Invictus
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 8021
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
Would have been sick to my stomach not being able to connect on something like that.
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Caesar
- Chise GOAT
- Posts: 17038
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47
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What kind of corny ass rizzCaptain Canada wrote: ↑19 May 2026, 23:41“I sure am, Miss, ” he confirmed, matching her accent with an attempt of his own.
Ajani garbage. Good lord.
Zane isn't much of a threat in the short and intermediate game, eh? #analysis
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 8021
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
Season V | Chapter XIV - Dust
Zane stepped off the team bus to a wall of noise.
Cheers erupted from the gathered Syracuse faithful packed tightly outside the athletic complex, orange hoodies and jerseys glowing beneath the streetlights as students, alumni, and locals crowded against the barriers waiting for the team to arrive back on campus.
The team had gotten welcomes after road wins before. Small clusters of students waiting outside the facility. A few chants. Some excitement.
But this?
This was different.
Beating North Carolina had meant something.
The Orange had walked into Chapel Hill as underdogs and walked out with a statement victory. And Zane had been the one to reel in the game-winning touchdown in the final minutes, hauling in a deep pass in the just in front of the end zone due to a busted coverage that had instantly exploded across sports media the second it happened.
The crowd roared louder when he stepped down from the bus stairs.
“There go Seven!”
“That’s him!”
“Good shit Zane!”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
Zane adjusted the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder and started making his way through the makeshift tunnel of fans. Hands reached toward him constantly. Phones shoved into the air. Sharpies appeared from nowhere.
He signed a few autographs.
Took pictures with students practically vibrating from excitement. Older alumni patted him on the shoulder proudly. Locals congratulated him for the effort.
Everybody suddenly knew his name. Everybody suddenly wanted a piece of him.
Normally that sort of attention would’ve made him uncomfortable, but tonight it felt earned.
For once, Syracuse had looked like they belonged. And for once, Zane felt like he was becoming exactly who everyone kept saying he could be.
He kept moving toward the players’ parking lot before his eyes landed at the far edge of the crowd.
Marie.
She stood near the end of the line grinning ear-to-ear in a Syracuse football sweatshirt that looked slightly oversized on her frame.
The second she noticed him looking, her smile widened even more.
Zane immediately smiled back.
When he finally reached her, he pointed toward the sweatshirt.
“Where you get that from?”
Marie looked down dramatically at herself.
“This old thing?” she asked innocently. “I may have made a trip down to the athletics store and bought me some merch.”
Zane laughed under his breath.
“All you had to do was ask,” he told her. “I would’ve just gave you one.”
Marie shrugged casually.
“Now I stimulated the university economy,” she replied proudly.
Zane laughed again.
“Well the university economy thanks you greatly.”
Marie fell into step beside him as they walked toward his car, Zane’s duffle bag still hanging from his shoulder.
“I actually never watched Syracuse football before last night,” she admitted suddenly.
Zane looked over at her immediately.
“Seriously?”
Marie nodded.
“I skipped the games during my Frosh last year. I never really got the appeal,” she explained. “But me and some friends watched the UNC game at the campus bar and…”
She shrugged. “I get it now.”
Zane smirked while fishing his keys from his pocket.
“You sure that ain’t just because you know somebody on the team now?”
Marie giggled and patted him lightly on the shoulder.
“It definitely doesn’t hurt that I know the guy catching the ball all the time.”
Zane shook his head, smiling to himself as he popped open the trunk of his car and tossed his bag inside.
Marie walked around toward the passenger side before stopping.
“Oh,” she said casually, “you’re driving me home by the way.”
Zane looked over the roof of the car at her. “Oh yeah?”
“I took an Uber here to surprise you.”
Zane snorted softly.
“That’s commitment.”
Marie opened the passenger door triumphantly. “You’re welcome.”
Zane shook his head with another laugh before climbing into the driver’s seat.
He started the engine and looked over at her. “Aight,” he said. “But we stopping for food first.”
Marie buckled herself in. “That hungry?”
Zane looked dead serious.
“I score the game-winning touchdowns, I get to pick where we eat. That’s the deal.”
Marie burst out laughing as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove them off into the cold Syracuse night.
The foyer of Bryce’s apartment building was unusually quiet for a Sunday evening in Ann Arbor. Usually, the day after a Michigan win carried a certain electricity through campus - students spilling out of bars in maize and blue, car horns blaring down State Street, music thumping through open windows - but after back-to-back losses to Penn State and Oregon, the city felt muted. Deflated. Like somebody had turned the volume down on the entire campus.
Bianca stood near the glass entrance doors with her hands tucked into the front pocket of her maize Michigan track and field hoodie, shifting her weight from one foot to the other while she waited to be let inside. She had dressed casually for once, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and white sneakers beneath the oversized hoodie. Her curls framed her face softly, and despite the relaxed outfit, she still managed to draw a few lingering glances from students wandering through the lobby.
She checked her phone again.
Three unread texts sat at the top of her screen.
Bryce: On my way down.
Zane: Thank you.
Katie: PLEASE come to this hockey party tonight. I’m begging you.
Bianca couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at her lips when she reread Zane’s message. Earlier that morning, after Syracuse’s dramatic win against North Carolina, she had texted him congratulations. It had taken him a while to answer, but the simple thank you had still eased something inside her chest she hated admitting was there.
Katie, meanwhile, had been relentless all afternoon about some hockey team party happening later that night. Bianca had maintained repeatedly that it was not her scene, but Katie had refused to let it go. Eventually Bianca had caved halfway, telling her maybe she would swing by after hanging out with Bryce for a bit.
She double-tapped Katie’s message to heart it just as the glass door clicked open.
Bryce stepped out into the foyer looking exhausted.
His hoodie was wrinkled, his locs fraying from tiredness or stress, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes that even his usual easy confidence couldn’t fully hide. Still, the second his gaze landed on Bianca, a small smile broke through.
“There she is,” he said quietly.
Bianca smiled back and stepped forward, wrapping him in a quick hug. She patted him gently on the shoulder as they pulled apart.
“You played a good game yesterday,” she told him sincerely.
Bryce shrugged like he didn’t fully believe her and held the door open for her to follow him inside.
The lobby smelled faintly like coffee and expensive cologne. Bryce led her toward the elevator, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“I live on the top floor,” he said casually as he pressed the button.
Bianca’s eyebrows lifted immediately.
“Oh,” she said, glancing at him. “Of course you do.”
Bryce snorted softly under his breath.
“Yeah, Coach Sherrone hooked it up last year - ain’t no shame in my game.”
The elevator doors slid open and they stepped inside. For a moment, neither of them spoke while the elevator climbed.
Then Bryce sighed.
“I know I played alright,” he admitted finally, staring ahead at the glowing floor numbers. “But that interception I threw in the second half pissed me off. Felt like that changed everything.”
Bianca leaned lightly against the railing beside him.
“You can’t win them all,” she said gently.
Bryce smirked without looking at her.
“That might work in track,” he replied, “but in college football, the goal is literally to win them all.”
Bianca laughed softly through her nose and shook her head as the elevator pinged.
The doors opened to a sleek hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Ann Arbor glowing beneath the evening sky. Bryce led her inside his apartment, and Bianca tried not to visibly react to how nice it was. Modern furniture. Huge television. Clean countertops. The kind of place that screamed NIL money without needing to say it out loud.
Bryce dropped onto the couch first, grabbing the remote before looking at her expectantly.
“You picking something or am I?” he asked.
Bianca curled up beside him comfortably, tucking one leg beneath herself.
“Your house, your pick.”
Bryce flipped aimlessly through Netflix for a few moments before slowing. Then he looked over at her instead of the television.
His expression softened.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I know we’re just friends and all that… but I’m really glad you’re here tonight.”
Bianca’s chest tightened unexpectedly.
There was something vulnerable in the way he said it. Something honest.
She turned her head toward him fully and found him already looking at her.
For a split second, the room felt smaller.
Quieter.
Her heartbeat thumped hard against her ribs as Bryce’s eyes flicked briefly down toward her lips.
And for a dangerous moment, Bianca thought this might be it. The moment everything flips for her.
But something inside her resisted instantly. Not fear exactly.
Not guilt either.
Just… something unfinished.
Something still tethered elsewhere.
She smiled instead, softer this time, and nodded knowingly.
“Let’s watch something lighthearted,” she said. “Like Mean Girls.”
Bryce recoiled dramatically.
“Absolutely not.”
Bianca laughed, finally hearing some life return to his voice.
Her phone lit up again in her lap with another message from Katie, but Bianca glanced at it only briefly before clicking her phone dark again and setting it face down beside her.
Katie sucked her teeth as she stared down at her phone screen, thumb hovering over Bianca’s contact for what felt like the tenth time that night. Still unread. No response. Not even one of those lazy little heart reactions Bianca sometimes sent when she was too distracted to type.
Katie groaned and let her head fall back against the wall behind her for a moment.
She was praying Bianca showed up eventually, but she knew how Bianca could get when it came to attendance. Flaky at best. Especially lately. Ever since things with Zane had imploded, Bianca had become harder to pin down socially. She either wanted to be completely alone or attached at the hip to Bryce Underwood. There never seemed to be an in-between anymore.
The hockey party had turned out to be more of a sausage fest than Katie had anticipated. The house smelled overwhelmingly like beer, sweat, and cheap cologne, bass rattling through the floorboards hard enough to vibrate up her calves. Clusters of guys packed the living room shoulder-to-shoulder, most of them crowded around the television watching some late-night hockey game while screaming over one another every few seconds.
The few people she actually knew there - Wade, Connor, and Antonio - were nowhere to be found.
Katie checked her phone again.
Wade had texted her twenty minutes earlier explaining that they were picking up “party favors” but got sidetracked.
That phrasing alone had left a sour feeling in her stomach.
Still, she kept it to herself.
She kept her drink full too, hoping the alcohol would gas up her social battery enough to make the night salvageable.
She was dressed to actually go out for once - a cropped black top that showed off her midsection and a pair of form-hugging capri jeans that made her legs look longer than they already were. Normally she would have enjoyed the attention she was getting, but the energy in the house felt off. Too many strangers. Too many lingering eyes.
Katie scanned the room again.
Nothing. No Wade. No Connor. No Antonio.
Just loud music and drunken guys yelling at a television.
She had half a mind to head home, throw on something comfortable, and drink an entire bottle of wine in bed while watching reality TV clips on TikTok.
She pushed herself up from the couch and started weaving toward the front door.
Before she could make it out, a guy stepped into her path with a shrewd smile stretched across his face.
“You lookin’ for a bump?” he asked casually.
Katie scoffed immediately, folding her arms over her chest.
“Do I look like the type of girl who just takes random bumps from random guys?”
The guy smirked instead of backing off. He extended his hand toward her.
“Toby,” he introduced. “I’m boys with Wade. He texted me and told me to look after you until they pull up.”
Katie hesitated only a second before taking his hand.
It at least explained why he knew who she was. “That sounds exactly like Wade,” she muttered. “Stand me up at a party and outsource babysitting duty.”
Toby laughed softly. “He didn’t leave you alone,” he said smoothly. “He left you with me.”
Katie rolled her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
“And the offer still stands,” he added.
Katie contemplated for a moment.
The night already felt ruined. She was irritated, buzzed, restless.
“Fine,” she said finally.
Toby nodded once toward the hallway leading deeper into the house.
Katie followed him.
…
Hours later, Katie limped down an empty street alone.
The party noise had long faded behind her.
Her makeup was smeared across her face, mascara dried beneath her eyes from tears that had long since stopped falling. Bruises bloomed darkly along her leg, visible beneath the streetlights every time she staggered forward.
She looked disheveled. Broken down. Like she had been dragged through hell and barely escaped it.
Her breathing came unevenly as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself against the cold night air.
The streets were nearly empty now, campus quiet except for the occasional distant car passing somewhere far off.
Katie kept walking anyway.
One painful step after another.
Zane stepped off the team bus to a wall of noise.
Cheers erupted from the gathered Syracuse faithful packed tightly outside the athletic complex, orange hoodies and jerseys glowing beneath the streetlights as students, alumni, and locals crowded against the barriers waiting for the team to arrive back on campus.
The team had gotten welcomes after road wins before. Small clusters of students waiting outside the facility. A few chants. Some excitement.
But this?
This was different.
Beating North Carolina had meant something.
The Orange had walked into Chapel Hill as underdogs and walked out with a statement victory. And Zane had been the one to reel in the game-winning touchdown in the final minutes, hauling in a deep pass in the just in front of the end zone due to a busted coverage that had instantly exploded across sports media the second it happened.
The crowd roared louder when he stepped down from the bus stairs.
“There go Seven!”
“That’s him!”
“Good shit Zane!”
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling.
Zane adjusted the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder and started making his way through the makeshift tunnel of fans. Hands reached toward him constantly. Phones shoved into the air. Sharpies appeared from nowhere.
He signed a few autographs.
Took pictures with students practically vibrating from excitement. Older alumni patted him on the shoulder proudly. Locals congratulated him for the effort.
Everybody suddenly knew his name. Everybody suddenly wanted a piece of him.
Normally that sort of attention would’ve made him uncomfortable, but tonight it felt earned.
For once, Syracuse had looked like they belonged. And for once, Zane felt like he was becoming exactly who everyone kept saying he could be.
He kept moving toward the players’ parking lot before his eyes landed at the far edge of the crowd.
Marie.
She stood near the end of the line grinning ear-to-ear in a Syracuse football sweatshirt that looked slightly oversized on her frame.
The second she noticed him looking, her smile widened even more.
Zane immediately smiled back.
When he finally reached her, he pointed toward the sweatshirt.
“Where you get that from?”
Marie looked down dramatically at herself.
“This old thing?” she asked innocently. “I may have made a trip down to the athletics store and bought me some merch.”
Zane laughed under his breath.
“All you had to do was ask,” he told her. “I would’ve just gave you one.”
Marie shrugged casually.
“Now I stimulated the university economy,” she replied proudly.
Zane laughed again.
“Well the university economy thanks you greatly.”
Marie fell into step beside him as they walked toward his car, Zane’s duffle bag still hanging from his shoulder.
“I actually never watched Syracuse football before last night,” she admitted suddenly.
Zane looked over at her immediately.
“Seriously?”
Marie nodded.
“I skipped the games during my Frosh last year. I never really got the appeal,” she explained. “But me and some friends watched the UNC game at the campus bar and…”
She shrugged. “I get it now.”
Zane smirked while fishing his keys from his pocket.
“You sure that ain’t just because you know somebody on the team now?”
Marie giggled and patted him lightly on the shoulder.
“It definitely doesn’t hurt that I know the guy catching the ball all the time.”
Zane shook his head, smiling to himself as he popped open the trunk of his car and tossed his bag inside.
Marie walked around toward the passenger side before stopping.
“Oh,” she said casually, “you’re driving me home by the way.”
Zane looked over the roof of the car at her. “Oh yeah?”
“I took an Uber here to surprise you.”
Zane snorted softly.
“That’s commitment.”
Marie opened the passenger door triumphantly. “You’re welcome.”
Zane shook his head with another laugh before climbing into the driver’s seat.
He started the engine and looked over at her. “Aight,” he said. “But we stopping for food first.”
Marie buckled herself in. “That hungry?”
Zane looked dead serious.
“I score the game-winning touchdowns, I get to pick where we eat. That’s the deal.”
Marie burst out laughing as he pulled out of the parking lot and drove them off into the cold Syracuse night.
***
The foyer of Bryce’s apartment building was unusually quiet for a Sunday evening in Ann Arbor. Usually, the day after a Michigan win carried a certain electricity through campus - students spilling out of bars in maize and blue, car horns blaring down State Street, music thumping through open windows - but after back-to-back losses to Penn State and Oregon, the city felt muted. Deflated. Like somebody had turned the volume down on the entire campus.
Bianca stood near the glass entrance doors with her hands tucked into the front pocket of her maize Michigan track and field hoodie, shifting her weight from one foot to the other while she waited to be let inside. She had dressed casually for once, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and white sneakers beneath the oversized hoodie. Her curls framed her face softly, and despite the relaxed outfit, she still managed to draw a few lingering glances from students wandering through the lobby.
She checked her phone again.
Three unread texts sat at the top of her screen.
Bryce: On my way down.
Zane: Thank you.
Katie: PLEASE come to this hockey party tonight. I’m begging you.
Bianca couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at her lips when she reread Zane’s message. Earlier that morning, after Syracuse’s dramatic win against North Carolina, she had texted him congratulations. It had taken him a while to answer, but the simple thank you had still eased something inside her chest she hated admitting was there.
Katie, meanwhile, had been relentless all afternoon about some hockey team party happening later that night. Bianca had maintained repeatedly that it was not her scene, but Katie had refused to let it go. Eventually Bianca had caved halfway, telling her maybe she would swing by after hanging out with Bryce for a bit.
She double-tapped Katie’s message to heart it just as the glass door clicked open.
Bryce stepped out into the foyer looking exhausted.
His hoodie was wrinkled, his locs fraying from tiredness or stress, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes that even his usual easy confidence couldn’t fully hide. Still, the second his gaze landed on Bianca, a small smile broke through.
“There she is,” he said quietly.
Bianca smiled back and stepped forward, wrapping him in a quick hug. She patted him gently on the shoulder as they pulled apart.
“You played a good game yesterday,” she told him sincerely.
Bryce shrugged like he didn’t fully believe her and held the door open for her to follow him inside.
The lobby smelled faintly like coffee and expensive cologne. Bryce led her toward the elevator, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“I live on the top floor,” he said casually as he pressed the button.
Bianca’s eyebrows lifted immediately.
“Oh,” she said, glancing at him. “Of course you do.”
Bryce snorted softly under his breath.
“Yeah, Coach Sherrone hooked it up last year - ain’t no shame in my game.”
The elevator doors slid open and they stepped inside. For a moment, neither of them spoke while the elevator climbed.
Then Bryce sighed.
“I know I played alright,” he admitted finally, staring ahead at the glowing floor numbers. “But that interception I threw in the second half pissed me off. Felt like that changed everything.”
Bianca leaned lightly against the railing beside him.
“You can’t win them all,” she said gently.
Bryce smirked without looking at her.
“That might work in track,” he replied, “but in college football, the goal is literally to win them all.”
Bianca laughed softly through her nose and shook her head as the elevator pinged.
The doors opened to a sleek hallway with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Ann Arbor glowing beneath the evening sky. Bryce led her inside his apartment, and Bianca tried not to visibly react to how nice it was. Modern furniture. Huge television. Clean countertops. The kind of place that screamed NIL money without needing to say it out loud.
Bryce dropped onto the couch first, grabbing the remote before looking at her expectantly.
“You picking something or am I?” he asked.
Bianca curled up beside him comfortably, tucking one leg beneath herself.
“Your house, your pick.”
Bryce flipped aimlessly through Netflix for a few moments before slowing. Then he looked over at her instead of the television.
His expression softened.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I know we’re just friends and all that… but I’m really glad you’re here tonight.”
Bianca’s chest tightened unexpectedly.
There was something vulnerable in the way he said it. Something honest.
She turned her head toward him fully and found him already looking at her.
For a split second, the room felt smaller.
Quieter.
Her heartbeat thumped hard against her ribs as Bryce’s eyes flicked briefly down toward her lips.
And for a dangerous moment, Bianca thought this might be it. The moment everything flips for her.
But something inside her resisted instantly. Not fear exactly.
Not guilt either.
Just… something unfinished.
Something still tethered elsewhere.
She smiled instead, softer this time, and nodded knowingly.
“Let’s watch something lighthearted,” she said. “Like Mean Girls.”
Bryce recoiled dramatically.
“Absolutely not.”
Bianca laughed, finally hearing some life return to his voice.
Her phone lit up again in her lap with another message from Katie, but Bianca glanced at it only briefly before clicking her phone dark again and setting it face down beside her.
***
Katie sucked her teeth as she stared down at her phone screen, thumb hovering over Bianca’s contact for what felt like the tenth time that night. Still unread. No response. Not even one of those lazy little heart reactions Bianca sometimes sent when she was too distracted to type.
Katie groaned and let her head fall back against the wall behind her for a moment.
She was praying Bianca showed up eventually, but she knew how Bianca could get when it came to attendance. Flaky at best. Especially lately. Ever since things with Zane had imploded, Bianca had become harder to pin down socially. She either wanted to be completely alone or attached at the hip to Bryce Underwood. There never seemed to be an in-between anymore.
The hockey party had turned out to be more of a sausage fest than Katie had anticipated. The house smelled overwhelmingly like beer, sweat, and cheap cologne, bass rattling through the floorboards hard enough to vibrate up her calves. Clusters of guys packed the living room shoulder-to-shoulder, most of them crowded around the television watching some late-night hockey game while screaming over one another every few seconds.
The few people she actually knew there - Wade, Connor, and Antonio - were nowhere to be found.
Katie checked her phone again.
Wade had texted her twenty minutes earlier explaining that they were picking up “party favors” but got sidetracked.
That phrasing alone had left a sour feeling in her stomach.
Still, she kept it to herself.
She kept her drink full too, hoping the alcohol would gas up her social battery enough to make the night salvageable.
She was dressed to actually go out for once - a cropped black top that showed off her midsection and a pair of form-hugging capri jeans that made her legs look longer than they already were. Normally she would have enjoyed the attention she was getting, but the energy in the house felt off. Too many strangers. Too many lingering eyes.
Katie scanned the room again.
Nothing. No Wade. No Connor. No Antonio.
Just loud music and drunken guys yelling at a television.
She had half a mind to head home, throw on something comfortable, and drink an entire bottle of wine in bed while watching reality TV clips on TikTok.
She pushed herself up from the couch and started weaving toward the front door.
Before she could make it out, a guy stepped into her path with a shrewd smile stretched across his face.
“You lookin’ for a bump?” he asked casually.
Katie scoffed immediately, folding her arms over her chest.
“Do I look like the type of girl who just takes random bumps from random guys?”
The guy smirked instead of backing off. He extended his hand toward her.
“Toby,” he introduced. “I’m boys with Wade. He texted me and told me to look after you until they pull up.”
Katie hesitated only a second before taking his hand.
It at least explained why he knew who she was. “That sounds exactly like Wade,” she muttered. “Stand me up at a party and outsource babysitting duty.”
Toby laughed softly. “He didn’t leave you alone,” he said smoothly. “He left you with me.”
Katie rolled her eyes, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
“And the offer still stands,” he added.
Katie contemplated for a moment.
The night already felt ruined. She was irritated, buzzed, restless.
“Fine,” she said finally.
Toby nodded once toward the hallway leading deeper into the house.
Katie followed him.
…
Hours later, Katie limped down an empty street alone.
The party noise had long faded behind her.
Her makeup was smeared across her face, mascara dried beneath her eyes from tears that had long since stopped falling. Bruises bloomed darkly along her leg, visible beneath the streetlights every time she staggered forward.
She looked disheveled. Broken down. Like she had been dragged through hell and barely escaped it.
Her breathing came unevenly as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself against the cold night air.
The streets were nearly empty now, campus quiet except for the occasional distant car passing somewhere far off.
Katie kept walking anyway.
One painful step after another.
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 8021
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
Might be a little seller's remorse going on, while Zane is taking things at face value. We move.
AS done burnt this man's brain. Horny ass over here.
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 8021
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 8021
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
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