the spotlight. Thoughts swirled like a tornado: Push her away? Hug her? Laugh? Pretend to be sick? But she's looking... she's waiting. Why the hell is she waiting, idiot, she's not waiting for anything. She thinks you're gay. His mental stream seemed unstoppable. But then he truly saw her.

He saw her confusion. He saw her looking at him, searching for a cue. And in that moment of panic, shame, and hellish desire, he instinctively, almost imperceptibly, leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

His whisper was barely audible even to her over the stadium's roar, hoarse and full of desperate resolve: "We have to... we have to do something..." The thoughts crashed over him again like a tidal wave. No. No, no, no. This is the worst possible scenario. She's looking at me. Everyone's looking. What do I do? Push her away? But I can't humiliate her in front of everyone... Actually, I want to kiss her. That's the only fucking thing I want in my life. He swallowed nervously, sweat seeming to bead on his forehead.

Forcing a smile so strained it looked like he was having a stroke. "C’mon, girl, just on the cheek... like, the sooner we start, the sooner it's over." But Elijah's gaze dropped to her lips.