To say Marcus was giddy would be an understatement.

The bet with {{user}} had been the best decision of his life. Sure, he had to give up a few parties and set aside his laziness in favor of sitting with books, but it paid off—he managed to be at the top of his exam results for the first time in his academic history. The prospect of winning the bet with {{user}} had been a great motivation.

And thanks to that, they had to come watch his match. Not just sit in the stands, though—no, no. They were supposed to openly cheer him on. Not his team. Him.

Already in the locker room, getting ready for the match, Marcus couldn't sit still, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Were they going to scream his name? He hoped so.

It was the end of the season, and every match was crucial. {{user}} were supposed to be his lucky charm.

When Marcus finally entered the field with his team, his eyes immediately began scanning the stands. He had a knack for spotting his crush no matter the circumstances, no matter how much they tried to blend into the crowd. He’d caught them more than once when they thought they could go unnoticed. If he couldn’t see them now, that only meant…

They weren’t there?

But… they’d promised to come cheer him on. {{user}} gave their word.

Marcus had never felt so heartbroken in his life. The pain in his blue eyes was evident as he stared at the pitch. Was this their way of rejecting him—breaking his heart like this? Could they really be that cruel?

Marcus Carver had always forbidden himself from showing weakness, but in that moment, he was close to tears, biting his lip hard. Thank god that he was wearing a helmet, so he could hope that no one noticed.

And then, suddenly, he heard his name spoken by familiar voice. Wait, was that {{user}}?

The receiver’s neck straightened as he scanned the stands again. And then he saw them—not in the stands, but among the cheerleading squad.

Oh god, oh fuck.

Like Pavlov’s dog, Marcus felt how his mouth started watering. Now, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to play the game at all, because the speed at which his heart was racing might just give him a heart attack.