I have never read a career mode with a story like this. I’ll have to check out Soapys too. Crazy real life mix. This is great.
My guess is he follows her and tries walking on at Michigan or Penn? Or she follows him and her parents hate them for it?
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ShireNiner
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redsox907
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I mean - she has 1st world problems
lots of people are broke with shit parents, she's loaded with shit parents. i know which struggle I'd choose
BUT if we making predictions. She goes to Penn State to make her parents happy, but then transfers to wherever Zane commits next year. I'm saying Pitt
They RTG's around here are top notch - tons of story telling along with the actual game. i always tell em they could write books lolShireNiner wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 09:25I have never read a career mode with a story like this. I’ll have to check out Soapys too. Crazy real life mix. This is great.
Soap, Caesar, djp, Agent, and CC all have top notch RTGs
EDIT - how did I forget to add JZA into this
Last edited by redsox907 on 10 Nov 2025, 16:08, edited 1 time in total.
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Captain Canada
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Lacks vision and autonomy, but I see where your eyes are going.Caesar wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 09:14Well when you look at Soapy Perry’s crop, up is the only direction.Captain Canada wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 08:48Poor little rich girl is a crazy narrative, but considering the other female characters we got on this site, I'll take it.
Zane, powered by some pum pum, is going to jet up the boards and go to Michigan with Poor Little Rich Girl Bianca as she rebels against her parents. Lock it in.
Appreciate you checking in, brother. I think the flare for creativity and making a world around your character makes it a lot more immersive and fun to follow along. Half chise, half book club. The football is coming though, that I can guarantee.ShireNiner wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 09:25I have never read a career mode with a story like this. I’ll have to check out Soapys too. Crazy real life mix. This is great.
My guess is he follows her and tries walking on at Michigan or Penn? Or she follows him and her parents hate them for it?
I think the issues presented in this chise have been a lot more palatable and commonplace so far, which is why it feels almost strange to complain about in the first place. Bianca feels extremely displaced from her reality, but yes, she hasn't had to put her child up for adoption or have to strip for money to make ends meet.redsox907 wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 11:05I mean - she has 1st world problems
lots of people are broke with shit parents, she's loaded with shit parents. i know which struggle I'd choose
BUT if we making predictions. She goes to Penn State to make her parents happy, but then transfers to wherever Zane commits next year. I'm saying Pitt
They RTG's around here are top notch - tons of story telling along with the actual game. i always tell em they could write books lolShireNiner wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 09:25I have never read a career mode with a story like this. I’ll have to check out Soapys too. Crazy real life mix. This is great.
Soap, Caesar, djp, Agent, and CC all have top notch RTGs
We'll ramp up soon, don't you worry
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Captain Canada
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Season II | Chapter I: Up Up Away
The gymnasium hummed with that peculiar kind of electricity only spring could bring—a mix of pollen, nerves, and the scent of permanent markers bleeding across poster boards. Rows of folding tables lined the court, each draped in different university colors. The chatter of excited parents, coaches, and teammates filled the air. It was Signing Day for the senior athletes, and the banners above them fluttered with school pride:
“Future Stars, Future Dreams.”
Bianca sat near the end of the row, her own table still bare. No banner. No hat. Just a plain white tablecloth and a pen that felt heavier than it should. Her palms were clammy, and she rubbed them on her jeans, eyes darting between the schools listed on the sheet in front of her. She remembered complaining to Zane that only football automatically got hats. He rolled his eyes and shot her the smile that always made her melt just a smidge.
Penn State. Michigan. UCLA.
She had spent months weighing everything—academics, athletics, distance, reputation. And yet, as the moment arrived, her mind was static. All she could hear was her own heartbeat.
Across the court, she spotted Zane. He stood with his team, their season long over, his hoodie pulled up and his backpack slung across one shoulder. He wasn’t signing anything today—his turn was still to come—but when his eyes found hers, that quiet, grounding steadiness she loved about him cut through the noise.
She slipped away from the table before anyone noticed, crossing the court to him.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Zane smiled. “You okay? You look like you’re about to run a 400 instead of sign a paper.”
She laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I feel like it. I don’t know, Zane… everyone keeps asking if I’m excited, but I just—I can’t make up my mind. Penn State’s familiar. Michigan feels like a challenge. UCLA… it’s everything I thought I wanted when I was younger, but now—”
Her voice caught, and she sighed. “I just don’t want to make the wrong choice.”
Zane leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “You won’t,” he said finally. “There isn’t a wrong one. You’re trying to choose the perfect path, but there’s no perfect. Just what feels right when you picture yourself there—when you wake up for practice, when it’s raining, when you’re tired. Where do you see yourself still loving it?”
She stared at him, his words settling in like the first deep breath after a sprint.
He continued, “Don’t choose the school that looks best on paper. Don't choose the school that your parents think will sound best in casual conversation to people who don't really matter. Choose the one that makes you want to keep becoming who you’re meant to be. You already know which one that is—you’re just scared to say it.”
Her throat tightened. He was right. She’d known all along—had known every time she’d stepped on that Penn State track as a recruit and felt something in her chest click into place.
She blinked back the sting in her eyes, then smiled up at him. “You always make it sound so simple.”
Zane grinned. “It’s not. But sometimes the truth’s quiet enough you only hear it when you stop panicking.”
A voice over the loudspeaker called for all athletes to take their seats for the signing.
Bianca exhaled. “I should go.”
“Go,” he said, giving her a gentle nudge. “And trust yourself this time.”
She lingered a second, looking at him the way you look at someone who’s helped you find a little piece of yourself. Then she turned and walked back toward her table, her stride steady now.
When the announcer finally reached her name, Bianca uncapped her pen, smiled through the flashbulbs—and signed her letter of intent to University of Michigan.
Across the court, Zane clapped, quiet and proud.
The gym was still loud, but to Zane, it all faded to a soft, indistinct blur. The echoes of sneakers squeaking on the polished court, the bursts of applause as names were called—it was all background noise to the image of Bianca sitting at that table, signing her name with a hand that trembled just slightly.
He’d told her exactly what she needed to hear. Told her to trust herself, to choose what felt right. He meant every word. And yet, as the ink dried and the announcer’s voice boomed, “Bianca Anthopoulos — University of Michigan!”, something tight coiled in his stomach.
Michigan.
He should’ve been happy. Proud. Hell, he was proud. Watching her beam under the school’s banner, surrounded by cheering classmates, he felt the same rush he always did when she crossed a finish line—like the world was taking note of what he already knew: she was special.
But behind the pride was something else. Something quieter and harder to name.
Distance.
He could feel it already—the idea of her life moving forward, accelerating faster than his. She’d be in another state soon, with new people, new routines, new noise. He’d still be here, finishing his senior year, trying to turn his own dreams into something tangible. He wasn’t even sure where he’d end up yet. Coaches had called. Scouts had shown up. But nothing was certain.
Bianca’s future was inked and sealed. His was still a draft, half-scribbled.
He leaned back against the bleachers, crossing his arms as the crowd erupted for another athlete. He knew what this was—just insecurity. But knowing didn’t make it disappear.
“You look like someone just stole your sneakers,” a voice said beside him.
Zane turned. Cam grinned, munching on a pretzel he definitely hadn’t paid for.
“Man, shut up,” Zane muttered, trying not to smile.
Cam plopped down next to him. “I’m serious, bro, you look deep in your feelings. Like, Drake album cover deep.”
Zane laughed despite himself. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Zane hesitated, glancing toward Bianca’s table again. She was surrounded by people now—coaches, other athletes, her parents. Her face glowed under the gym lights.
“It’s just… she’s going to Michigan,” he said finally. “And I don’t even know where I’m going yet. I told her to follow her heart, but I don’t know what that means for us.”
Cam took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “You mean, like, if she goes there and you end up somewhere else?”
Zane nodded.
Cam shrugged. “Then you figure it out. Besides, it’s not like she’s disappearing off the face of the earth. They got phones. Planes. Facetime. Smoke signals if it comes to that.”
Zane cracked a small smile. “You think it’s that simple?”
“No,” Cam said, mouth full. “But since when do good things come easy?”
Zane looked down, toeing the edge of the bleachers. “Yeah… I guess.”
“Look,” Cam continued, leaning back, “you’re both chasing something big. That’s what makes it hard, but also what makes it worth it. She’s not leaving you, she’s just… running her leg of the race right now. You’ll catch up.”
Zane glanced at him, surprised by the sudden wisdom between bites of pretzel.
“Damn, man,” he said. “When did you get all philosophical?”
Cam grinned. “Right after I realized they’re charging seven bucks for these pretzels. Had to make it worth the investment.”
Zane laughed, the tension easing in his chest.
When he looked back at Bianca again, she caught his gaze from across the gym. Even in the crowd, even with all the noise, her smile found him. And for a second, he didn’t feel the distance. Just the unspoken understanding between them—that this wasn’t the end of anything. Just a new stretch of road they’d have to learn to run together, even if it meant pacing from different lanes.
He took a slow breath and said quietly, “Yeah… we’ll work it out.”
Cam nudged him. “Damn right you will.”
And for the first time all afternoon, Zane actually believed it.
The gymnasium hummed with that peculiar kind of electricity only spring could bring—a mix of pollen, nerves, and the scent of permanent markers bleeding across poster boards. Rows of folding tables lined the court, each draped in different university colors. The chatter of excited parents, coaches, and teammates filled the air. It was Signing Day for the senior athletes, and the banners above them fluttered with school pride:
“Future Stars, Future Dreams.”
Bianca sat near the end of the row, her own table still bare. No banner. No hat. Just a plain white tablecloth and a pen that felt heavier than it should. Her palms were clammy, and she rubbed them on her jeans, eyes darting between the schools listed on the sheet in front of her. She remembered complaining to Zane that only football automatically got hats. He rolled his eyes and shot her the smile that always made her melt just a smidge.
Penn State. Michigan. UCLA.
She had spent months weighing everything—academics, athletics, distance, reputation. And yet, as the moment arrived, her mind was static. All she could hear was her own heartbeat.
Across the court, she spotted Zane. He stood with his team, their season long over, his hoodie pulled up and his backpack slung across one shoulder. He wasn’t signing anything today—his turn was still to come—but when his eyes found hers, that quiet, grounding steadiness she loved about him cut through the noise.
She slipped away from the table before anyone noticed, crossing the court to him.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Zane smiled. “You okay? You look like you’re about to run a 400 instead of sign a paper.”
She laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I feel like it. I don’t know, Zane… everyone keeps asking if I’m excited, but I just—I can’t make up my mind. Penn State’s familiar. Michigan feels like a challenge. UCLA… it’s everything I thought I wanted when I was younger, but now—”
Her voice caught, and she sighed. “I just don’t want to make the wrong choice.”
Zane leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “You won’t,” he said finally. “There isn’t a wrong one. You’re trying to choose the perfect path, but there’s no perfect. Just what feels right when you picture yourself there—when you wake up for practice, when it’s raining, when you’re tired. Where do you see yourself still loving it?”
She stared at him, his words settling in like the first deep breath after a sprint.
He continued, “Don’t choose the school that looks best on paper. Don't choose the school that your parents think will sound best in casual conversation to people who don't really matter. Choose the one that makes you want to keep becoming who you’re meant to be. You already know which one that is—you’re just scared to say it.”
Her throat tightened. He was right. She’d known all along—had known every time she’d stepped on that Penn State track as a recruit and felt something in her chest click into place.
She blinked back the sting in her eyes, then smiled up at him. “You always make it sound so simple.”
Zane grinned. “It’s not. But sometimes the truth’s quiet enough you only hear it when you stop panicking.”
A voice over the loudspeaker called for all athletes to take their seats for the signing.
Bianca exhaled. “I should go.”
“Go,” he said, giving her a gentle nudge. “And trust yourself this time.”
She lingered a second, looking at him the way you look at someone who’s helped you find a little piece of yourself. Then she turned and walked back toward her table, her stride steady now.
When the announcer finally reached her name, Bianca uncapped her pen, smiled through the flashbulbs—and signed her letter of intent to University of Michigan.
Across the court, Zane clapped, quiet and proud.
***
The gym was still loud, but to Zane, it all faded to a soft, indistinct blur. The echoes of sneakers squeaking on the polished court, the bursts of applause as names were called—it was all background noise to the image of Bianca sitting at that table, signing her name with a hand that trembled just slightly.
He’d told her exactly what she needed to hear. Told her to trust herself, to choose what felt right. He meant every word. And yet, as the ink dried and the announcer’s voice boomed, “Bianca Anthopoulos — University of Michigan!”, something tight coiled in his stomach.
Michigan.
He should’ve been happy. Proud. Hell, he was proud. Watching her beam under the school’s banner, surrounded by cheering classmates, he felt the same rush he always did when she crossed a finish line—like the world was taking note of what he already knew: she was special.
But behind the pride was something else. Something quieter and harder to name.
Distance.
He could feel it already—the idea of her life moving forward, accelerating faster than his. She’d be in another state soon, with new people, new routines, new noise. He’d still be here, finishing his senior year, trying to turn his own dreams into something tangible. He wasn’t even sure where he’d end up yet. Coaches had called. Scouts had shown up. But nothing was certain.
Bianca’s future was inked and sealed. His was still a draft, half-scribbled.
He leaned back against the bleachers, crossing his arms as the crowd erupted for another athlete. He knew what this was—just insecurity. But knowing didn’t make it disappear.
“You look like someone just stole your sneakers,” a voice said beside him.
Zane turned. Cam grinned, munching on a pretzel he definitely hadn’t paid for.
“Man, shut up,” Zane muttered, trying not to smile.
Cam plopped down next to him. “I’m serious, bro, you look deep in your feelings. Like, Drake album cover deep.”
Zane laughed despite himself. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Zane hesitated, glancing toward Bianca’s table again. She was surrounded by people now—coaches, other athletes, her parents. Her face glowed under the gym lights.
“It’s just… she’s going to Michigan,” he said finally. “And I don’t even know where I’m going yet. I told her to follow her heart, but I don’t know what that means for us.”
Cam took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “You mean, like, if she goes there and you end up somewhere else?”
Zane nodded.
Cam shrugged. “Then you figure it out. Besides, it’s not like she’s disappearing off the face of the earth. They got phones. Planes. Facetime. Smoke signals if it comes to that.”
Zane cracked a small smile. “You think it’s that simple?”
“No,” Cam said, mouth full. “But since when do good things come easy?”
Zane looked down, toeing the edge of the bleachers. “Yeah… I guess.”
“Look,” Cam continued, leaning back, “you’re both chasing something big. That’s what makes it hard, but also what makes it worth it. She’s not leaving you, she’s just… running her leg of the race right now. You’ll catch up.”
Zane glanced at him, surprised by the sudden wisdom between bites of pretzel.
“Damn, man,” he said. “When did you get all philosophical?”
Cam grinned. “Right after I realized they’re charging seven bucks for these pretzels. Had to make it worth the investment.”
Zane laughed, the tension easing in his chest.
When he looked back at Bianca again, she caught his gaze from across the gym. Even in the crowd, even with all the noise, her smile found him. And for a second, he didn’t feel the distance. Just the unspoken understanding between them—that this wasn’t the end of anything. Just a new stretch of road they’d have to learn to run together, even if it meant pacing from different lanes.
He took a slow breath and said quietly, “Yeah… we’ll work it out.”
Cam nudged him. “Damn right you will.”
And for the first time all afternoon, Zane actually believed it.
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ShireNiner
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Go to Ohio State. Romeo and Juliet style.
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Captain Canada
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Zane and Jeremiah would be
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redsox907
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The Philosophical Pretzel BanditCaptain Canada wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 13:34“No,” Cam said, mouth full. “But since when do good things come easy?”
well that killed my prediction. In the middle I thought she was going to UCLA tbqh. Now where does our boy end up after he Mosses fools his whole senior season?
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Captain Canada
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Cam is a lowkey sophisticated guy, what can we say? Interesting the widespread assumption that Bianca's decision automatically impacts Zane's.redsox907 wrote: ↑11 Nov 2025, 19:11The Philosophical Pretzel BanditCaptain Canada wrote: ↑10 Nov 2025, 13:34“No,” Cam said, mouth full. “But since when do good things come easy?”
well that killed my prediction. In the middle I thought she was going to UCLA tbqh. Now where does our boy end up after he Mosses fools his whole senior season?