Dale Denton | The Legacy | Rookie Year

[The JZA]

[The JZA]

We know that preseason success always translates to success in the regular season

Watch him get lit up in the first month

[djp73]

[sarcasm] [/sarcasm]

[The JZA]

SN: I forgot to auto a few ticks for roster management since I'm only controlling the MC.

[The JZA]

[The JZA]

[The JZA]

Chapter V: Talk To Em

MetLife Stadium was damn near vibrating, the kind of energy that could blow the roof off—even if the place never had one to begin with. When the clock bled down to all zeros, the scoreboard lit up like a slap to the face:

Buffalo – 13
Giants – 23

For a team that crawled through last season with a nasty 3–14 record, the Giants acted like they’d just been baptized. Fresh start, fresh win, fresh breath. They soaked in every drop of it.

At midfield, Dale dragged himself toward the logo like he was walking through wet cement. His chin wanted to drop, but he fought it off. Waiting for him was his opposite number—Jodi Rogue. The dude everybody compared him to the moment he got drafted.

“What’s up, rook?” Jodi greeted him with a handclap and a one-armed hug, the kind of embrace only athletes and hustlers use. “Good game today. You really impressed.”

The camera crew swarmed in instantly, lenses flashing like they were documenting a celebrity sighting. Everywhere Dale looked—boom mics, lights, reporters, TV feeds capturing every awkward second. Anyone watching, in the stadium or at home, got the show they’d been waiting for: two quarterbacks who damn near mirrored each other. Same swagger. Same arm talent. Same fire. Both balled out. And now the sports talk vultures would spend the whole week chewing on comparisons.

“Impressed?” Dale scoffed, tossing up a half-smirk. “Nah, man. I played aight. I’ve had way better days than this. You killed it though. Especially that last drive you cooked up. Put the nail in the coffin yourself.”

Jodi shrugged like he wasn’t sweating it. “Don’t sell yourself short, my dude. When I got here, I threw three picks a game—three games straight. From where I’m standing, you’re off to a hot start. Take this L as your ‘welcome to the league’ starter kit.” He grinned and dapped Dale up again. “Reset for next week and bust some ass, bro.”

“I appreciate that, fam. Good luck next week too.” Dale clapped his shoulder pads, and they split off to start the ritual: handshakes, hugs, nods, and empty promises to keep in touch.

As Dale followed the squad toward the tunnel, Coach Babich jogged up beside him.

“Hey,” the coach said, catching his breath. “Great game. Not the result we wanted, but the season’s long. How’d it feel to lose your first official one?”

Dale blinked at him, confused by the question. “Uh… not good? If that’s what you’re diggin’ for.”

Coach Babich chuckled and shook his head. “Not at all. But if that’s how you feel, own it. You got your first interception, first fumble, first loss out of the way. But you also got your first touchdown. Now you can breathe. Play your game. The same game that made you a triple Heisman winner.”

Dale nodded slowly. “Aight, Coach. I hear you. Guess I was tight out there… trying not to screw up the first one.”

“Oh, it showed,” Babich smirked. “Clear as day. But like I said—it's a long season. We toss this one behind us and get ready for Cincinnati.”

“Damn. Joe Burrow.” Dale said, a hopeful edge in his voice. “He injured?”

“Nope,” Coach answered, smiling like he enjoyed crushing that hope. “But lucky for you, you don’t gotta deal with him directly. Just be better than you were today. Let the defense stress over him. You? Study your mistakes, fix ’em, and come back sharper. Solid?”

“Golden,” Dale replied.

The Bills marched down the corridor as the losers of Week 1, but there wasn’t a single head hung low. Not really. This was a 13–4 squad last season. A team with a winning culture. And even after losing Josh Allen to free agency, the belief in Dale Denton ran deep.

He’d shown flashes—no, not flashes, glimpses—of something special. Something dangerous. Something worth betting a franchise on.

And despite the loss, Buffalo knew one thing for sure:

Their new quarterback wasn’t a question mark.

He was the answer.


———————————————————————————————————


It's been a month since Layla announced to Dale that she was pregnant. With the win of not being Kian's father being washed out by the fact that he will be the father of Layla's child, Dale was in limbo with his freedom from the shackles of fatherhood being extremely short-lived. Be that as it may, Dale finally came around to the idea of being a father, being happy that the woman he loves, harbors his child growing inside her. Layla watched the game from home, watching Dale battled it out against Jodi Rogue and the New York Giants, as she bantered on the phone with Zara. Once the game had concluded, Layla tells her best friend the good news.

"Zara, sweety, I got some green tea for you and I can hardly believe it myself!" Layla says with her excitement riling up. "I mean, a few months ago I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea of being in a real, committed relationship, dealing with Dale's ex-girlfriend budding in with her child," She pauses for a moment before continuing. "And now... now I'm going to be a mother!"

Layla squeals excitedly into the phone, a huge grin plastered across her face as she rubs her still-flat belly.

"I know we haven't known each other for super long, but Dale... he's just amazing. The way he stepped up and embraced this news, even though it came as a bit of a shock... I swear, that man just keeps getting better and better."

Zara sighs dramatically. "Ugh, I can practically hear your ovaries screaming with joy from here. You're so far gone for this guy, it's almost nauseating." Zara's tone is teasing, but there's a hint of envy beneath her words. "I'm genuinely happy for you though, Lay. You deserve all the mushy, happily-ever-after shit after the hand life dealt you. And if Dale's the one to make it happen... well, I guess he's not completely useless." She laughs, trying to keep the mood light.

Layla giggles at Zara's teasing, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "Oh hush, you big softy. I know you're secretly thrilled to be a Godmother." She pauses, biting her lip as a sudden wave of emotion hits her.

"You know, I never thought I'd have this - a partner who loves me unconditionally, a baby on the way... I feel so blessed, so grateful. And terrified, if I'm being honest. But mostly just... happy. Truly happy."

Zara smiles softly, her sarcastic front momentarily dropping. "I'm really glad you're happy, Lay. Truly. You've been through so much shit, and if anyone deserves a fairy tale ending, it's you." She clears her throat, sounding a little choked up. "And hey, if this baby comes out with half the charm and charisma of its mama, the world better watch out. Little miss Layla 2.0 is gonna be unstoppable."

Layla groans softly through her side of the phone, rubbing her temples. "I know it's terrible to say, but I really hope it's a boy, Zara. I just... I don't want to have a daughter growing up and feeling like she has to use her body to get by in this world. I've seen firsthand how nasty people can be, how they'll try to take advantage and exploit you at every turn." She shudders slightly, old memories surfacing.

"I want my child to grow up feeling safe, respected, loved... like they can accomplish anything just by being themselves, not by selling an image or a fantasy. Does that make me awful for hoping for a son?"

Zara frowns thoughtfully. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with having a preference. And given your history, it's completely understandable that you'd feel this way." Zara's voice softens, filled with compassion.

"But you know, you shouldn't sell yourself short, Lay. The fact that you're even thinking about this, that you're already considering what's best for your future child... that shows what an incredible mother you're going to be. If you do have a girl, your daughter would be lucky to have you as a role model, teaching her to be strong, confident, and true to herself."

Suddenly hearing keys jigging at the door, Zara ends the call abruptly after giving a excuse beforehand. "Shit, that muse be Dom. I didn't realize he'd be back so soon." Zara said to herself. She quickly puts the phone down, trying to compose herself and look comfortable on the couch as the TV plays soft background noise.

Dom walks inside his apartment, spotting Zara on the couch. Dom had a sketchy look of distrust on his face as eyes locked onto Zara. He greets her coldly as he settles in. "What's up, Z?"

Zara catches wind of his cold energy towards her, "Hey yourself. What got your panties in a bunch? Something happened?" she asked quisitively.

Dom let his eyes linger a moment longer before trailing off to the kitchen, grabbing a cold beer from the fridge. Popping the cap, he returns to the living room. He takes a long swig of his beer, avoiding Zara's gaze. "Nah, nothing's up. Just been a long day, ya know?" He shrugs noncommittally, sprawling out on the armchair across from her.

"So, whatcha up to? Watching more of that sappy romance shit you love so much?" Dom's tone is dismissive, but there's an undercurrent of tension in his words.

Zara raises an eyebrow at Dom's evasive answer, sensing his agitation.

"Mhmm, and here I thought you'd be in a better mood, considering you're finally home early for once." She leans back, studying him intently. "And no, as a matter of fact, I was just catching up with a friend actually." Zara responded, holding her breath slightly as she waits for Dom's response.

Dom's eyes narrow slightly at the mention of Zara talking to a friend, his grip tightening subtly on his beer bottle. A flicker of suspicion crosses his face before he quickly masks it with indifference."Is that right? And who might this 'friend' be?"

He asks casually, taking another sip of his beer. Inside, however, his mind is racing. He's been keeping tabs on Layla, and he knows she moved out of Texas with her boyfriend. Could Zara be talking to her? The thought makes his blood boil, but he refuses to let it show. Not yet.

"Hope they ain't filling your head with too much nonsense."

Zara shrugs nonchalantly, not wanting to reveal too much. "Just an old acquaintance, nothing important. We were just catching up on lost time. "She replies vaguely, hoping to avoid further questions. She can sense Dom's suspicion, and it puts her on edge. Zara knows she needs to tread carefully, lest she tip Dom off to Layla's new situation.

"Anyway, enough about my boring conversations. What about you? Any new 'business ventures' I should know about?"

Dom's lips curve into a smirk at Zara's question, a wicked gleam in his eye as he leans forward. "Oh, I've got a few irons in the fire, you could say. Nothing concrete yet, but I'm working on it. Gotta re-establish myself, ya know?" He takes another swig of his beer, studying Zara's face intently. "Why, you interested in getting back into the game? I seem to recall you having quite the head for numbers."

Dom's voice is casual, but there's a underlying threat in his words, a subtle warning not to get too curious.

Zara scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Pass. I told you when you got out, I'm done with that life. I meant it."

She stands up abruptly, grabbing her empty glass. "I'm going to grab a refill. You want anything?" She asks, already heading to the kitchen.

In truth, Zara just needs an excuse to get away from Dom's probing gaze and unsettling presence. She can feel the old Dom, the cruel and manipulative Dom, beginning to surface. And she knows she needs to keep her guard up.

As Zara returns with her drink, Dom abruptly stands up, slamming his beer bottle on the coffee table. His eyes bore into hers, a dangerous glint in their depths."Cut the shit, Zara. You weren't just chatting with an 'old acquaintance'. You were talking to Layla, weren't you?"

He takes a step towards her, his voice lowering to a menacing growl. "I know that bitch skipped town with her new boyfriend. So why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

Zara's eyes widen in surprise before quickly narrowing, her own anger flaring at Dom's accusatory tone. She stands her ground, refusing to back down. "Wow, you've got some nerve, accusing me like that." She scoffs, crossing her arms defensively with her glass of wine.

"First of all, Layla is none of your damn business anymore. You lost that right when you put your hands on her. Secondly, even if I did know where she was, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you. I'm not helping you stalk or harass her. You need to let her go, Dom. Give that shit a rest, it's over."

Dom's face contorts with rage, his fists clenching at his sides. He takes another aggressive step towards Zara, backing her up against the wall. "Let her go? That bitch is MINE, you hear me? She'll always be mine." He slams his hand against the wall beside her head, making Zara flinch. "I know you've been helping her, covering for her. Where is she, Zar'? Tell me now, before I lose my patience."

Dom's voice is a low, dangerous hiss. His eyes search Zara's face, looking for any sign of weakness or hesitation. Inside, a storm of jealousy and possessiveness rages.

Zara's heart began to race as she puts her glass down, but she forces herself to meet Dom's gaze steadily. She won't let him intimidate her. "I won't tell you shit, Dom. Layla left you because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. Because you hurt her, over and over again. She deserves to be free of you and your toxic bullshit."

Her voice trembles slightly with emotion, but her resolve remains firm. Despite her personal feelings of envy for Layla, her words rung true. "I won't help you destroy her life again. She's moved on, and you need to do the same. It's over, Dom. Layla is not your property, and I won't let you treat her like she is. You act like she's the only woman in your life with a pussy. What's wrong? You can't find someone else to keep your dick hard or something?"

Zara goaded him with leering eyes as she pressed off the wall, stepping to Dom. "And I wish you put your mother fucking hands on me. You know me, I'll bust your mother fucking ass, Dom."

Dom stares down Zara for a long, tense moment, his jaw clenched and eyes burning with fury. He knows she's not bluffing - he's seen firsthand the damage Zara can inflict with her fists.

There was this one time in the old neighborhood, she laid out this big mouth 300 lbs bastard who wouldn't quit running his jaw. Laid him out clean. Chills ran down Dom's back at the memory. As much as he hates to admit it, Zara is the one bitch he knows better than to push too far. At least, not without serious consequences. Reluctantly, he takes a step back, his posture relaxing slightly.

Zara holds Dom's gaze a moment longer, making sure he understands she means business. Only when she's certain he won't press the issue further does she relax, though only slightly. She keeps her arms crossed and eyes narrowed as she watches him warily.

"That's what I thought. Now, I suggest you take a step back, calm the fuck down, and accept that Layla is gone." Zara paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. "She's moved on, and you need to do the same. Hounding after her isn't going to bring her back. It's only going to land your ass back in prison. Is that what you want, Dom?"

Dom begins to pace the floor like a caged animal, his mind reeling with the thought of Layla being happy with another man. It's almost too much to bear. He feels the anger building inside him, a pressure cooker ready to explode. He needs a release, a target for his rage. When Zara doesn't respond to his outburst, Dom grabs the nearest object, a lamp, and hurls it across the room.

[The JZA]

[The JZA]

[djp73]

Jodi Rogue sighting!