"So starting today you're a permanent player in the team."
I stood in silence, blinking a thousand times as I tried processing her words. "Wha- What do you mean...? Why me? I'm sure someone else would be glad to-"
"If not you then you would just cause more trouble for the team."
The thought of his parents came to mind, causing a flood of emotions to overwhelm me. I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, breathing deeply as I organized my thoughts.
Chris was never good at academics, his only hope in maintaining their perfect family image was sports, it was all he had to make them 'proud'.
But knowing how he tried to quit before, it seemed like Chris had already recognized it was hopeless trying to please them, hence his barbaric lifestyle.
But that didn't mean he was free, hope still lingered, the desire remained like an old stain that couldn't be washed away.
After all, he had been living that way for his entire life. One splash of water isn't enough to remove a stain that had been there for so long.
I suddenly felt heavy as if kilograms of weight were pulling me down. If I were to refuse I would continuously cause fear onto others as they wait on who'll be next to be replaced.
Like a game of russian roulette, dreading who'll be shot with the bullet next.
And I won't be excluded in that game, having one more in my dozens of problems to worry about with my murderer in close proximity. As much as I was guilty for the trouble I didn't even cause, the risk was too large for me to take.
It'll only be a matter of time before either bullet will shoot me first.
But there was something pulling me back, something clouding my thoughts. I knew the risk, I knew this would would kill me, but that condescending tone, and that disappointed face that I'll never get used to, the thought of it terrified me.
The female lead will soon be introduced, so I will have to stray away from the plot as much as possible to avoid hurting anyone.
If I were to really murder people then it would ruin me.
With a shaky breath, I raised my chin before responding, "Nnn...." The word no was at the tip of my tongue, but it wouldn't come through.
"Nnh...!"
Coach was still waiting, her face unmoving. The team all looked confused as they shifted their gazes, whispering amongst each other.
"What the hell's wrong with him?"
"Did he just moan?"
"Just fucking answer already...!"
I felt an urge I couldn't explain. Countless of thoughts flooded through, the dreadful headache coming back once again. My heart weighed heavily at the thought of my parents. Their words, their faces, I've experienced it far too many times. It was nauseating.
Mother will be angry.
Father will be disappointed.
I gripped my hair, puzzled at the strange thoughts. Those thoughts were most definitely not my own, I didn't know why I would be so affected by it.
But it somehow felt... right.
It made sense, it fitted right in like a puzzle piece.
I shook my head, gripping my hair tighter. My headache worsened as I tried shifting away as best as I could from the terrifying thoughts.
"I'm... sorry... but I'm going to have to... decline..." I finally managed to utter out despite my entire body trembling in fear, and my voice rose up and down in random octaves. Although it sounded almost inaudible, I had gotten my point across seeing how the team instantly rejoiced.
Unfortunately, it was short-lived. "Oh no I wasn't asking, I was telling."
Everyone went silent and with that single statement, it didn't take long for the entire rink to erupt in chaos.
"Coach please think this through!"
"Why him?! Can't we just drag James back?!"
"Not that asshole!"
Their complaints came to one ear and out the other, my full attention was on coach as anger and bewilderment gradually surfaced through.
I didn't even notice my headache was gone.
"Coach, I really am not cut out for this! Please reconsider-"
She cleared her throat, silencing everyone. "My decision is final. No amount of complaining will change my mind, so it's best to keep your mouth shut if you don't like running for 20 laps again."
She shot me a glare. "And you, didn't you say you're trying to make amends? If you meant what you said, then do as I say, don't cause any more trouble for the team."
I stood still basking in the uncomfortable silence, being utterly speechless and humiliated.
Not only does this risk my life,
I'll also be at risk of being humiliated when I know two shits about hockey!
"I assume you're all done with warmups, now get on the ice. We'll be focusing on defense today."
In desperate hopes to change her mind, I spoke in a somber voice, "Coach... I- I'm still not feeling well... You see I just recently got off from the hospital-"
"Get on the ice, Adler. I'll see for myself whether you're bullshitting or not." She commanded sternly, not sparing me another glance as she walked off to the other members.
As she turned her back, I intensely glared at her, constraining myself in flipping her off. With a huff, I clenched my fists and headed onto the rink.
With one hand on the fence and a foot on the ice, I let out a deep breath as I prepared putting another foot in before inevitably falling face first onto the hard ice.
I may have inherited the entirety of Chris' memory and every knowledge he possessed, but that's all it is, it doesn't go further than that. It's like knowing everything there is to driving but never actually driven before.
And the fact I couldn't instantly access Chris' memory since they weren't mine to begin with, it wouldn't be ideal to stand still thinking while a person charged full speed towards me. It would be the same as reading a manual and driving at the same time.
My grip on the fence tightened at each inch my foot gets closer with the ice. Holding my breath, I slowly stepped in, my whole body no longer in the safer non slippery concrete floor, I was now in the unfamiliar environment of ice.
My feet were on the ice but my body was leaning on the fence, refusing to let go. Breathing in and out, I shut my eyes tight as I slip each finger one by one.
Just then, the sound of scraping ice was heading towards me. "Hey, you okay?" I didn't have to turn my back to know who the voice belonged to, memories from last night were still too fresh to forget his voice.
I remained attached to the fence knowing full well it was Archer. "Yes." I simply said, eyes closed and hands glued to the rail. I could hear him glide to my side. Bumping into the border, I flinched at the sudden vibration. I hugged the fence for dear life, refusing to get another concussion.
"Are you sure?"
I scowled, eyes were shut tight but I already could imagine his smug face looking down on me, because why wouldn't he? I was a nepo asshole screwing him and his team over.
He surely wouldn't miss the chance to gloat seeing the infamous star player struggling to even stand.
"If you're not feeling well then I could-"
Furious, my eyes shot open, hands were red from gripping too tight. "I told you I'm fine! I'm not some amateur-" I turned to face him, hands no longer leaning on support which caused me to stumble forward.
Instead of facing the skull shattering ice, I felt a hand supporting my back and an arm firmly wrapped around my waist.
I looked up and to my surprise I wasn't greeted with the condescending face I was expecting, I was instead taken aback by warm gentle eyes gazing down on me.
His eyebrows were slightly furrowed. In a firm voice he spoke, "Let me ask you again, are you okay?"
I parted my lips in an attempt to speak but only silence surfaced. His hand wrapped securely around my waist, making it seem impossible to fall.
"I know how drunk you were last night so it really is no problem if you aren't doing okay." He said, his voice gentle and patient. It was completely different from how I imagined Archer to sound like.
Sure his voice was as deep as a 14 year old's twitter account, it was just what the book described it to be "a deep husky voice that felt as if he had set my insides on fire, enveloping me with intense heat that was more than enough to set my mind and heart aflame."
And just as the book says (ignoring the over exaggeration) his voice was indeed deep.
But no one would expect a voice meticulously designed to shatter ovaries to utter kind and considerate words to the villain rather than his love interest, so this guy surely couldn't be book Archer...
Right?
His eyes fell as he continued, "I'm sorry I misjudged you. Seeing how you were ready to quit for Daniel made me believe that there's more to you than the rumors say."
Blinking in disbelief, It was astonishing how that one incident was enough to change his mind. Couldn't he stop for a moment to think whether I had ulterior motives? I mean I don't but it's best to assume until proven otherwise.
Allan was right, he is naive...
Laughing nervously, I replied, "Haha it's no problem at all! Thanks for thinking that way..." Time seemed to stand still alongside me as his ice blue eyes gazed at mine. I hadn't noticed this before, most likely because I wasn't in the right mind but even from his helmet I could see his soft narrow eyes and deeply arched brows, the long slope of his nose that's slightly pointing upwards, and his bright red lips in a faint frown.
All his features were exactly how Archer was described, and how I somehow imagined him to be.
Could this guy really be Archer?
"Clint! Adler! Get your asses out there and quit slacking!" Coach's voice thundered across the rink, snapping me back to the ridiculousness of the situation.
Expecting him to pull away from our odd position, his hands remained on my waist. "Are you sure you're alright?"
I let out a defeated sigh as I lowered my head, having no choice but to give in. "No... I'm not..."
Without further warning, he pulled him to his side. "Just hold on and I'll get you out of here." He said, holding a firm hand on my waist as he took the first glide. I cowered onto his side, terrified at the unfamiliar motion.
I felt a warm hand on my back. "Hey it's fine, we'll take it slow."
I nodded as I grasped onto his shirt to straighten myself up. "Good, find your balance and get used to it little by little, once you're ready we'll start moving." He said, his voice patient.
My knees shook as I tried moving my feet inch by inch in place. It took less than a minute for me to get used to standing. Chris' memories weren't completely useless in the situation as I was using it as a manual, making it much faster to adapt.
I tugged his shirt, letting him know I was ready. He nodded as he lightly placed a hand on my lower back. "Alright, keep your back straight and push your foot forward. Don't worry about falling, just follow my lead." He took another glide, this time I wasn't on the brink of plummeting my face onto the ground.
Glide after glide, I was able to get the hang of it. The motion of my feet felt light, with his hands securely on my waist, it felt as if I was barely touching the ground and more like I was being carried the entire time. The sensation was unfamiliar but exhilarating, it was a completely different experience. Each glide was smooth and didn't feel like I was about to fall at any given moment. I somehow felt safe.
It felt like an hour had flown by when we made it towards coach. We were then greeted with an unamused expression. She stood still with her arms crossed, giving us a frightening glare.
"What are you two?"
"Huh?" Both Archer and I collectively said, completely taken aback.
"Are you two hockey players or will you be joining James at the Theatre Club?"
"N-No ma'am... we're not...!" Archer replied, his eyes wide and frantic.
"Then stop acting like idiots."
Coach's statement earned a few laughs and jeers from the team. I tried staring them down in an attempt to silence them, but they either didn't care or were too busy making fun of us to notice my threatening stares.
"Look I have no problem with your relationship, but I would much rather you show it elsewhere and focus on the rink-"
Archer immediately interjected. "Coach! it really isn't like that! Christopher isn't feeling well, I saw him at the hospital yesterday and he didn't look so good last night either."
The taunting from the team stopped, suddenly becoming serious. "Wait... last night? Are y'all actually...?"
"No Allan I told you already!"
Coach sent a frightening glare, making everyone hold their breaths for the thousandth time as they awaited her words. "If that's the case, then what are we supposed to do about it?"
I immediately took the opportunity to speak, putting on a pitiful expression. "My memory is still hazy and I don't think I'll be able to play well, so I don't mind quittin-"
"I can help refresh your memory, you did struggle back there but I could tell you still knew what you were doing." Archer butted in, which I was forced to give him a grateful smile despite wanting to pull my hair out for ruining my chance to escape.
"No it's fine really! It'd be less work if you find someone better-"
Coach was next to butt in. "Considering your skills and your familiarity with the team, it'd be more of a hassle to find another person with the same level of skills when the game's just around the corner."
I was once again speechless with the odds stacked against me. My mouth gaped as I tried to find the words to refute, but it eventually shut as no words could help my situation.
Coach faced Archer. "Clint, just as you said, help him refresh his skills until he fully recovers. Even if he has some sort of amnesia, it wouldn't be too hard since he was a good player to begin with, and it doesn't seem like he has any broken bones either."
I scrunch my face at the cruel reasoning. She was really trying hard to push me into the lion's den.
Archer nodded and turned to face me. "Let's see each other after school." I smiled in response, despite the sheer anger that was going on inside my head.
Just let me quit goddamnit!!
Should I just get hit by another ambulance?! Who knows, maybe the second time's a charm!
If this guy had the slightest possibility of being really Archer, then I'll be left completely vulnerable in following my tragic fate. Staying in this team would mean murdering someone for the sake of petty jealousy, and possibly murdered for the sake of some unknown grudge that wasn't explained whatsoever!
Avoiding him was out of the picture. If I wanted to survive and live my own life, there was one thing I could do.
Simply get on my murderer's good side.
♪┌|∵|┘♪♪┌|∵|┘♪♪┌|∵|┘♪◙▒◙ ♫♩♬
AHHHH why is every chapter with Archer and Christopher my favorite one...
Y'all I was planning to post this on my birthday which was back in august... but I'm a slow writer and school has been killing me, I'm really sorry T_T
Anyways, to celebrate my very late birthday and for 800 reads, I'll be sharing some memes I've made! I hope y'all enjoy this chapter and the memes.
Thank you for 800 reads and for reading this far! I appreciate you so much, love ya! (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡
♪┌|∵|┘♪♪┌|∵|┘♪♪┌|∵|┘♪◙▒◙ ♫♩♬