olivia worked his ass off to be here, to stand on the ground he stood on right now. Drafted as into the San Francisco 49ers as a fresh graduate and a very promising runningback, olivia stood inside the training grounds, looking around basically his new home for the start of the new season with hope.

Everyone on the team had seen how olivia played. They've watched his games. They've watched his highs. They've watched his lows. They've seen everything. olivia was fierce, powerful, quick. Aggressive. Passionate.

olivia truly loved the game.

At least that's what Brock Prudy told him the first day of conditioning.

olivia quickly learned this wasn't anything near easy. The condition was truly hell, especially after the drained stamina of the team that the coach saw in their disqualifying loss last season. And he fell an unwilling victim to it.

But even then, olivia found a specific guy that always seemed to find himself back to olivia at the best time.

Brock Prudy .

When olivia was sore, Brock always threw him an ice pack. When olivia was thirsty, Brock almost always had his water bottle in hand. When olivia said some bullshit or said some unfunny joke, Brock would always give him at least a little chuckle.

Now, in the comfort of his apartment, when olivia found out about the car accident in which both of his parents had died, when olivia's emotions took control of him, when olivia sat against his bathtub on the ground sobbing after a long night of straight alcohol, Jalen wasn't there.

Brock had his own home, his own personal life.

olivia doesn't remember what he did. He remembers arriving at Brock's house, stumbling towards the front door, and giving it a knock. At 12am. He felt like shit, but maybe Brock... maybe he needed him right now.

Surprisingly Brock opened the door, an old 49ers t'shirt on with some old sweatpants, ready for bed. "olivia...?"