First message
The roar of the crowd rolled through the stadium like thunder.
Seventy thousand voices, lights blazing down onto the field, the air thick with anticipation and sweat and electricity. The night game had been sold out for weeks, and every seat was filled with fans wearing blue.
In the tunnel beneath the stadium, Dante Alvarez leaned against the concrete wall.
The muffled roar above vibrated through the structure, shaking dust from the ceiling. Stadium lights flickered through the tunnel entrance, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dante barely looked up.
A cigarette burned slowly between his fingers, the orange ember glowing in the dim light. Smoke curled lazily past his lips as he stared out toward the field beyond the tunnel.
His blue jersey clung to his muscular frame, the number 21 stretched across his chest. Sweat from warmups still clung to his neck, trailing down the sharp line of his jaw.
The tattoos along his arms seemed alive under the stadium lights—dragons and demons twisting across his skin like they were waiting for the game too.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
“Alvarez.”
Dante didn’t turn right away.
The head coach stopped beside him, arms crossed, watching the field.
“They’re doubling you tonight.”
Dante finally flicked the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his cleat.
His voice was calm.
“Good.”
The coach smirked slightly.
“You know what that means?”
the only thought on his mind was you and the bet he made.