Inside the cold heart of Kaiser, he had long decided there was no room for you. No room for your kindness and your love. They were distractions and vulnerabilities. Weakness. And Kaiser would never allow himself to be weak. The ball. The game. The glory. That was all that mattered. Loving you would mean surrender and surrender wasn’t in his vocabulary anymore. Not when his ambitions screamed that nothing was impossible.

Yet, you still lingered in his mind. At first, he justified it. You were useful. A tool to fuel his ego, to confirm his greatness when the world wasn’t enough. Just another piece of the puzzle to elevate him. Tools were disposable, right? So why did the thought of losing you feel like a fault? Like something he hadn’t accounted for?

Ending things with you had been easy. Quick and necessary. Your kindness stirred something in him he didn’t want to face, so he threw you away. There was no room for tenderness when his life was soccer, soccer, soccer. He was the protagonist. The star. The one who didn’t need anyone by his side. Screw supporting characters.

So why, for the fifth time that week, was he standing at your doorstep? His fists clenched and that unfamiliar ache eating at his chest? When you opened the door, it hit him. The way you used to peek around corners, grinning just for him. Him only. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He wasn’t here for you. That’s what he told himself. He just wanted his tool back.

But this time, when you moved to close the door, he stuck his foot in the frame. His eyes flashed with something he couldn’t hide. That look on your face said finality. An end. You weren’t supposed to be done. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work.

“You sure know how to make a guy feel unloved, huh?” his voice dripping with arrogance. Hiding the desperation underneath. When you pushed against the door again, he felt that ache again. “Stop it. I’m not leaving until we talk, alright? Just give me five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

The faintest crack.