The band played off to the side some old tune everyone knows but no one can name.

Phichit and I arrived at the game twenty minutes early, him with his ever-present notebook and me with my trusty camera, the one I spent all summer mowing lawns and babysitting to afford. The stands already held around two-thirds of their total capacity, early as it was. Everyone wanted a good seat for the Homecoming game so they could capture their friends or crushes or that one freshman who was nominated as a joke with their phones as they proceeded down the center of the football field.

Excitement bubbled in the air, but also something else. Even before everything happened, it was one of those school days that didn't feel like a school day. Our teachers gave up on their lesson plans. No one could focus.

The general energy of antsy anticipation translated into a boisterous student section that jeered and howled more than usual. As I took pictures of the football players and crowd, Phichit struggled to find a single member of the student body with a long enough attention span to interview. He gave up on that but venture quickly, instead choosing to talk with a few players before the game started.

I rubbed the back of my head absentmindedly. "I'll come with you." I held my camera up lamely. "We need pictures, right?"

Phichit grinned and laughed. "Because you want pictures."

He was right. Still, my eyes widened and darted to the field to make sure no one important could hear him. "Hey, not so loud." I stepped closer and lowered my voice. "You're not even interviewing Victor, are you? Jeez."

Phichit laughed and then so did I, because he had that sort of effect on me. Despite his uncanny habit of sticking his nose in other people's business, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone more good-hearted. I regretted acting so snippy.

"Come on." He grabbed my elbow and pulled me with him onto the sideline. "Let's go not ogle the quarterback then, quick, before the game starts."

After talking to Coach Leroy about the best player to interview, we ended up with Michelle Crispino, a Senior who, judging by the amount of time he spent on the bench, was lucky he made the team at all. While Phichit asked him various questions regarding the game but only received irrelevant answers (most of which about a party he was hosting that night, and none of which usable), I photographed the team warming up and tried to avoid looking at Victor too much.

Easier said than done. My eyes soon drifted to the front row of stretching football players, and there he was, leading the stretches. I could hear his voice steadily counting. As Victor opened his legs and bent over to touch the ground, his legs and calfs clenched and accentuated the clean form of his body, thrusting his butt right into the air for all to see. A few cheerleaders checked out Victor and the guy next to him- JJ Leroy- to my left, nudging each other playfully and giggling. Then JJ's girlfriend and head cheerleader Isabella Yang walked past them on her way over to him and the girls quickly sobered.

Phichit cleared his throat, finished with Michele's interview. "Yuuri, are you almost done?" The game would start soon and we needed to vacate the sidelines.

His words broke through my trance and I nodded. "Sorry." I quickly snapped one more photo, a close-up of Victor, and left the field.

Phichit and I waited patiently on the track while the game commenced and the team ran into the field for the first time. He scribbled notes furiously in his notebook, the one that never left his side, as the band finished playing the fight song for the third time. Something about his manner- the crease in his forehead, the quick dart of his eyes back and forth and everywhere- made me suspect he wasn't just noting how fantastic the fireworks were. I wondered if he had a story, but he never revealed all the details to he until he had the whole picture. I had to wait.

By the time the clock started its countdown into first quarter, the stands had filled up almost entirely. Everyone, it seemed, was there, from drama club president Chris Giacometti to the aloof layout designer of the newspaper, Otabek Altin. Even Victor's foster brother Yurio made an appearance. Phichit and I attended most games, but I had never seen one so packed. Usually, whole sections of the stands went unsold. Not the case tonight.

This fact forced us onto the track for the whole game, but we still kept busy. In a brief moment of respite at the beginning of second quarter, Phichit sat, legs-folded across from me on the hard rubber track terf. I mirrored his position.

He sighed contently and flipped through his notebook at random. "I wish you would tell Victor how you feel. He'd probably take it better than you think."

I snorted. "That really isn't saying much." I sighed. "Plus, I don't even think he's gay. What's the point?"

Phichit shrugged and repositioned his hat. "I don't know. We're all friends. You could just, like, ask him."

"If you think I'm brave enough to do that, you don't know me as well as you claim."

He knocked into my side with a shoulder. "I resent that. I know you better than your own mother."

"Again, that's really not saying much." I rubbed my arm. "Anyway, I don't know. I'm honestly still in denial he even knows my name. After years of admiring him from afar, I feel like I'm dreaming every time he says hi in the hallway." I squinted at the student section about ten yards away. "Plus, I think he has a girlfriend."

This surprised Phichit. He jerked his head up. "What makes you say that?"

I shrugged and looked down. "I dunno. He just acts strange sometimes. You know, shielding his texts from me. The other day, when he gave me a ride home, I saw an open box of condoms on his floor."

"Yuuri Katsuki, were you snooping?" Phichit teased. "I can't believe this. You've given in at last."

I grinned. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I'm desperate- and pathetic, for that matter. Just don't expect me to come with you next time you break into someone's car."

Phichit laughed, not even bothering to deny it. "Don't worry, Yuuri. Once I work for the Times, I'll be so rich I'll pay someone to break into people's cars."

"Of course. Speaking of the future, have you told your parents yet?"

"About the scholarship?" He nodded. "Yeah. A few days ago. My mom cried for two hours straight and my dad actually smiled. It was weird. But nice, I guess. Paying for college is one less thing I have to worry about now."

"I'm sure." I twiddled with my camera. A referee blew his whistle in the background. The shrill pierced through the thick summer night's air and cut through the roar from the stands. "Hey, I don't have to take pictures during halftime, do I?"

Phichit shook his head. "No. I think the Gazette has that covered." He sighed. "Despite my protests."

"Good." I looked at the field, where Victor jogged tiredly to the 50 yard line, his white uniform stained green and brown from frequent tackles. "We can take a break in the field house, then."

He smiled and followed my gaze. "I see. That's okay, I guess. If you wanna see Victor that bad."

I shrugged. "Well, sure, but it's also too loud out here. A break from all his noise would be nice."

"I feel that."

A few minutes later, the team filed off the field and headed back into the locker rooms. The Homecoming court lined up around the 50 yard line as the announcer read their bios over the speaker. Phichit and I followed the team.

"I always thought Victor would run for Homecoming King," I said and Phichit shrugged. "I bet he'd-"

I froze. Ahead of me, tucked in a dark corner of the locker room, stood Victor and Isabella Yang, his hand placed gently on her arm.

Phichit jerked. "Why did you-" He noticed them. "Oh."

I inhaled sharply, my hands clenching at my sides. Victor whispered something in her ear. Isabella nodded and grabbed him into a hug, which he returned warmly. JJ led a chant with his shitty friends a few locker rows away, out of sight for his girlfriend and his teammate.

Phichit placed a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, don't worry about them. It isn't worth it. Trust me," he said definitively.

I shook my head. "I told you I thought he had a girlfriend. Guess I know why he hid it from me." I tried to relax my hands. "Anyway, let's go get our stuff."

Or my stuff, since Phichit didn't carry a bag.

I trudged over to the bench holding my bag. Phichit tried to comfort me but I didn't listen so much. About five minutes before third quarter, Phichit excused himself, giving up the role of supporting friend, and told me he needed to interview the concession stand worker, Sueng-Gil Lee.

This perked my attention, even through the jealousy. "Hey, about the thefts? Is that what you're investigating?"

He shrugged. I suspected that it might have been, but I also suspected that he had a little crush on Sueng-Gil. We both had our boys, and we both used our positions in the paper to get closer to them.

They'd have been a good couple. Sueng-Gil with his stoic simplicity and Phichit with his open-hearted curiosity.

I stood up quickly, an idea forming in my mind. "Hey, before you go-"

Phichit paused.

"- if you tell him you like him in the next week, I'll tell-" My eyes traveled to the corner a few yards away, where Victor and Isabella still discussed something quietly, "you-know-who, too."

Phichit raised his eyebrows and smiled. "We'll see what happens on Monday, okay?"

I nodded. The future at that moment seemed so impending and promising.

So he scurried off, bumping into Isabella as she left Victor to talk to JJ. She scowled as their things went flying, and I took the opportunity to corner Victor.

He sat on the end of a bench, wiping the dirt and sand off of his face with a filthy towel. All it did was rearrange what was already there.

I approached him cautiously. "Hi, Victor."

He looked up and quickly composed himself. "Oh, hello Yuuri."

"Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Bad news never affects only one person, does it?"

"Yeah," I agreed like I totally understood his statement and it wasn't cryptic as hell. "Well, if you ever want to talk about anything. I'm here."

Victor picked up a nearby water bottle and took a swig. I thought maybe he didn't hear me. Then he said mildly, "Thank you, Yuuri. You're a good person. Better than most, I'd say. I hope you know that."

I wondered what brought that on. Something bothered him. I knew him well enough to know that.

My face burned. "Thanks. You are too."

My words were earnest, but they sounded insincere, a feeble attempt at returning the compliment. Victor affected me like that.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Coach Leroy rallied his players back together.

Victor stood. "I'll see you on Monday, Yuuri." He smiled and my heart fluttered.

I think I might have wished him luck or something. But my mind ran on adrenaline both from seeing Victor with Isabella and his compliment, so I don't remember. Then he left, and I never got to find out what he was going to say.

After halftime, the game went south quickly. JJ Leroy nearly passed out fifteen seconds in, so he (and his friends, who volunteered to help him) war out of the game. His absence, combined with a distracted Victor, meant our score suffered severely. By the time the Homecoming court finished circling the track, the stands had emptied out considerably, filled now with foreign faces. I wanted to leave with them but Phichit and I still had obligations to the newspaper to stay at least until fourth quarter.

Speaking of Phichit, he had yet to make an appearance after interviewing Sueng-Gil. I thought I saw him talking to his neighbor, Minami, while I took a photo of the Homecoming Prince and Princess, but he was gone so soon after I couldn't know for sure.

Without my best friend to keep me company, I focused on the game and Victor.

Coach Leroy had him in the game constantly. I don't remember him ever getting a break, aside from halftime. He must have been exhausted by fourth quarter- he sure looked it, when we spoke. Still, he played with everything he had, always leaping and diving for the ball when it was in sight. It amazed me how collected and graceful he looked playing a sport as rough and physical as football. Hell, even his hair- so blonde it was silver- looked good when he took off his helmet, plastered with sweat against his forehead.

God, I was in deep.

"Hey, Yuuri?"

I turned around. Phichit stood behind me, not looking so good. But I was too wrapped up in Victor to notice much. "Hi, Phichit. Where have you been?"

He shrugged. "I'm getting really tired. I think I need to go."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, wringing his empty hands.

"Well, okay then. I can grab my keys-"

He shook his head. "No, it's okay, Yuuri. I can walk. It isn't that far."

I frowned, apprehensive, then sighed. "I guess not."

His house was 40 minutes away by foot. He'd get home quicker if he waited until after the game ended, and I drove him. But once Phichit made up his mind, he wouldn't budge. Maybe he wanted to be alone or something. I didn't know.

"Be safe, okay?" I told him. When he walked home from school, he crossed through a large patch of woods to reach his dimly lit and seldom traveled street.

He nodded firmly. "Of course, Yuuri." He smiled then, a smile that will haunt me for the rest of my life. "See you Monday."

I repeated the sentiment and he left. I paid no more attention to him, thought nothing of it, and resumed watching the game.

What would I have done, if I had known? Insisted I drive him home. Made him wait. Told him I loved him and appreciated everything he had done for me.

I woke up the next morning with over twenty missed calls, most of which from Phichit's parents. I quickly called them back.

Phichit's mother answered the phone sounding flustered. "Yuuri, thank goodness, you called. Phichit didn't come home last night. Is he with you?"

My heart dropped to my stomach, all breath escaping my lungs. My mind started to think of every horrific possibility. I tried to calm myself down, knowing that I was jumping to conclusions. "I haven't…" I swallowed. "I haven't seen him since last night. He left the game early to walk home."

Phichit's mother hung up, promising to keep me updated, and left me alone with my thoughts, which grew more sinister by the minute. I could hardly concentrate for the rest of the day, and frequently spammed Phichit's phone in hopes of receiving confirmation that he was okay. Predictably, I got none.

His parents filed a missing person's report later that day. This shocked me more than anything because it made it real. Phichit was really in trouble. I remember thinking that day that I would give anything to find out where he was, good news or bad news.

There are days you never look back on, inconsequential days. Nothing days. Tiny blips in the bigger picture. Then there are days that feel like nothing days, where your life changes so much in such a short amount of time. Days that you look back on and wonder how you didn't know things were about to get so, so much worse.

Be careful what you wished for, Yuuri.

The next morning, a cloudy Sunday, a neighborhood kid riding his bike down the road got more than he bargained for checking out what seemed to be a random pair of shoes, abandoned in a ditch. I'd imagine his mother was more than panicked to hear her son discovered a dead body on his paper route.

All things considered, I might have preferred finding out my best friend had died the hard way, rather than seeing it on the news like I did. At least that would have been more personal. Less like an afterthought.

Then again, I don't think I could have handled it. Seeing his lifeless body laying there, cold when he had been so vibrant, there, not so long ago might have killed me, a little more than it already did.

Some driver, drunk maybe, hit him and ran while he laid there in agony for three hours, blood seeping through a gash in his head, his organs shutting down one-by-one.

That's what the coroner said, at least. I hope that- well, I don't know what I hope. But to die like he did… Phichit was probably the only person in the world who didn't deserve it. It was cruel, even for the Universe.

I lost the ability to function after that, only having the will to lay in my bed and replay his last night a thousand times in my head. I should have insisted on driving him home. I should have pulled my head out of my ass and treated him like the good friend he was instead of an afterthought. Regret nearly suffocated me for a long time.

I'm ashamed to admit that instead of seeking closure, I ignored anything that would remind me of him. I stopped showing up to newspaper club, and my camera collected dust on the corner of my desk. If my parents noticed, they didn't say anything, perhaps just happy I was picking up extra shifts at the hotel. That was the first few months after Phichit.

I suppose the universe thought it was being funny, making his life so brief yet making him suffer so long in death. But I'm not laughing.

It's January now. New year, new Yuuri. Ha. So I'm trying to move on. It's hard, especially since moving on means acceptance. I still find it too difficult to talk about him aloud, but Phichit isn't a forbidden topic in my thoughts anymore. Baby steps. It's what he would have wanted.

And so that's where I am today. Second semester, Senior year, trying to recover from an accident that didn't happen to me and should have never happened in the first place. Counting down the days until graduation, when I can leave this shitty town and everyone in it behind.

/ /

hope you enjoyed the first chapter! a bit of a slow start for the first few chapters, but things will get moving soon enough :) please leave reviews and favorites, they are very much appreciated! subscribe to find out when the next chapter is posted, or just come back next monday.

hope you enjoyed! i always love to interact with you guys! hmu on tumblr at antspaul.

see you monday!