It Never Seems
Thank you for all the comments! Sorry this is late, I'm sure you don't want excuses. : ) Keeping this short and simple so you guys can enjoy this installment. Any questions will be answered in a PM. Enjoy!
CAli
Ch. 1 – The Life Now
October 22, 2008. The Northwest
His heart pumped. In high school, his heart was normal. During physicals, the nurses always noted his heart pumped at 121 beats per minute. Three years ago, a nurse noted candidly that his heart pumped normally at 141 beats per minute. She never noted the abnormality.
His heart pumped faster because he was always on edge. Right now was no different.
He had to punish this kid. And he saw the fear in the kid's eyes. He detected it even before the kid knew he was giving off his weakness. And he was trained. He was trained to see the fear and exploit it.
He almost felt bad. He was about to end this kid and he remembered vaguely the same fear in his eyes. Like he knew it was the end, but he still held on hope that things will change.
Hope doesn't exist anymore.
He calculated. He was playing with kid, like cat and mouse. He taunted him. He circled him and gave him hope. But he was about to dash that hope. The kid couldn't handle it. None of them could.
He was ruthless that way. Giving them hope before yanking it away. After all, it happened to him. Nothing was to hope for. Hoping led to shatter dreams.
He heard the taunts in his head. Or maybe it was out loud. He couldn't tell these days.
He looked up. It was time. It had to be smooth or else people will suspect. And he couldn't call attention to himself.
He moved forward and the kid moved back. The fear was in his eyes. The kid had no idea what to do and he recognized it. Instinct took over.
He moved quickly to the left. The kid tried to follow but he was too slow. He took advantage of the movement. With quickness like a puma, he moved to the right. The kid couldn't move in time. He moved past him and despite of the amplified sound, the only thing that echoed in his existence was the tear followed by the yell of pain.
He acted like he didn't hear anything. With quickness and smoothness, he crossed the kid and dribbled to his right. His quickness made his body cut the right wing to the driving lane with perfection. In his languid motions, he jumped and the ball in his hands felt delicate. He shot and he hit a 15-foot jumper before the whistle echoed.
The basket counted, of course. But cheers turned into "oh, my god's" and hushed chatter. Referees and coaches and physical trainers rushed the court to the kid. Seattle Supersonics' fans stayed in their seats waiting to see if the kid will get up.
He knew the kid will never get up without assistance. He recognized the vulnerability and took advantage. He didn't want to, but he had to. And to cover his tracks, he acted like he just realized the injury; like he was just focused on the play.
Nobody knew. Nobody knew except him and his boss and his boss's henchmen that the injury was intentional.
But he played his part as he knew the camera will focus on his facial expressions. He schooled his face to look concerned. His hands were on his white shorts where his hips met and he played tired but concern. Sweat dripped from hairline and he made sure to smooth his hair back in concern. His fans will think such a shame. He didn't mean to cause the injury. As far as his fans were concern, the kid was overzealous in his workout and his body gave up.
They don't know he made sure to tire this kid out all game. They didn't know he was purposelessly making the kid overwork himself to keep up. They didn't know he was being aggressive on purpose. They didn't know the kid was a liability the next game and that was why he targeted him. They didn't know he purposelessly killed this kid's dream.
Like he predicted, the kid walked off the court with the help of coaches and physical trainers and he was ruled injured the rest of the game.
He wanted to care, but he didn't. He gave up on hope a long time ago.
CA
After a shower and media interviews where he faked-concerned the fate of the kid but boosted his statistics, he finally made it back to his condo.
Thunder clashed loudly followed by lightening. He knew the predictability. After the lightning, thunder will follow and for the rest of the night lightning and thunder will play tag. The rain pounded against his high-rise windows that luminated his living room showing bare furniture.
He hated rain and thunderstorms. They reminded him of that night. But that's what he gets for being in the Northwest. So just like his life the past three years, he ignored the rain. He ignored everything. Including his teammates who wanted to hang out at a club and talk about that kid's injury.
He refused to think about the kid. If someone paid attention, that kid was his tenth player he'd taken out in the last two years. It was all for his boss and he hated it. He just wished. He just wished he could go back to the life three years ago. But all he could remind himself was six more months. Six more months and he's done.
He dropped his keys when he came in. The condo was dark and he liked it that way. But the only thing that was giving light besides the lightening being friends with the moon was the red blinking light. He frowned. He didn't like light. One of the things he rarely liked was the dark. He couldn't control the lightning, but he could control the red blinking light.
He pressed the button on his answer machine roughly and kept walking to his room, where there was no door. It was ironic for him to have his place with no doors, besides the front. For someone who liked privacy he wanted the no-doors. It made it easier to get where he wanted in case something went wrong. The no-doors made it easier to retrieve the small hand gun. After all, he was in a business where no one should trust anyone.
His voice echoed in his condo and he hated it. He was in his bathroom, clutching his sink while he listened to his boss' praise booming in his sanctuary. He bowed his head because he couldn't stand to look at him right now. He listened intently even though the message was being transmitted through amplified speakers.
"Saw the game, great job, kid. He was messing with the business. We're gonna make plenty of money with the Trailblazers next week without him in it. Oh, you're next game. I got a cocky sonvabitch betting on you. Thinks you're gonna score 50. I doubled-him nothing. You're to score under 20, got it? Come by normal hours for more… formal instructions. Great job, Keith Lee, star shooting guard of the Seattle Supersonics."
He ended the message with an evil cackled. He hated him with a passion. He ruined his life and made him a slave. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter he's playing his dream. He's playing as a slave. He'd rather be blacklisted.
Keith Lee looked up. His dirty blond hair and bluest-blue eyes stared back at him. He covered his tracks well. He grew out his hair. He couldn't be a true blond, but the bleach worked in his favor, even though his hair was black. He even dyed his eyebrows and facial hair to make it more realistic. The only thing he couldn't change was his eyes. But looking now, his eyes were different. They weren't lively anymore. They were dead.
Just like Nathan Scott. He wasn't Nathan Scott anymore. He died three years ago, when he had to leave his wife and baby boy all because he was stupid and desperate. Nathan Scott died and he was Keith Lee now.
He had to be Keith Lee to protect them.
October 23, 2008. The South
"Hi, Haley, it's Julia again. I'm just calling to remind you about your portion of the project. You were supposed to write the defense against our proposal that Dracula was gay?"
"Oh, shit," Haley said, as her eyes widened as she listened to her voicemail. She totally forgot about her portion.
"Mama, what's shit?" Her son, Jamie asked, his blue-green eyes widen.
Apparently "shit" was more interesting than playing with his peas. In response, Haley's doe brown eyes widen. She could have sworn she muttered the curse word low.
Like the parent she was, she answered in the softest sweetest voice she used to reassure her son. "Nothing, baby. Eat your peas. They're your best friends."
"No, they're not. My best friends is Uncle Lucas."
"Friend, baby. Uncle Lucas is one person."
"Huh?"
She bit the inside of her lower lip to stop the frustration. Of course her three-year-old son wasn't going to know anything about grammar. She was just so out of it today. Her portion of the paper – that her group was depending on her for – was due and now she had to worry about it. Her son obviously doesn't know grammar which is such a fail on her part since she's the grammar queen and all things English and she can't even get a simple task done, like get her son to eat his peas.
It was times like these where Haley wished she was a different person. She wished she didn't have to worry about a damn paper arguing Dracula was gay. Hell, all he really did in the book was go for women. But her group wanted to be edgy and one of the idiots (she doesn't remember who) remembered reading somewhere that Bram Stoker was gay. Her groups latched onto the idea, because of course, all authors of that time were just repressed homosexuals. At the time, she didn't care. She just stayed quiet in the group meeting and shrugged her shoulders.
She could care less if Dracula was gay. She could care less if all authors were secretly gay and used their characters to mask the immoral, sinful lifestyle. School was boggling her down and she had a three-year-old to take care of. What she really cared about was a time where things were perfect. A time where she was just pregnant and had a caring husband that just knew when to take care of her without asking what was wrong.
School was getting to her but she was so close to graduating. She had to make due. She needed a degree to provide for her son. Jamie was her everything. Despite being abandoned in her seventh-month of pregnancy and spending three years incredibly hurt, angry and sad at Nathan for leaving, she never once regretted Jamie.
Sure, Jamie gave her a hard time. It was to be expected when being a single mom. She had the pressure of not only providing for a child but raising the child and she had to balance school. Jamie didn't understand her sacrifices just yet and he was a touchy-feely child. He needed his mother almost constantly and when she couldn't muster the energy to walk out of class because Jamie wanted her to play with his toy with him, he'd throw a crying tantrum that could make her almost scream at him just to stop. She never did.
The pressure got to her sometimes. But in the end, it was worth it for her son. She needed Jamie. Even though she thought Nathan as a bastard every day, Jamie was still her connection. They made a beautiful child. Jamie had the intuitiveness of her and the stubbornness of his father. Physically, he looked like his best friend. And even though he gave her a hard time most of the time, she knew he was going to grow up a good kid. When it came down to it all, Jamie just really wanted his mother.
"Did someone say my name?"
Haley turned to her kitchen door to find her and her son's best friend enter with a little smile on his face that made all the girls swoon in Tree Hill. She even caught Jamie one time practicing that same smile.
"Uncle Lokus!" Jamie said, the spoon in his hand completely forgotten as he tried to wiggle out of his booster chair.
"Hey, Jim-Jam! How's my favorite doing?"
"Avoiding my peas. Mama said they're my best friends but you are."
"You bet your Scott-butt you are!"
Lucas kissed her on the cheek before moving to hug her son. Jamie squealed as he tried to squeeze with all his might around Lucas' neck as Lucas chuckled. Wordlessly, Lucas removed the buckles that confined Jamie and had him snug on his hip and Jamie talked animatedly about what happened on Scooby-Doo that morning.
Haley smiled at the sight. Even though they were brothers by blood, Nathan and Lucas looked different. Nathan took the pale, darker version of the Scott brothers while Lucas occupied the dirty-blond brooding, tortured artist. Nathan through and though was the athlete. She didn't know how it happened but her son looked more like his uncle than his father. Plenty of people in Tree Hill still think she and Lucas had an affair. But while Jamie looked like his uncle, personality he was his father. Haley hated it most days, but there was some where she slipped and missed her husband.
She just couldn't believe Nathan turned into his father. He always vowed to her he was nothing like him, and even to this day, a tiny part of her still believed that. How Nathan disappeared still doesn't make sense. But right when she thought about how that night didn't make any sense, the anger showed up on the dime. He's probably playing basketball somewhere right now, she just had no clue where.
"You okay, Hales?"
Haley looked up to see Lucas staring. He frowned a little bit but kept his voice light to make sure Jamie didn't pick up on the distress. He still held Jamie in the exact spot – snug on his hip – as he bounced him a little bit but his face was directly on hers. She noticed not only did she zone out on them but her phone was still on her ear. She quickly pressed the red button and set the phone on the counter before giving her best friend a huge smile, even though they both knew the smile was fake.
"Yeah. Thank God you came by, Luke. I completely spaced on this group project. I need to get my part done ASAP. Do you mind distracting Jamie?"
"Of course not. I came by anyway for our annual uncle/nephew bonding time. What do you say I teach you free throws Jim-Jam at the river court and then how to pick up girls with just your eyes?"
"Yeah!" Jamie said his hands in fist-pumps.
Haley laughed at the scene. "Don't teach my son how to be a heart-breaker," she said, before moving to say good-bye. "Bye, baby. Be good for mama. I love you." She gave him a big wet kiss on his cheek.
He returned the favor, adding smooching sounds that he only did with her. "Love you too, mama!" Lucas nodded at her before walking them out and she heard the last sayings of her son before she blew out a breath and tried to figure out how to bullshit that Dracula was gay.
"Uncle Lokus, what's gay?" Jamie asked.
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CAli