Boys

2. Routines

They had been working together for a few weeks now, but there was still a palpable tension between them that couldn't be hidden on screen and Aof, feeling frustrated with their lack of chemistry, decided to take matters into his own hands. He had called them into his office earlier that week, surprising them with 'homework'

"I want you two to go to a soccer game together this weekend," he said, looking at them both intently.

"A soccer game?" Win asked, looking confused.

"Yes, a soccer game," the director said, nodding his head. "I want you to spend some time together outside of work and get to know each other better."

Both Bright and Win exchanged a look, unsure of what to make of the suggestion. Bright couldn't understand why the director had insisted on this outing - what did soccer have to do with acting, anyway? But he had agreed to come along, partly out of a sense of obligation and partly out of curiosity.

When the weekend arrives, it's much too early, cold and damp outside, and every step is like walking through a cloud. The moisture in the air clings to his eyelashes. The mist cloaks the stadium and diffuses the rising sun into a smoky sheen. It looked like rain was coming.

Bright isn't paying attention to any of that though. He is more focused on not slipping on the steps underfoot. Why did Aof sign him up for this? He understood to a certain degree - contracts had already been signed, filming had been going on, and yet him and Win still didn't feel that "connection" Aof kept yelling at them for. But did he really have to take matters into his own hands?

He finds the row number he's supposed to be in and finds Win's face in the distance hyping up the local team, standing along the many soccer fans.

The musician was intentionally more than thirty minutes late, but Win had apparently waited him out.

Hands still planted deeply in his pockets, Bright made the rest of the way up the steps unhurriedly. Win was dressed in a black long sleeve top and light pants. Bright hadn't seen Win dressed quite so casually before, but he carried the look off well, the dark fabric contrasting nicely with his pale skin and setting off his dark hair and eyes.

Bright's lips pinched slightly when he realized he'd been unconsciously appreciating the other boy's form. Crap... he was such an idiot.

"Hey,"

"Hey," Win looked surprised and out of place, "I didn't think you were coming."

"I doubt I'd hear the end of it if I didn't come." Bright shook his head, as if just the thought of it terrified him.

"I get that. He can be rather scary," murmured Win. "But I didn't hear from you so I thought..."

"Yeah, sorry I was late," answered Bright. "What did I miss?" He mumbled cautiously.

"Nothing so far. They finished the intros right now," said Win. The crinkling of feet on the metal seats could be heard in the background.

It's difficult not looking anywhere to his right - to that face he can picture so easily. That look - Bright can't risk getting swayed by it, not when it might convince him to drop a wall or two. Instead, his gaze traveled around the stadium, taking in the crowds.

As they settled into their seats, Win's excitement was palpable. He was already cheering and shouting, clapping his hands together every time their team made a good play. Bright couldn't help but feel a little envious of his coworker's energy and enthusiasm.

As the game went on, Bright found himself getting more and more into it. The thrill of the competition was infectious, and he found himself cheering alongside Win, even though he still felt a little self-conscious.