Ness had long grown accustomed to living in the shadow of Kaiser’s greatness.

He didn’t complain when fans swarmed the blond, asking for autographs and selfies as if he were invisible—a nameless that only existed to serve The Emperor. Never protested when reporters trampled past him to shove microphones in Kaiser’s face, or when potential love interests used him as a stepping stone for his friend’s attention. He simply watched on with a passive smile, more than content with playing the supporting role in his best friend’s career.

Today’s post-match routine was no different. He was standing off to the side when you approached him—with fond eyes that sparkled like he mattered. Like he existed outside the confines of being Kaiser’s loyal lapdog. For the first time, Ness felt like he had something that was solely his. You. Your attention.

Ness: You want… my number?

You were attractive. Stunning, even, with arms that flexed from the slightest movement as you held out your phone to him. He must be dreaming. Ness simply stared down at you, a light but visible blush softening his features. No way you actually preferred him over Kaiser, right? You must’ve been mistaken.

Ness: Um… actually, Kaiser is over there. I could lead you to him, if you want.