It was late. The plain flew almost silently through the milky black sky, slowly making it's way over the Atlantic. There were no clouds, leaving the moon to illuminate the vast chasm of nothing. The interior of the plain was almost as silent. Most of the passengers were asleep, blankets pulled up and sleep masks on. Those unable to sleep were watching a movie or quietly reeding, loathe to disrupt the tranquility. Every so often an air steward would walk up and down the aisle, checking on passengers. They'd move a bag out of the aisle, or shut off a light over a reader who had dozed off then return to their cubby-hole in the back of the plain. Soon they'd be preparing breakfast.
Troy sat about halfway down the passenger seats. He was wide awake, unable to sleep on the plain. For the last few hours he'd had his tv tuned to the global map tracking the progress of the flight. Tracking the flight was a sweet torture of sorts. He was anxious for the plain to land, but at the same time he was a bit petrified by the prospect.
He'd never been to England. His decision to go had been literally life altering. He was leaving school, his parents, and all of his friends. He was traveling further than he'd ever gone before, and he was going alone.
He tore his eyes from the tv screen and lifted his window shade. Staring out at the night he thought on the last seven months. They'd been the hardest seven months of his life. In one fell swoop he'd lost his career, his close relationship with his father, his girlfriend, and his best friend. And they were all related.
A torn ligament in his knee had ended his career. It was the 4th quarter of a pre-season match-up
against a division 2 team. Troy played center for Syracuse, on of the top teams in the nation. They would use smaller schools to warm up for the "real" season. Most of the division 1 teams practiced this method. It's a way to work out all the kinks and get the team at their top playing level.
It was the 2nd half of the game when Troy went up for a rebound. He caught the ball, but on his way down stepped on an opponent's foot. He rolled his ankle and tore a ligament in his knee, As the star player, he was rushed to the hospital where they wrapped his ankle and did x-rays on his knee. It was over. Not just that season, but his whole career. He'd never play competitive basketball again.
He spent the next few months healing, not just doing his rehabilitation exercises to get back his mobility, but also coming to terms with his uncertain future. The first few days were hell mentally. Not only did he have to deal with his own anguish over losing his dream, but that of his father and girlfriend, each taking it harder than Troy expected.
His father was the only reason Troy even picked up a ball all those years ago. Jack Bolton had been a passable cager, even played at the college level. But his skill had not taken him all the way to the pros. Instead he settled for coaching the varsity team at his old alma mater. When Troy had been born he'd seen it as his chance at redemption. If he hadn't made it big, then by god his son was going to.
And it looked like his plan was coming to fruition. Troy'd been the star on his high school team, setting scoring and assist record. By the time his senior year rolled around he'd been the top pick for a number of schools. There'd been scouts at his games, calls made to his counselor, and promises of a bright and shining future. After a lot of thought and discussion, he'd settled on Syracuse. He quickly rose to the top there, and had professional scouts looking at him. It was senior year all over again, but this time he was a sophomore in college. He eventually signed with the Los Angeles Lakers, but wanted to finish school first. The was his contract was set up, he'd graduate from school with a degree, then he'd join the team.
It was all planned. The next three years of his life were planned out to the most minute detail. And his father was ecstatic. Then it all fell down around his knees and he was left floundering. Once again his dream of professional basketball had been ruined. He was lost.
He spent the first few days in shock not talking, even to his beaten down son, He locked himself up in his den and drank himself into a stupor. He emerged with a whole new playbook for the upcoming season, but not a single word of encouragement for his son. He didn't know how to console him, so he ignored the problem. Their relationship was still a bit stilted to this day.
As for Rachel, Troy's girlfriend, well...She wanted to be a baller's wife. When that dream left, so did she. She walked right into the arms of Troy's best friend, Shane. Only she didn't have the balls to actually break up with him. She cheated for three months before he caught them. When he asked her why she just laughed and said that Troy could no longer provided the life-style she deserved. She was looking for someone who could.
Her betrayal hurt, only to be compounded by the fact that it was his best friend who had also betrayed him. He quickly wrote them both out of his life. But they left giant gaping holes in his life. He had yet to fill them. Instead he'd focused on getting better and moving on with his future.
Luckily he was a pretty good student. In fact, not only had he been his high school's basketball God, but he'd been salutatorian as well. No one really took notice of that, but Troy was well aware of his academic prowess. He'd kept up his studious habits at Syracuse. He'd done so well, that he was actually able to transfer almost all of his credits.
He'd applied to Oxford University on a whim. Didn't really think he'd get in. But five weeks after he sent off his completed application he got an acceptance letter. He viewed it more as a ticket out. A chance to get away from all the destruction his bum knee had caused. A chance to discover who the new basketball-less Troy was.
The breaking dawn brought Troy out of his musings. The sun was rising over the horizon. Troy subconsciously rubbed his knee as he took in the breath taking sight. The sky was ablaze with red and orange and yellow. As he turned to take his breakfast tray from the stewardess, he decided that it was a good omen. A beautiful was to start the rest of his life. He suddenly couldn't wait to land.