(AN) Well, we're waiting on Nick for chapters for all our ongoing fics except "In the End, You Always Kneel," so while the boss is busy, Warg pulls her best zombie impression for April Fool's. Here's a fandom we've let go for too long! While the main story will unfortunately have to remain on hiatus until Nick gets "In the End" wrapped up, we do appreciate the reviews for our little Grifball team! Tuney's back with a peek into what the aftermath of the championships might look like for the gang.

First Place Losers

Akira Myles

Written by TunelessLyric

"I'm a first-place letdown"

– Imagine Dragons, "Polaroid"

Arika was tired. Not just physically fatigued either, but totally and completely exhausted. She was worn down from spending so much time at the training centre, at the gym, at games, being driven to interviews and press conferences. When she had dreamed of winning the League Cup she had never imagined what would come afterward. She was caught in the fury of the media storm and there were no cloudbreaks in sight.

"Miss Myles?" asked the reporter, impatience creeping through his oh, so professional mask.

Arika blinked. "Uh…?"

"I said, what do you want to tell the little boys and girls playing house league Grifball back home?"

The Rampancy Tank wondered just how young this reporter thought Grifball players were back home. She hadn't started playing recreationally until she was fifteen.

"Miss Myles!"

"Uh, I guess they should do what they're told?" she said, having already forgotten the question.

The thing about winning the League Cup: now Rampancy was the reigning champions. And reigning champions trained harder to stay on top. And they woke up at four-thirty every morning to run to the training centre. And if they were scheduled to work with free weights until eleven-thirty every night, they worked with free weights… until eleven-thirty ever night. The entire team barely even had brain functions by the time they fell into bed each night.

Risa Oum, Arika's godsend of an agent, put a hand on the Grifball player's shoulder. "Thanks so much, everyone. We have to go now, but it's been a lot of fun!"

The formidable little lady steered Arika out of the building, pushing and shoving men more than twice her mass from her path. At least, that's what the Tank would have seen if she wasn't dead on her feet. Instead, her eyes glazed over and she mechanically put one foot in front of the other like she had been doing for the last two months. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Le-

Sunlight crashed into her eyes with the force of sixty tonnes of bricks. Arika sucked in a breath like a drowning person coming up for air. "Where -?"

Risa didn't say anything, she simply marched her charge across the parking lot and into the team car. She was silent as she helped Arika into the passenger seat, silent as she slid behind the wheel, silent as she pulled out of the lot. She didn't even turn the radio on.

As they drove, Arika's neck seemed to melt until her head rested on the window. Before she knew it, she was zonked out.

She woke up and immediately felt alive for the first time since… since… she couldn't even remember when she had last felt this good. Then guilt and worry made her stomach do a flip. Shit, she had missed the three-on-three! And the team meeting! And she had promised to be with Kiara at her friend's first physio appointment!

"We need to talk," said Risa, sitting in Arika's armchair.

Frowning, the Tank realized her agent was in her living room. And she was in her living room. And the sun was setting. "Yeah, we need to talk, I missed half a day!"

"Arika, sit down!" ordered Risa, doing her Agent Voice and Scary Glare.

Arika sat back down, feeling even guiltier. When had she stood up? "What?" she asked in a small voice.

"Rampancy's first friendly game is in two weeks, right?"

"Uh…" Was it? What day was it?

"Yeah, it is, as a matter of fact. Who are you playing?"

"Uh?"

"That's right, Vortex. And with Kiara out with her ACL, you're starting Tank and ending Tank."

"I totally forgot."

"Like you forgot you were doing and interview? While you were at the interview?" asked Risa, her voice turning gentle. "I've already spoken to the coach and the trainers. You're being run right into the ground. Had that interview been broadcast, do you even know what your fans would have seen?"

Arika shook her head, feeling like a child who had done something terrible.

"Take a look in the mirror." Risa pointed towards the bathroom.

The Tank cautiously rose, feeling for stiffness in her limbs. Finding none, she shambled towards the bathroom to check her reflection. The bags under her eyes had raised families of their own, sent little baby bags-under-the-eyes to college and everything. Her skin was coma-patient pale and unnervingly translucent from being in her armour so much and being up before the sun, inside all day, in bed at midnight. She looked like a homeless person.

Arika probably left skid marks on the floor when she sprinted back to the living room. "What the actual hell?"

Risa sighed and shook her head. "And guess what your teammates look like. You guys are being worked way too hard. Remember when being a professional Grifball player was fun?"

Arika nodded, but…Grifball…fun? The idea didn't seem to connect correctly.

"You are going to dial back your training schedule and I'm going to help you. You're going to go on vacation somewhere sunny and get some colour back after the Vortex friendly. Take your family. I'll arrange everything. We can't have the lovely faces of Rampancy looking like corpses."

She nodded again, with feeling this time. She was going on vacation. She wasn't getting up at four-thirty to run three kilometers. She wasn't staying at the gym for more than two hours.

"Maybe even go on a few dates with cute guys your age, too, hmm?" said Risa, a smile threatening to break out.

Speaking of cute guys, what condition was Jackson in? When she got to the training centre tomorrow, she was going to give him a piece of her mind about how hard he was being pushed. She was going to drag his ass out to some lame café and he was either going to like it or suffer through it for her. Yes. That's what she'd even tell him.

Risa, old reliable Risa, had worked a miracle. She left as soon as she packed up the pizza boxes, a smug smile on her face as Arika realized how much food they had packed away. About ten minutes later, the training centre commed.

Arika disconnected with a massive, stupid grin. When she showed up at the centre at nine the next morning she was going to be able to make her announcement about the team needing to take care of their health. All of the trainers were of the shared her concerns about the injuries starting to crop up.

And hey, the public image of Rampancy couldn't be some loser Stuman pulled out of a dumpster under ten pounds of makeup. It had to be the real team, fresh and ready to defend their title.