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BANTR: Personality > Looks

Welcome to Bantr: the completely anonymous dating app alternative! Please complete your profile below.

Username: MagicMan [Good choice! This username is available.]

Age: 20-29

Pronouns: He/Him/His

I am interested in matching with:

• Men
• Women
• No Preference
• Other

I am looking for:

• Friend/Activity Partner
• Dating
• Long Term Relationship
• Marriage
• Marriage & Kids
• Unsure

List your interests below:

• Football
• Harry Potter
• Travel
• Reality TV
• Languages
• Reading
• Running
• Working Out

Sam frowned. Was that too many interests to list, or not enough? He hesitated, and then added Cooking and Music to bring his list up to an even ten items. According to Isaac - who’d led the first wave of Richmond players in downloading the app earlier this week - the broader Sam’s interests were, the easier it would be for the app to connect him with someone. And if his conversation with his Bantr match about their mutual interests was stilted, Sam could gracefully back out of the conversation without having shared any personal details - like his identity - at all.

He indicated SW14 for his postcode district, and clicked submit before he could second-guess himself any further.

For the next several minutes, Sam got comfortable under the covers and swiped through the Suggestions For You page. Each square listed a username, the user’s gender and location, and which mutual interest they shared with Sam. Evidently there were a lot of travelers, readers, and football fans in the area, and even more people with the number 69 in their usernames. The number appeared so often Sam wondered if any of the users listed it as one of their interests. Had he done that by accident?

He was trying to figure out if TheBazMan (whose top three interests included Football, Pubs, and Darts) could possibly be that man from The Crown & Anchor who took a personal pleasure in slagging off Ted (while simultaneously revering him) when a message notification popped up at the bottom of his screen. Sam blinked, startled, as another followed, and then another after that. He hoped it wasn’t TheBazMan or any of the 69s; he was terrible at letting people down gently.

RedStrike (he/him) has started a conversation with you. Enjoy your Bantr!

(22:43) RedStrike: hello!!

(22:43) RedStrike: i see we are both fans of football! what club do you support??

(22:43) RedStrike: (sent an image)

The image was of a cloud shaped vaguely like a football. Another message came in.

(22:44) RedStrike: saw this on the way to work this morning! if you enjoy football i hope you enjoy this too 😊

Sam smiled back.

(22:45) MagicMan: (liked an image)

(22:45) MagicMan: I am a fan of both football and your photo 😊

(22:45) MagicMan: I support Richmond, what about you?

(22:46) RedStrike: so do i! we match! 😊

(22:46) RedStrike: do you have a favourite player?

Sam worried at his bottom lip. It wouldn’t bode well for their conversation if he evaded a (relatively innocuous) question this early on - he could say Jamie, but that would be a flatout lie, and what if Jamie was RedStrike’s favourite? Sam might respect Jamie a little more for going along with his Dubai Air boycott, but he could think of nothing less he wanted to do than extol Jamie’s praises over Bantr.

Maybe he was going about this all wrong. Maybe he didn’t have to think about this from the perspective of an anonymous fan to answer RedStrike’s question. Who did he, Sam Obisanya, like and trust the most on and off the pitch?

(22:48) MagicMan: Dani Rojas.

(22:48) MagicMan: He’s a great team player and excellent on the pitch - his goal in the Man City game last season was phenomenal and I think he’s shaping up to have an excellent season already.

Our current standing notwithstanding, Sam thought, smiling at the accidental pun.

(22:49) MagicMan: What about you?

The reply came immediately.

(22:50) RedStrike: Sam Obisanya

(22:50) RedStrike: he is quick and his passing and timing are exceptional and he is an excellent team player as well

(22:51) RedStrike: i hope he stays on the team for years to come, they would not be as successful without him

Sam was grateful his skin was dark enough to hide his blush, and even more grateful that he was alone. Aside from Nora Collins and his entire family, he could count on the fingers of one hand how many people would definitively call him their favourite player. His cheeks hurt from his smile, which only faded slightly at the knowledge of what would inevitably happen when RedStrike realised who he was speaking with.

His phone lit up again, distracting him.

(22:52) RedStrike: have you ever been to a match??

(22:53) MagicMan: A few, yes.

(22:53) MagicMan: Yourself?

(22:54) RedStrike: as many as i can 😊 are you enjoying the season so far?

Sam started typing, then stopped. The immediate answer was yes - yes, of course he enjoyed the season, he enjoyed every season, he loved the game and his teammates - but a more complicated answer lay beneath the surface, one that he was sure the others all felt in their bones. 

(22:56) MagicMan: Truthfully, the ties have been a little disheartening.

(22:56) MagicMan: I’m relieved that the tie streak was finally broken, even if it was with a loss, but I worry about the team’s chances of ever getting back into Premier if their luck continues this way.

Sam watched the string of pink dots appear and reappear at the bottom of his screen.

(22:58) RedStrike: i feel the same way

(22:58) RedStrike: but every team experiences a rough patch once in a while

(22:58) RedStrike: and they come through stronger than ever

(22:59) RedStrike: i know the same will happen for Richmond and they will be better than ever before 😁

Sam smiled stupidly down at the screen. His worry about the team’s public stance against Dubai Air and their record still loomed in the back of his brain like storm clouds, but they seemed less threatening now that he’d spoken them aloud - and now that RedStrike had temporarily banished them with optimism and a smiley face.

His phone lit up again.

(23:01) RedStrike: work starts early tomorrow so i have to go to bed now ☹️

(23:01) RedStrike: but can we talk again soon??

(23:01) MagicMan: I’d like that 😊

(23:02) RedStrike: 😁

Dani Rojas didn’t just walk into rooms - he exploded into them, leaping forward to embrace his teammates like it’d been years since he’d seen them, or bounding in like a raven-haired golden retriever and chanting his own name at the top of his lungs. Today, though, with fifteen minutes to the start of training, neither Dani nor the loud roar of his motorcycle were anywhere near the club. Sam would have texted Dani himself if the group chat hadn’t done so already several times over - and if he weren’t currently preoccupied.

(07:15) RedStrike: what if i didn’t go to work today and just kept talking to you, what then

(07:15) MagicMan: Your boss would probably be very angry with you for skiving.

(07:15) MagicMan: You could try explaining to them our debate about pizza toppings and see if they grant you any leniency for oversleeping.

(07:16) RedStrike: my beloved one day you will try pineapple on pizza again and i will be waiting to tell you i told you so

(07:16) MagicMan: We’ll see 😊

(07:17) RedStrike: (sent an image)

(07:17) RedStrike: the day is beautiful and so are you 😉

“Who’re you messaging?”

Sam casually tilted the phone away from Isaac’s sharp gaze. “Just a friend,” he said, but the green light next to RedStrike’s name was gone when Isaac looked away and Sam looked down again. He must have finally left for work.

Not for the first time, Sam wondered what it was Red did for a living. They’d kept their conversations to light topics over the last two weeks, only briefly brushing upon their lives outside of Bantr. Red’s job, as far as Sam could tell, was very physically demanding, because he was always exhausted when they talked afterwards (though no less enthusiastic about life and every topic he brought up). Between that and the strange hours, Sam’s best guess was something related to retail.

“Dani Rooooojas, Rojas, Dani Rojas!”

Sam looked up from the conversation Richard and Jan had pulled him into to see Dani bound into the room, his helmet tucked under one arm and a familiar grin on his face as everyone greeted him. Isaac ruffled Dani’s hair after Dani high-fived him and then Sam. “Nearly late today, Rojas. You get stuck in traffic or something?”

Dani shook his head. “The roads were clear,” he said. “Coach was walking here so I gave him a ride.”

Sam frowned. “I thought he doesn’t live anywhere near you.”

Dani shrugged. “Either way,” he said brightly, “he was there and he said he appreciated the ride. Here he comes now!”

Coach Lasso staggered into the room in the same clothes he wore yesterday, wobbling slightly. He hadn’t shaved, and his hair was somehow flattened and windswept at the same time. Coach Beard, who’d been chatting with Nate about the plays they’d be running through today, didn’t say a word, but he raised his eyebrows so high at the sight of Ted they almost disappeared under the brim of his hat.

“Morning, fellas,” Coach Lasso said, and ran a hand through his hair. It didn’t look any better, but it didn’t look any worse either. “Whoo. Alright, uh, Nate, get the boys on the pitch and run ‘em through their warmups, I’ll be out there in just a sec.”

The team followed Nate out of the locker room, but Sam lingered, amused by the knowing look on Coach Beard’s face. 

“You and Jane’s friend hit it off, huh.”

“Not a word,” Coach Lasso said, pointing a finger at him. Sam stifled a grin and ducked out the door before either noticed his presence.

Dani was waiting for him in the hall, and Sam nudged his shoulder. “Did Coach tell you anything?”

“Nothing,” Dani said, but his smile was mischievous. “Five quid says I can get more details out of him.”

“Bring it up to ten and you’re on.”

“Then we are on!” Dani said, and jogged out onto the pitch with his arms over his head. “Fútbol is liiiiiiife!”

Sam laughed and joined him.

(16:04) MagicMan: How was work? Did you make it on time?

(17:20) RedStrike: right on time! arrived before the boss too 😊

(17:20) RedStrike: (sent an image)

(17:20) RedStrike: i ordered with olives in your honor this time

(17:20) RedStrike: BUT make no mistake pineapple on pizza is still the best

(17:25) MagicMan: (liked an image)

(17:25) MagicMan: Whatever you say 😊

In Higgins’ restroom, Sam’s phone chimed.

(12:00) RedStrike: merry christmas!

(12:00) MagicMan: Merry Christmas! Are you celebrating with your family?

(12:02) RedStrike: unfortunately no, they could not afford to fly in

(12:02) RedStrike: i was invited to a coworker’s christmas party but i am not sure if i will go yet

(12:02) MagicMan: I sympathise, I am in a similar situation myself.

(12:02) MagicMan: Are your other coworkers attending this party? 

(12:03) RedStrike: i am not sure yet

(12:03) RedStrike: i am also not sure what to bring for a hostess gift

(12:04) MagicMan: In my experience alcohol is always received warmly 😊

(12:04) MagicMan: My coworker invited me to his family’s house for Christmas this year. I was not sure if I should go at first, but my father convinced me I would be much happier if I did not spend Christmas alone.

(12:05) RedStrike: your father sounds very wise

(12:05) RedStrike: as are you 😉

(12:06) MagicMan: Thank you 😊

Sam’s attention was diverted by an incoming text from the Richmond group chat.

Thierry Zoreaux has changed the name of this conversation to ‘Merry Fucking Christmas!’.

(12:06) Thierry: hey who’s all going to Higgins’ party this afternoon? if you are like this message

(12:07) Sam: (liked a message)

A knock came on the door. “Sam? You alright in there?”

“Yes, thank you! I will be right out.”

“Take your time. Stevie! No, Stevie, put that down, those are for the guests…”

Sam washed his hands and checked his phone once more. Six more players had liked Thierry’s message, and he had two new messages from RedStrike as well.

(12:10) RedStrike: i think i will attend 😁

(12:10) RedStrike: thank you for your wisdom my beloved magic man, i hope your christmas is as wonderful as you

Sam smiled.

(12:11) MagicMan: Anytime!

(12:11) MagicMan: And you as well 😉

(12:12) RedStrike: ❤️❤️❤️

“So,” Grace said after their parents left their Christmas evening Skype call. She sounded knowing. Too knowing. “Anything you’d care to tell me, little brother?”

Sam rewound the last forty-eight hours in his head, trying to figure out if he’d landed in the tabloids in a way that his sister could hold over his head. There had been Keeley and Roy’s get-together yesterday, and the Secret Santa party this morning, and then the Higgins’s party this afternoon, which he’d just returned from, but he hadn’t spotted anybody from the press there, not even during Ms. Welton and Coach Lasso’s caroling. “Nothing that I haven’t already mentioned.”

“Mm,” Grace said. He wondered if this was the same tone she used with her Year Fives when she suspected them of something. “Not even the name of whoever had you so distracted and smiley during Baba’s story?”

Sam’s face heated up. He thought he’d done well with keeping his glances at his phone to a minimum while his father caught him and Grace up on what was going on at home, but evidently not. “Just the Richmond group chat, that’s all.”

Grace raised her eyebrows. “Oh? And what were you discussing that was so riveting after you were around them all Christmas long?”

“…Football-related things.”

“Samuel. You are a terrible liar.”

“I know,” Sam sighed. Lying gave him the same terrible aftertaste as cussing, so he kept both to a minimum. “I’m working on it.”

“Practise in front of the mirror - put those Bambi eyes to good use and you could get away with murder.” Grace clasped her hands under her chin and stuck out her bottom lip. “Come on, little brother, fill me in. All the gossip I hear is about who stole so-and-so’s crush on the playground.”

Sam shifted his laptop on his knees and tried to figure out how to begin. “I’ve told you about Keeley Jones, right? Head of marketing, dating Roy?”

“You have. And it still boggles my mind that you and Roy ‘fucking everywhere’ Kent are on first name terms and you have yet to introduce me.”

“Come up and visit soon and I will see what I can do,” Sam promised. He’d ask Keeley when Roy was available. “Anyway, she has been doing some freelance PR for this new dating app called Bantr and asked the team if we’d try it out in the hopes that it would inspire more people to join.”

Grace wrinkled her nose. “Is this yet another dating app where they remove a letter to sound trendy? Like Grindr?”

“Yes. This one’s alright, though. Completely anonymous - no pictures, no names, just messaging.”

“So you don’t know anything about this person you’re speaking with? What if he’s crazy?”

“I know he’s in his twenties, like me.” Sam ignored Grace’s eye roll that meant twenty-one is hardly twenties, little brother, and added, “He’s very kind, and funny. He likes football and Mumford and Sons and pineapple on pizza. We’ve been messaging for the last few weeks.”

“Does he support Richmond? Samuel. He does, doesn’t he!”

Sam grinned sheepishly and palmed the back of his neck. “So do I.”

“Of course you support Richmond, you play for Richmond!” Grace shook her head. “He’s not a Jamie superfan, is he? Even Ben stopped fancying him after he cheated on Amy on Lust Conquers All.”

“No, er…” Sam hesitated. “He…says I’m his favourite player, actually.”

Grace actually squealed. “Oh, Sam!” Then her expression changed in an instant. “And he doesn’t know he’s talking to you at all?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve mentioned nothing about what I do and neither has he. It’s an anonymous app, you know.”

“But you can’t stay anonymous forever. Do you ever plan on telling him who you really are?”

Sam looked down at his phone again. He’d asked Red how his coworker’s party was, and Red had recounted the details of an evening of warmth and laughter, and near misses with death in a Nerf fight, which made Sam think of Thierry and Dani’s battle against the younger Higgins boys. Now Red had sent another message: this christmas was all the merrier for talking to you 😉 followed by a string of gift emojis. He hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting in person yet - did he want to? Would he be disappointed if Sam wasn’t ready to shed the comfort of anonymity yet? Would Sam ever be ready?

“It’s alright if you are not ready now,” Grace said gently, as though she’d read his mind. “But if you like him, sooner or later you’ll have to consider it.”

Sam nodded. “I know. I will.”

The next message came on the morning of the 27th, not long after Sam arrived home from the team's celebration of their Boxing Day match victory. He grimaced and lowered the brightness on his phone before opening Bantr; Dani had the right idea about taking it easy on the Mezcal.

(10:18) RedStrike: may i ask you something

(10:20) MagicMan: Of course

The dots appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. Sam’s heart climbed into his throat and clung for dear life. 

(10:21) RedStrike: why did you choose MagicMan for your username

(10:21) RedStrike: obviously you have a sparkling and magical personality but i suspect there is something else at play here 😉

Sam snorted.

(10:22) MagicMan: You’re very kind 😊

(10:22) MagicMan: My username was inspired by Harry Potter

(10:23) MagicMan: It would have been SiriusBusiness but regrettably that name was taken by the time I joined Bantr

(10:23) RedStrike: ahh that makes sense

(10:23) RedStrike: is Sirius a character? i have never read the books

(10:24) MagicMan: Never???

(10:25) RedStrike: english was not my first language and the translation was not very good

(10:25) RedStrike: by the time i learned English i was too busy to try the books again

(10:26) MagicMan: English is not my first language either, I understand.

(10:26) MagicMan: If you’re interested in trying the books again I highly recommend them 😊 

(10:27) RedStrike: looks like we match again 😊

(10:27) RedStrike: if they make you happy my beloved i want to read the whole series

(10:27) RedStrike: there are eight books right

(10:28) MagicMan: Technically yes. Cursed Child is a play and personally I do not count it as part of the series. I think it ruined Harry’s character. 

(10:28) MagicMan: They are making five films out of the supplemental book Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, none of which have been very good. The films based on the Harry Potter novels were very good though.

(10:29) RedStrike: (sent writethatdown.gif)

(10:30) MagicMan: (laughed at an image)

The next message came through an hour later. It was a blurry photo of a stack of seven Harry Potter books, captioned with something to look forward to once the holiday craziness dies down!

Sam didn’t even try not to smile.

The rest of the holidays passed in a blur of pickup games in the green, a movie night at Isaac’s, and cheering Ted up on New Year’s Eve with a singalong that quickly morphed into a snowball fight. Dani brought his guitar and sang, and Colin and Jamie drank one too many hot toddies at the pub and had to be carried home. Will of all people ended up winning the betting pool - which had increased to twenty quid and the first shower for a week - when he overheard from Nate that Ted had matched with Jane’s friend on Bantr, and still used the app but hadn’t met up with anybody since. 

Keeley bounced into the locker room the first week of January with a pink clipboard tucked under her arm, which perfectly matched the scrunchie in her hair. “Boys,” she said, smiling, “do you have a minute? I’m putting together a presentation for Bantr and I’d like to poll you.”

Sam saw he had a Bantr survey in his inbox when he checked his phone this morning, but Red’s commentary on the latest Mumford and Sons album - he made a playlist for Sam of their greatest hits to bring in the New Year, which Sam enjoyed listening to on his runs - had distracted him from completing it. “Sure,” he said, and the others echoed the sentiment.

“Great! Alright, how many of you have downloaded Bantr since I told you about it?”

More than half the room raised their hands, including Jamie, Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Sam himself. 

Keeley made a note. “And since then, how many of you have matched with someone and began Bantring?”

A few hands went down. Sam’s stayed up, and so did Colin and Dani’s.

Keeley asked a few more questions, noting their answers carefully, and then asked, “Would you recommend Bantr to any of your family or friends?”

A smattering of yeses and maybes. Colin was the only one who definitively said no.

Keeley frowned. “Why’s that, Colin?”

Colin looked down at his feet. “I was chatting with this bloke for a few weeks,” he said, “and it was great, up until he wanted to meet up for real.” He shrugged one shoulder. “The magic sort of faded after we stopped being anonymous, and we haven’t talked since.”

“I see,” Keeley said, a little quieter, and wrote that down as well. “Thanks guys, you’ve been a great help. I’ll leave you to it.”

Coach Lasso must have heard Colin’s response (and saw how much Colin clearly didn’t want to talk about it more), because he sent them straight to the pitch and ran them so ragged that Sam had to check the colour of his sunglasses to make sure he wasn’t in his Led Tasso persona. Either that or he really wanted to make sure their match against Stoke City (where the odds were against them) ended in a win.

“Something on your mind, Sam?” Dani asked, when they were running laps. 

Sam shook his head, and forced a smile. “No. Just tired.”

He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Dani’s answering smile was a little forced as well.

The Stoke City match earned them their sixth win - barely. They were tied 1-1 in the last few seconds when their Sandman play ended with Gaz practically tripping over the ball in his haste to pass to Jamie, who scored directly with a corner kick. Jamie made it clear that he considered the victory his victory and not Richmond’s in his press conference, which irritated Sam so much that he refused to speak to Jamie in the locker room afterwards and went straight home after showering. Even Dani stopped smiling when he heard about that.

His phone buzzed to life with messages from his relatives congratulating him on the win and from the team group chat, in which Isaac was informing them that Rebecca rented out the pub to celebrate their victory, but Sam ignored them. He sat down on the couch with a thud and opened Bantr instead.

(19:03) MagicMan: My coworker is the worst.

(19:03) RedStrike: what happened 🔪🔪🔪

Sam let out a heavy breath.

(19:04) MagicMan: He does not seem to realise that our team’s achievements are not his achievements alone, even if he played a major role in them.

(19:04) MagicMan: He took a leave of absence and only recently returned to the job. I thought he was different now but it turns out he’s the same arsehole he’s always been deep down.

(19:05) MagicMan: Not sure why I’m so disappointed.

(19:05) RedStrike: i’m sorry

(19:05) RedStrike: i have a coworker who thinks it is always about him too and it can be very annoying to deal with him, especially since we have to work so closely together

(19:06) RedStrike: i will fight your annoying coworker if you fight mine?

Sam snorted.

(19:06) MagicMan: Deal.

(19:06) RedStrike: do your other coworkers feel the same way about this one

(19:06) MagicMan: I didn’t ask but I think so.

(19:07) RedStrike: good

(19:07) RedStrike: i was going to offer backup if you needed to convince them

(19:08) RedStrike: i’ve been told i would be a valuable ally in a fight 😁

I have no doubt, Sam typed back, smiling, and then stopped himself before he could hit send. Here Red was offering to fight Jamie and cheering him up, and Sam couldn’t even give him the courtesy of telling him his real name, or even what he hoped to get out of this relationship - if he could even call it that. Was Red waiting for Sam to define what this was, or hoping they wouldn’t have to keep things anonymous for much longer? How much longer would Red be willing to wait?

Sam had a feeling he could trust Red with his identity - anyone who offered to fight Jamie Tartt for him probably wouldn’t out him or tell the press his Bantr information - but what if the truth changed everything between them for the worst? He was Red’s favourite player - Red would surely be starstruck if he knew who he’d been communicating with this entire time. He’d put Sam up on a pedestal, stop seeing him as Sam Obisanya the person in favour of Sam Obisanya the footballer. Or worse, Red would be disappointed that Sam didn’t live up to the Sam Obisanya Red had in his head, and their conversations would dwindle and wither on the vine.

Both options hurt too much to contemplate.

Sam wiped his palms on his knees and started typing.

(19:15) MagicMan: May I ask you something?

(19:15) RedStrike: of course

(19:18) MagicMan: I’ve really enjoyed talking with you these past weeks. You’ve been a much needed bright spot in my life, and I’d like to keep talking with you more.

(19:18) MagicMan: That being said…

(19:19) MagicMan: Would you mind if we continued to keep things anonymous for the foreseeable future?

(19:19) MagicMan: Please know it’s not that I don’t trust you, I’m just not ready to take this next step.

He only had to wait a minute for the telltale chime.

(19:20) RedStrike: of course! i completely understand 😊

(19:20) RedStrike: of course it will be difficult to properly woo you without knowing what you look like 😔😔😔 but i will persevere! 💪💪💪

Sam’s grin nearly split his face in two.

Alright. For that, he could give Red something to work with.

(19:21) MagicMan: I have dark hair and brown eyes.

(19:21) MagicMan: Does that help? 😉

(19:22) RedStrike: ,,,,,,,,,,,you are torturing me with your beauty my love

Sam grabbed a pillow and covered his face with it until he could stop smiling.

When he emerged again, the little green light next to Red’s name was gone, and he had two new texts from Dani.

(19:24) Dani: are you coming to the pub?? coach talked jamie into buying our drinks all night 🎉🎉🎉

(19:25) Dani: colin says he can give you a ride if you need one!

(19:30) Sam: I will be there in half an hour! I just need to change.

(19:31) Dani: 🎉🎉🎉

On Monday, while recovering from the second day of what could easily be classified as a world record hangover, Sam woke up to the following messages.

(01:44) RedStrike: i am reading philosopher’s stone

(01:44) RedStrike: serious was mentioned in the first chapter but has not been mentioned since, does he show up later??

(01:44) RedStrike: *sirius, sorry

(02:27) RedStrike: please tell me when harry learns magic he turns the dursleys into frogs 

(02:43) RedStrike: WHY did the killing curse not kill harry but kill his parents? this makes no sense

(02:59) RedStrike: this blond boy from madam malkin’s reminds me of my annoying coworker and i support harry if he wants to fight him

(03:07) RedStrike: platform nine and three quarters sounds familiar???

(03:07) RedStrike: OH

(03:07) RedStrike: i remember there is a platform nine and three quarters at king’s cross! now i understand the reference 😁

(03:08) RedStrike: my love are you proud of me

(03:10) RedStrike: i think i would be a gryffindor what about you?

(03:15) RedStrike: why did harry’s scar hurt??? is snape evil???

(03:33) RedStrike: snape is definitely evil. i will fight him too.

(03:40) RedStrike: where is MY hogwarts letter???? i want to be a wizard :(

(04:03) RedStrike: i can’t believe quidditch is the only sport better than football and it does not even exist.

(04:11) RedStrike: SNAPE TRIED TO KILL HARRY IN HIS QUIDDITCH GAME

(04:19) RedStrike: the gringotts vault was robbed!!

(04:33) RedStrike: I WANT AN INVISIBILITY CLOAK 

(04:33) RedStrike: do not worry i would not use the cloak for evil but i would use it to fight your cowokre

(04:33) RedStrike: he would nevr see me coming

(04:41) RedStrike: mirror of eriseddsdddddddddddddds

Sam was laughing so hard he could barely type.

(06:57) MagicMan: Good morning to you too.

(06:57) MagicMan: I have to leave for work soon but I am glad you’re enjoying the book so far! I think you would definitely be a Gryffindor ❤️

Sam wasn’t the last one to arrive at training, but he was one of the few who looked remotely put together. Jamie looked like he’d woken up under a bridge, and Isaac’s kit was on backwards (of which Will was hesitantly trying to inform him). Coach Lasso, for whatever reason, was asleep at his desk with a Richmond blue blanket draped over his shoulders, and Coach Beard wouldn’t field any questions about it. All they got out of him was that he’d had a late night.

At exactly half seven, Dani stumbled into the locker room. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly. His hair was in a loose, messy ponytail, and his eyes were rimmed with red. Sam, who’d never seen Dani look anything less than perfectly put together and ready to start the day, just stared. Even Coach Beard looked surprised. “Sorry Coaches. I overslept.”

“Late night, Rojas?” Bumbercatch teased, which set off a flurry of oohs and cat-calls that wouldn’t have been out of place in Sam’s sister’s classroom. Dani waved them off like a bad smell, and sat down hard on the bench next to Sam, who frowned.

“You sure you’re alright, Dani?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Dani clumsily patted Sam’s knee in what was likely meant to be a comforting gesture. “I just stayed up too late reading. Do not worry. Fútbol is still life.”

Sam perked up with interest. “What were you reading?”

Nate blew his whistle before Dani could answer, and he and Coach Beard launched into their post-match debrief and what drills they’d be running this week and what they needed to improve for next time. It was all important information, but Sam could barely pay attention - not when Dani had dozed off right on his shoulder. His entire body was trembling from the effort of keeping still and blocking Dani from the coaches’ line of vision. His veins buzzed beneath his skin, and his heart was pounding in perfect time with Dani’s soft breaths. Dani’s hand was still on his knee.

Nate blew his whistle again, and Dani startled awake so fast that he would have sent himself flying into the opposite bench if Sam and Tommy hadn’t grabbed hold of him in time. A rush of awkward laughter rippled through the room, and Dani went bright red from embarrassment and scrubbed both his hands down his face. “I’m so sorry, Coaches.”

“That’s fine,” Coach Beard said, before Nate could say whatever clearly cutting words were on the tip of his tongue. “You alright, Dani? Need a minute?”

“Fine, I am fine. I promise.”

Coach Beard raised his eyebrows, but relented. A moment later he dismissed them, and Dani grabbed Sam by the arm just before he could leave. “Hey,” he said in an undertone. “I apologise for falling asleep on you, Sam.”

“That’s alright,” Sam said. It came out much squeakier than he’d intended. He could still feel the heat of Dani’s head against his shoulder. He cleared his throat hard. “Did, did you enjoy your book?”

Dani smiled. “Very much.”

Sam forced himself to smile back normally. “Great.”

Nate blew his whistle one more time, and they jogged out onto the pitch together.

Isaac McAdoo has changed the name of this conversation to ‘Dani Rojas Get Some Sleep’.

(15:01) Dani: this feels uncalled for

(15:02) Jamie: bruv u fell asleep on sam

(15:02) Jamie: and u only said football is life like twice today

(15:03) Jamie: u better rest up, we’ve got another match saturday and we need u in top shape

(15:03) Tommy: (liked a message)

(15:03) Isaac: (liked a message)

(15:03) Richard: (liked a message)

(15:03) Sam: (liked a message)

(15:15) Dani: (sent an image)

(15:15) Dani: THERE i am in bed

(15:15) Dani: i appreciate everyone’s concern, i will see you tomorrow 😴

(15:15) Dani: like i told sam fútbol is life even when i am tired

(15:16) RedStrike: anyway where was i

(15:17) MagicMan: You were falling asleep mid-message.

(15:17) MagicMan: Please tell me you took off work today.

(15:17) RedStrike: no i went anyway but it’s okay!!! the book was worth not enough sleep

(15:19) MagicMan: You should get some sleep or you won’t be able to enjoy the rest of it.

(15:20) RedStrike: i wait all day to talk to you about how amazing your taste in books is and this is how i am treated ☹️

(15:20) RedStrike: i even came up with new ways to woo you

(15:21) RedStrike: for example

(15:21) RedStrike: are you a snitch?? because you are the finest catch here 😁

(15:23) RedStrike: my love come backkkk

(15:24) RedStrike: alRIGHT i will get some sleep but i will be back

(18:30) MagicMan: How was your sleep?

(19:28) RedStrike: excellent thank you

(19:37) RedStrike: i think i would see your face in the mirror of erised 😊

(19:38) MagicMan: I thought it was the Mirror of Eriseddsdddddddddddddds 🤔

(19:45) RedStrike: 😝

Two more matches came and went, each ending in Richmond scraping a victory. Morale rose among the fans and within the team. Dubai Air stopped sponsoring them, which Sam knew was his fault, but Bantr of all corporations - now skyrocketing in popularity thanks to Keeley’s promotion - slid into their place, solving most if not all of the team’s money problems that Ms. Welton didn’t want them to know about. Things were finally looking up. 

And now, at the moment, so was Sam.

“Come on, fellas, give him some air - ”

“Sam? Shit, is he alright? I didn’t - ”

“Get the fuck away from him - vete a la mierda, Jamie! Sam? Sam, look at me.” Something tapped frantically at his face. “Mierda. Sam? Please say something, Sam.”

Sam squinted, and Dani’s face swam in and out of focus, mere centimetres from his own. There were others looming over him, talking in low voices, but they were white noise on the edge of his world. Everything was throbbing. I’m fine, he tried to say, but what came out instead was, “You have beautiful eyes.”

Dani looked frightened. Sam felt an unexpected spike of disappointment. “Coach!”

Coach Lasso crouched down next to Dani, tapping Sam’s cheek to get his attention. “Hey there, Sam. Can you hear me?”

Sam nodded, but even that tiny motion sent his world swooping and made his stomach lurch. He blinked twice instead, and hoped that would suffice. He felt like someone had wedged cotton down his throat. “Wha’ happened?”

“Uh,” Coach Lasso said. “Well, we were running some drills, you remember that?”

Sam did. He blinked again.

“Good. Great. Well, uh, Jamie was practising his corner kicks - ”

“And he missed,” Dani snapped. “And hit you in the head.”

“It was an accident!” Jamie protested. He sounded as desperate as Dani was furious, like he really meant it. That eased the pain a little. “Mate, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t - ”

Dani smacked Jamie’s hand away. “Get away from him!”

“S’fine, Dani,” Sam gritted out. Now he remembered. Jamie had missed the last three kicks in a row - he had a row with his dad after the latest match and hadn’t been on his game since. His last must have ricocheted off the goal bar. “My fault. Should have dodged.”

Coach Beard shone a penlight into each of Sam’s eyes and looked over at Coach Lasso, who clicked his tongue. “Sam. Are you listening to me?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Alright. It’s looking like you might have a concussion - let’s get you to the infirmary and let Doc Taylor give you a onceover. Boys, hit the showers. Dani - ”

“I will take him, Coach,” Dani said, without a second of hesitation. “Can you stand, Sam? I can carry you.”

“…Am I standing now?”

“No,” Coach Beard said, and Coach Lasso said, “No, Sam, you are not.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “Please help me up.”

Dani, Coach Beard, and Coach Lasso carefully got Sam upright. Luckily, Dani was the perfect height to be Sam’s human crutch. Sam tried to say as much, but the words wouldn’t come. Dani’s arm around him tightened. 

Sam groaned and squeezed his eyes shut when they returned inside and he was hit by a wave of fluorescent lights. “My head hurts.”

“You’re alright,” Dani said. He sounded scared. That wasn’t good. Dani never sounded scared. “You’re alright, Sam. I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Sam said. He patted Dani’s shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Dani. Very good friend. I trust you.”

Dani sped up. “I am going to kill Jamie.”

“Don’t. It was an accident.”

“I will kill him and make it look like an accident.”

“Dani.” Sam opened one eye and glared at Dani with it. “Do not kill him.”

Whether that convinced Dani or not, Sam didn’t know, because Dr. Taylor stepped out of the room at the end of the hall and gestured them inside with a sigh. She got Sam seated on the examination table, shone a light in both his eyes, and ran through the list of required questions with him. Evidently it was good that he still knew his name, the year, the name of the team he played for and their standing. Dani certainly looked relieved.

Around the time she was testing Sam on his ability to recite digits backwards, she said (without even turning around), “Mr. Rojas, you don’t have to stick around.”

“I do not mind,” Dani said. Sam peered around Dr. Taylor. Dani was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze intense.

“Do you, Sam?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you mind your friend sticking around while I finish your examination? I don’t want him to distract you.”

“I won’t distract him,” Dani said at once, just as Sam said, “He won’t. He can stay.”

Dani relaxed. Dr. Taylor just nodded and continued her examination.

Half an hour later, Sam left the examination room with a mild concussion diagnosis and a prescription for acetaminophen and no strenuous physical activity for the next week. There went his chances of playing in the Cardiff match on Saturday. He would’ve been upset if his head still didn’t hurt so much.

Everyone - minus Jamie - was in the locker room waiting for him and Dani, including Keeley, Higgins, and Ms. Welton. They looked relieved to see he was (for the most part) alright, and when Dani suggested they make sure he wasn’t left alone per the doctor’s orders, everyone agreed to an all night movie marathon before Sam could say otherwise. He did manage to convince them to invite Jamie, though. “It was an accident,” he insisted. “I want him to know I do not blame him even if he doesn’t show.”

Jamie didn’t show until nearly an hour in, and apologised to Sam heartily for the concussion and for being late, both of which Sam accepted under the condition that Richmond win in Sam’s absence. After realising the volume and the brightness of the screen only worsened Sam’s headache, even after the acetaminophen, they dimmed the lights and sat around and talked about everything from strategy to memories to local gossip. Even Ms. Welton, who sat next to Coach Lasso the entire time, joined in.

Dani stuck close to Sam the entire night, and was the first to notice when Sam started nodding off. He seemed pleased when Sam drafted him as his human crutch again, and escorted Sam to his bedroom. Sam changed into pyjamas while Dani politely averted his gaze, and nearly moaned aloud the moment his head touched his pillows. Blessed relief.

“What did you say?”

Sam frowned. He must have said that out loud. “Nothing,” he mumbled, and fell asleep.

He woke up what felt like minutes later to someone gently shaking his shoulder, and groaned. “Kini, Iya?”

“Sorry,” came the whisper, and Sam’s eyes fluttered open. A pale blue light filtered in from under the door, accompanied by low voices Sam couldn’t quite make out. Dani was beside him; Sam could just make out Dani’s face if he squinted. “Coach said to wake you every two hours.”

“Oh.” Sam didn’t remember that. They must have talked about that when he was asleep.

“Do you still know the date and who you are?”

“Sam Obisanya. Twenty-second of February, 2022. Live in Richmond, play for Richmond.” Sam waved a hand in the vague direction of the door. “Are they still out there?”

“They have taken advantage of your Disney Plus account,” Dani said. “Jamie has never seen Frozen. Coach and Ms. Welton insisted we rectify that.”

“Excellent movie. Lots of…beautiful metaphors.” His eyelids were already drooping. “Hope he is enjoying it.”

“He is.” Dani sounded like he was smiling. That was good. Sam liked his smile. “Do you need anything?”

“Sleep.”

Dani’s laugh was soft, fond. “Sleep, then,” he said, and Sam turned back onto his side and did just that.

Sam spent most of the next day in and out of his bedroom, catching up on Lust Conquers All. The team - likely at the request of Coach Lasso - cleaned up his house and left him a tin of the best biscuits Sam had ever had. Grace texted him sporadically, sending him surreptitiously-taken photographs of her students, who had dressed up as their favourite footballers. I’m the sole Obisanya, she’d said, but at least there are no Tartts.

His parents Skyped around half five, and he did his best to assure them that he was alive and well and not secretly in hospital. His phone chimed twice while his mother caught him up on the neighbours - apparently the Aboderins sent their love - and then once more when he didn’t answer.

“Is that on your end?” his father said, and Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Yes, Baba. Hold on a moment.”

He was about to turn off his sound when he saw the Bantr notifications, and instantly felt guilty for not messaging Red back since yesterday morning. Had he been worried?

(17:42) RedStrike: hello my beloved

(17:42) RedStrike: i have a question

(17:44) RedStrike: a good friend of mine was injured at work yesterday. what would you like if you were in his place?

Luckily, Sam did not have to try too hard to put himself in Red’s friend’s shoes.

(17:46) MagicMan: Probably takeaway. If your friend is injured he likely won’t have the energy to make dinner.

(17:46) MagicMan: I hope he is alright!

(17:47) RedStrike: do not worry the doctor said he will be alright soon 😁 my coworkers and i will look after him

(17:47) RedStrike: thank you for your wisdom my beloved xoxo

“Who was that, Sam?”

Sam slid his phone back in his pocket. “Just a friend, Iya.”

“A friend, hm?” his mother said. She had the same mischievous smile as Grace. “A close friend?”

“Iya,” Sam groaned. 

His father’s eyes twinkled, even though the set of his mouth was serious. “We are not getting any younger, Samuel.”

“Baba!”

His parents laughed and thankfully dropped the subject.

They’d just ended the call with the promise to chat again soon (and in Sam’s case, to not even remotely overexert himself) when Sam’s doorbell rang. He hefted himself up and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, padding over to the door.

On the doorstep were two takeaway bags stuffed to the brim - both from the Nigerian restaurant on the other side of town. Sam smiled at the delivery note affixed to the leftmost bag: Feel better!

He took a photo and sent it to the group chat.

(18:22) Sam: (sent an image)

(18:23) Sam: I assume this was your doing 😊

(18:23) Sam: If so thank you very much.

(18:23) Isaac: (liked an image)

(18:23) Gaz: (liked an image)

(18:24) Dani: (liked an image)

(18:24) Colin: (liked an image)

(18:24) Jamie: (liked an image)

Sam’s phone chimed again as he was setting the table.

(18:29) RedStrike: your words of wisdom paid off 😊

(18:30) MagicMan: Yay!

(18:30) MagicMan: I was injured at work the other day and my friends bought me takeaway as well. It was much appreciated, so I have no doubt your friend is very grateful to have you in his life.

(18:33) RedStrike: 😱😱😱

(18:33) RedStrike: what happened my love who hurt you i will destroy them 🔪🔪🔪

(18:35) MagicMan: I am fine please don’t worry! Just an accident. I will be fully recuperated in a few days. 😊

(18:35) RedStrike: that is good to hear!

(18:36) RedStrike: speaking of good things

(18:36) RedStrike: harry rescued the philosopher’s stone!

(18:36) RedStrike: i never suspected quirrell was evil! he is defeated for good yes? even though voldemort is not?

(18:37) RedStrike: i cannot believe harry’s friends have not written to him all summer.

(18:38) MagicMan: Have you begun Chamber of Secrets already?? You read very quickly. 

(18:39) RedStrike: the wizarding world has intrigued me

(18:40) RedStrike: my sleep schedule may never forgive me though

Sam was cleared to return to training a few days later. Dr. Taylor did not, however, clear him to participate in the Cardiff match. Sam was disappointed, but the others insisted they’d rather have a fully healed right-back defender for the rest of the season than risk getting him injured again. He spent Friday night in Richmond on the phone with his sister, and his jaw almost dropped to the floor when she casually - oh so casually - informed him that he was going to be an uncle right as she was hanging up.

She was laughing when she answered the phone again. “Liked that, did you.”

“I hope you did not tell Iya and Baba the news like that.”

“Of course not, little brother. I value my life - and that of your future little niece or nephew.” He could hear the brightness of her smile. “Ben is already choosing colours for the nursery. He says if the team is promoted, we have to name the baby Richmond.”

Sam laughed out loud. “I always knew I liked your husband.”

“I may have to start rooting against you now, just to spare my child from being bullied in primary school.”

“Just you wait. They will make friends with children named Chelsea and Manchester and you’ll eat your words.”

“I’m sure,” Grace said. “Oh! When you and Baba and Iya come to London this summer, will you bring along a little Richmond jumper for the baby? Do they make those that small?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll ask Bumbercatch if he can knit one.”

“He knits?”

Sam shrugged. “He knit a scarf for Colin for our Secret Santa exchange. He’s very good.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Save the date, will you? First week of July. You can bring your mystery lover man along.”

“Grace.”

“Oh, come now, what good is a little brother if I cannot tease him from time to time? You are still talking to him, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” A stupid smile spread across his face. “He’s reading Harry Potter because I recommended it.”

“For the first time? Samuel. Marry this man.”

Sam shook his head, smiling. “Leave me be, Grace.”

“Only because I have to ring Ben’s parents and tell them the news. Do not think that this conversation is over.”

“Of course not,” Sam said. “Are we still on to watch tomorrow’s match together?”

“You can count on it.”

(22:05) RedStrike: my love

(22:05) RedStrike: mi amor

(22:05) RedStrike: meine Liebe

(22:05) RedStrike: should i be worried that your favourite harry potter character is a magical serial killer

(22:07) MagicMan: Oh you’re already on Prisoner of Azkaban! How did you like Chamber of Secrets?

(22:07) RedStrike: it was excellent! i liked it even more than philosopher’s stone

(22:07) RedStrike: i had some free time this evening and finished it all in one stretch

(22:08) RedStrike: i am so glad basilisks do not exist

(22:08) RedStrike: though if you were a basilisk, i would not mind dying just to look into your eyes 😉

(22:08) RedStrike: wait i do not have time to woo you, you are avoiding the question

(22:10) MagicMan: 😂😂

(22:10) MagicMan: I promise it will all become clearer as the novel continues.

(22:13) RedStrike: i will hold you to that amore mio

(22:15) MagicMan: Wait, how many languages do you know?

(22:15) RedStrike: several 😉

(22:15) RedStrike: does that make me more attractive 😉

(22:18) MagicMan: Maybe 😉

(22:20) RedStrike: 😉

(22:20) RedStrike: how many languages do you know? you mentioned english was also not your first, correct?

(22:21) MagicMan: I’m fluent in three.

(22:22) MagicMan: Four if you count my 223 day streak in Duolingo for Russian.

(22:23) RedStrike: that is very impressive!

(22:23) RedStrike: if i had known i was wooing a scholar all this time i would have brainstormed better pickup lines

(22:23) MagicMan: You have done an excellent job wooing me so far ❤️

(22:26) RedStrike: please know the man next to me told me and i quote ‘the size of your smile is making me sick’

(22:26) RedStrike: i would ask you to do something unattractive so i can stop smiling but i do not think that is possible

(23:00) MagicMan: Sorry I had to take a shower, I’m back!

(23:07) RedStrike: early night?

(23:08) MagicMan: Early morning. I need to get my house in order before Richmond plays Cardiff tomorrow. I am watching the match with my sister and her husband.

(23:08) MagicMan: Well, not technically. They live in London so she plans on FaceTiming me so we can see each other’s reactions for the full ninety minutes. Her husband is the only one who actually watches the match.

(23:10) RedStrike: i hope you and your family enjoy the match 😊

(23:12) RedStrike: so

(23:12) RedStrike: are you in bed already

(23:13) MagicMan: I am.

(23:13) RedStrike: what are you wearing? 😉

(23:14) MagicMan: Pyjamas.

(23:15) RedStrike: sexy pyjamas? 😉

(23:15) MagicMan: Lol, just regular ones unfortunately.

(23:16) RedStrike: that is alright!! i am sure you can pull off anything

(23:16) RedStrike: and i would let you pull anything off me 😉😉

(23:20) MagicMan: If only you knew how much I was blushing right now.

(23:22) RedStrike: payback 😉

(23:23) RedStrike: good night ❤️

(23:23) MagicMan: Good night ❤️

“In your experience,” said Sam, “are adults usually invited to an eight year old’s birthday party?”

Dani shrugged. “It is themed after football,” he said. “And we are footballers.”

Sam thought about that. “So are we guests, or just entertainment?”

“Both,” Dani concluded after a moment’s pause. He didn’t look too torn up about the uncertain designation. “But I do not mind. Parties are always exciting.”

Sam smiled. “Did you hear Coach is making Phoebe’s cake?”

“Yes! Apparently she had very specific requirements.” Dani grinned. “Do you think he will make us a cake when we get promoted?”

“I don’t think that’d be out of the question.”

Dani held the door open for Sam and walked into the bookshop after him. Sam had theorised that since Phoebe enjoyed the Wrinkle in Time series, she’d enjoy some more novels like them. Dani had already gotten her a gift voucher for the Dolls of England shop, but had offered to come along with Sam to pick out Phoebe’s presents. 

“Coraline,” Dani read aloud, and took the book off the shelf. “Is the book any less frightening than the film?”

“You’ve seen the film?”

“Jamie found it on Netflix after you fell asleep.” Dani crossed himself with one hand and returned the book to the shelf. “I do not think Phoebe would enjoy it. I could not even look at a button for weeks afterward.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “I do like Neil Gaiman’s other works, though,” he said. “Have you read Good Omens?”

“I saw the series on Prime two years ago. Much better than Coraline.” Dani picked up another book titled Fortunately, The Milk. “What about this one?”

“Oh! My sister read it to her students and they enjoyed it, so it must be good,” Sam said. He tucked the book under his arm. “Apparently they are highly selective.”

After twenty minutes, Sam had added The Borrowers and a football strategy primer (Dani’s idea, since the party was football-themed) to his collection, and went up to the front to pay. Dani was looking through the bestsellers rack when Sam found him again. Sam smiled when he followed Dani’s gaze.

“Roy told me Phoebe’s already read these, otherwise I’d have bought her the whole collection.”

“They are excellent books,” Dani said approvingly. “I am reading Goblet of Fire now.”

Sam glanced over at him, grinning. “That one is my favourite,” he said. “Well, tied with Prisoner of Azkaban. And Order of the Phoenix. Any book where Sirius appears, really. What’s yours?”

For a moment, Dani looked strangely taken aback, but then Sam blinked and the look was gone, replaced by his usual grin. Must have been my imagination. “Chamber of Secrets is mine,” he said at last. “Have you taken the Sorting quiz on Pottermore?”

“Yes. It told me I was a Hufflepuff.” Sam laughed. “I was so torn up when I first took it. I thought for sure I’d get Gryffindor.”

“I think you would make an excellent Gryffindor.”

Sam smiled. “You as well.”

“...Does Malfoy remind you of Jamie at all?”

“...Oh God, yes.”

Roy Kent has changed the name of this conversation to ‘What The Fuck’.

(15:09) Roy: Phoebe says thank you all for coming yesterday and for the gifts

(15:09) Roy: Whoever got her the Richmond action figures is asking for a good arse kicking though

(15:11) Jamie: oi what why??

(15:11) Jamie: she has enough dolls bruv i did u a favour

(15:12) Roy: A favour???

(15:12) Roy: She loves that little fucking roy kent more than she loves me!!!

(15:12) Roy: AND she made me take it to the fucking bathroom so it could watch me take a fucking piss

(15:12) Roy: You ever tried to take a piss while an action figure with your face watched you??? Because it FUCKING SUCKS

(15:13) Roy: This is some voodoo fucking bullshit Jamie, if Mini Uncle Roy comes to life and kills me in the middle of the night I’ll fucking kill you

(15:20) Roy: Sam and Dani she says thank you for the football strategy primer

(15:20) Roy: She and Kokoruda have made plans to study it together next weekend

(15:21) Sam: (liked a message)

(15:22) Dani: (liked a message)

(15:22) Dani: anytime amigo! 😊

(15:29) Jamie: ……ok was anyone gonna tell me roy was still in this gc or was i just gonna have to find out when he threatened my life myself

(00:00) RedStrike: YOU DID NOT TELL ME CEDRIC DIES

(00:01) RedStrike: I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU LET ME GET ATTACHED TO HIM 

(00:11) RedStrike: AND MOODY WAS CROUCH JR ALL ALONG W H A T

(00:25) RedStrike: do they have therapists at hogwarts because i know an excellent one that harry would benefit from talking to

(00:27) RedStrike: i have to read order of the phoenix immediately i do not care that i have work in the morning

(01:05) RedStrike: i cannot believe harry was left alone all summer AGAIN

(01:31) RedStrike: i do not trust this umbridge woman

(02:02) RedStrike: my beloved this book is SO GOOD but SO SAD

(02:49) RedStrike: MR WEASLEY WAS ATTACKED

(03:21) RedStrike: i am once again saying that i do not trust snape and i do not trust these occlumency lessons either

(03:50) RedStrike: fred and george are my heroes

(04:13) RedStrike: WHAT

(04:46) RedStrike: wHAT?????

(05:34) RedStrike: YOU DID NOT TELL ME SIRIUS DIES

(05:34) RedStrike: I AM B E T R A Y E D

(05:34) RedStrike: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

(11:45) MagicMan: I’M SORRY

(11:45) MagicMan: If it helps, I mourned for an entire week when I finished OOTP for the first time.

(12:31) RedStrike: I will need to mourn for EVEN LONGER

(12:31) RedStrike: BECAUSE OF THIS BETRAYAL

(13:00) RedStrike: i was sent home from work early because my boss said i looked like death

(13:00) RedStrike: luckily the flu going around provided a good excuse

Sam stared. His brain was stuck on Red’s phrasing - Coach Beard had used that exact phrase today to send Dani, Coach Lasso, and Colin home before training had even begun - but with a shake of his head, he moved past it. It was likely just a coincidence.

(15:00) MagicMan: Enjoy your rest ❤️

Sam closed out of Twitter after an agonizing hour. Half of the Richmond hashtags were filled with praise for the team’s victory over Blackpool in OT - clips of Dani’s goal and Thierry’s save had already been retweeted tens of thousands of times. That was good. It should have filled him with pride to see so much support for his team, and joy that they were shooting up the standings so fast. With only fourteen matches to go, their chances of promotion were greater than ever.

It should have. It would have, if the other half of the Richmond hashtags were not filled with condemnation for him.

The news platforms took a more neutral stance. ‘Obisanya misses penalty kick, Tartt scores and secures victory for Richmond.’ That was the most common headline Sam saw. The others were more direct with their hatred. Fans that had never said a bad word against him were spouting vitriol - posting pictures of his face captioned with monkey and banana peel emojis, calling for violence against him and his family, throwing racist slurs around like cigarette butts. Never mind that Kyle had also missed his penalty kick; as far as Twitter was concerned, Richmond’s near brush with loss was Sam’s fault and Sam’s fault alone.

“Fuck ‘em,” Isaac had told Sam on his way out of the stadium. “You don’t owe them anything, bruv. Ignore them.” As if ignoring them was as easy as avoiding a car barrelling toward you on the wrong side of the road. Or a football to the head.

Most of the time Sam could ignore those people just fine. Tonight, he just didn’t have the strength.

His phone buzzed.

(23:07) Dani: hello sam

(23:07) Dani: i hope you are alright

(23:08) Dani: remember: fútbol is life

(23:08) Dani: and we all have your back 

Sam appreciated Dani’s words, but he hoped Dani wouldn’t hold it against him for not responding right away.

An hour later, his phone buzzed again.

(00:05) Coach Lasso: Hey Sam. Just wanted to let you know you played a heck of a good game tonight. Might be easy for me to say this and not so easy to take in, but don’t let the bastards get you down. We got your back.

Sam let out a long breath and blinked back tears.

Thank you, he typed back, I appreciate your support. He sent the same to Dani, and put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Then, his heart a little lighter, he opened Bantr. The light next to Red’s name was green.

(00:14) MagicMan: Hi.

The chime came immediately.

(00:15) RedStrike: hello 😊

(00:15) RedStrike: i did not expect you to be awake! how are you?

(00:15) MagicMan: Not at my best, truthfully.

(00:15) RedStrike: ? is everything alright?

Sam took another long breath and let it out slowly. How did he get himself into a situation where telling the truth would be infinitely more freeing and infinitely more complicated at the same time? If his life were a novel, it’d be Sam Obisanya and the Emotional Schrodinger’s Paradox.

(00:18) MagicMan: Is there anything you tell yourself when you make a mistake that you want to forget about but cannot because everyone keeps mentioning it?

The reply took several minutes to arrive.

(00:26) RedStrike: not from personal experience no

(00:26) RedStrike: but there is a good saying that comes to mind in situations like this

(00:26) RedStrike: did you know that the happiest animal in the world is a goldfish? this is because it has a ten second memory

(00:27) RedStrike: in times like these sometimes you just have to be a goldfish ❤️

Sam’s phone dropped from numb fingers onto his face.

Ignoring the throbbing in his nose and chin, he sat up straight and fumbled for his phone again, staring without comprehending at the screen. His heart was pounding hard, in perfect rhythm with the staccato of blood pounding against his skull. Pieces of memory swam in his line of vision - the unwavering support of AFC Richmond, the agreement to keep this anonymous for the foreseeable future, the optimism and enthusiasm, and now this, the saying that Sam knew better than any other - and formed a picture that rocked Sam to his core.

Oh God. I have been talking with Coach Lasso this entire time.

“Walk me through this one more time,” Grace said. Sam could hear the wailing of the kettle in the background, and Ben’s heavy footsteps on the kitchen tiles. “You think that you have been flirting with your coach for the last three and a half months? The American with the moustache?”

“Yes.”

“…And you’re certain there is no other explanation here? Is the saying not common?”

“What other explanation could there be, Grace?” Sam was pacing around his kitchen like he was running the Pepper Shakers play. “Red supports Richmond. Coach Lasso obviously supports Richmond, he coaches us. Red is optimistic and funny and charming, Coach Lasso - well, his charm is very American and folksy, but he is still charming! And very optimistic! We have a sign in the locker room that says Believe. That is a very optimistic sentiment!”

“It is,” Grace echoed, tired. “Thanks for the tea, love. No, go on, I’ll be back in bed soon.”

“Great match last night, Sam,” came Ben’s voice, distant but clear.

“Thank you, Ben. Grace. Grace, listen to me. He agreed to keep things anonymous! Why would he agree if he did not have something to hide as well?”

“Sam.”

“I was not sure at first because he did not come through as American and he used a lot of emojis, and Coach Lasso is very American and does not use emojis if he can help it. But then I thought, what if he was doing all of that to disguise himself? He is clever enough for a scheme like that, and to pretend about his age and that English is actually not his first language and everything else. Have I told you about his evil personality?”

“Samuel. Please take a breath. It is far too early for a panic attack. Or talk of evil personalities of any kind.”

Sam took a breath.

“Very good. Now listen to me.” Grace took a dainty sip of her tea. “Is it possible that the man you have been communicating with is Ted Lasso? Yes. Anything is possible. Which means it is equally likely that there is another, much more plausible explanation entirely. The only way to find out is to ask your coach directly if you have been messaging each other. If it is him, you will let him down gently and begin the process of moving on. And if it is not, you can continue your conversations with your Red and never consider goldfish or any similar metaphors again. How does that sound?”

Sam took another breath, and thought all of that over. “I think that is a good plan.”

“Excellent,” Grace said regally. “Now get some sleep, and I will do the same. I promise everything will be clearer in the morning.”

The following day, after an evening of tossing and turning and trying not to imagine Coach Lasso flirting with him, Sam entered the stadium with his head held high and, he was sure, the expression of a man on his way to his execution. On his way to the weight room with the others, he doubled back with the excuse of having forgotten something, and knocked on Coach Lasso’s open office door. “Excuse me, Coach. Do you have a moment?”

Coach Lasso looked up from his phone and set it aside, looking startled but pleased to be of service. “Sure thing, Sam. What can I do you for?”

Be brave. Get the words out. “Er,” Sam said, and gulped. “Keeley wanted me to ask you what you think of Bantr. You know, since the...last time she asked.”

Coach Lasso’s eyebrows went up. “Well,” he said, “truth be told, I wasn’t sold on the whole thing at first. Not so close to the divorce, you know? Gotta let the wound heal. But Keeley talked me into giving it a try, and I’ve been using it pretty regularly the last few months now. First thing I check in the morning after email, Facebook, and Pokémon Go. Gotta say I’m enjoying it a fair amount, yeah.”

“Have you…” Sam forced himself to continue. Coach Lasso offered him the seat in front of his desk, but Sam remained standing. If he sat down now he’d never get back up again. “Have you had the chance to meet a lot of people?”

“Uh, yeah, a few.” Coach Lasso smiled at his phone. The cramping in Sam’s stomach began to feel like his internal organs were shutting down. “Been talking to one in particular the last couple months though.”

Even Sam’s eyelashes were sweating now. “Oh?”

“Yeah, you’d like her. She’s a real pistol.”

Sam’s brain, which had been midway through writing his own eulogy, came to an abrupt halt. “She?”

Coach Lasso frowned, picked up his phone, and swiped left a few times. “Yeah. Those’re the pronouns she gave me, so those’re the ones I’ve been using. Hey, what’s the matter?”

Sam had slumped against the doorframe, so relieved his knees would have given out from it if he hadn’t locked them in time. So Coach Lasso wasn’t Red. That was good. More than good, really, because Sam would never have been able to look at him the same way again, let alone stay on the team. He would have rather rejoined the Dubai Air campaign than even begin to try and figure out how to explain the circumstances and let his coach down gently like Grace had recommended. 

“Sam? Hey, you sure you’re alright?”

“What?” Sam said. “Oh, yes Coach. Thank you for answering my - er, Keeley’s question. I will just be going now so I can let her know what you said.”

“Uh uh, hang on a moment,” Coach Lasso said, and Sam froze where he stood, one foot in the doorway and one in the locker room. “I could tell something was on your mind the second you moseyed on in here, so sit on down, make like the Patriots at Boston Harbor and spill the tea. Go on.”

Sam sat down. 

“Now,” Coach Lasso said, and came around the desk so he could sit more comfortably on the edge - either to give this conversation a more casual atmosphere or to more easily block Sam from escaping. Possibly both. “What’s going on?”

Sam opened his mouth, prepared to lie, and then closed it. What could it hurt, telling his coach what was bothering him? Dr. Fieldstone was always encouraging them to be open about what they were feeling, and there was certainly a lot that he was feeling that he wanted to get out into the open. “I downloaded Bantr at Keeley’s recommendation in December,” he said, “and for the last four months I have been communicating with someone…” His face heated. “Well. Someone wonderful. I asked in January if we could keep things between us anonymous, since he stated he was a fan of Richmond and I didn’t know how he would react if he found out that I’m…well-known.”

“More than well-known, I’d say,” Coach Lasso said. “Last I heard from the boss, the same person who runs my moustache fan account on Twitter started an account dedicated to more than just your fine moves on the pitch. Quite a few followers, I might add.”

Sam did a double-take. “Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

Sam made a mental note to unblacklist his own name so he could check that account out. “Well, er, like I said, we’ve been communicating for some time now, and he messaged me last night using an expression that I’ve only heard…” That I’ve only heard you use. “…around here. And I began to suspect that he was someone that I knew well. From here.”

Coach Lasso’s spine straightened. “So you think somebody on the team’s been messaging you this whole time?”

Actually, Sam hadn’t thought that at all, since his brain had been too preoccupied with the horror of how much he’d enjoyed the flirtations of Red-turned-Ted, but he nodded anyway. “Something like that, yes.”

Coach Lasso rubbed his hands together. “I smell a mystery brewing! You know what that means?”

Perplexed, Sam shook his head.

Coach Lasso grinned. “Time to bring in the Diamond Dogs.”

The Diamond Dogs consisted of Coach Lasso, Coach Beard, Higgins, and Nate, though Coach Beard didn’t show, since he was at the two-day Queen’s Gambit re-enactment with Jane and couldn’t have his phone on for accuracy purposes. “Off one grid and on another,” Coach Lasso said, though the grin faded when nobody reacted outwardly to the joke. “Ouch. Tough crowd. Alright, fellas, what’ve you got?”

“It must be someone you know well in real life, Sam, if you recognised their turn of phrase,” Nate offered, and Coach Lasso brandished a marker at him triumphantly.

“Good, real good.” He wrote that down on the whiteboard, and then drew a large circle around it. “Sam, who are the men ‘round here you think you know better than most?”

Sam shrugged. “The team,” he said, and Coach Lasso wrote that down. “Er, Keeley’s assistant. Everyone who helped with the Dubai Air campaign. Will. You all, I suppose.” He paused. “Can I just clarify…?”

“Not my type,” Nate said.

“Happily married,” Higgins said.

“Thank you,” Sam said, relieved. “That’s everyone.”

Coach Lasso dutifully wrote down all of the names and enveloped them in another large circle, part of which looped through the previous one. “Alright,” he said. “Now Sam, I know you said y’all’ve kept it anonymous, but is there anything you know about your Red that could help us narrow him down from these gents?”

Sam ducked his head. “He’s sweet,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly on an errant shred of paper on the rug. “Very charming, and funny. Optimistic. He’s in his twenties, like me. He supports Richmond.” He said I’m his favourite player. “He likes Mumford and Sons. He speaks several languages. And he likes Harry Potter. Well, he’s reading the series for the first time because I recommended it, but he likes it. That’s all I know.”

“Aww,” Nate said softly. Embarrassed, Sam kept his head down.

“Alright then,” Coach Lasso said. Sam looked up again to see a large, lopsided Venn diagram on the whiteboard; there was a sliver of space in the center just large enough for one name. “Well, fellas. What do you say we follow these leads and see where they take us?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nate said, and Higgins nodded.

“Good,” Coach Lasso said. He took a picture of the board and then began to erase it in smooth, bold strokes. “Don’t you worry, Sam. We’ll keep this whole thing locked up tighter than a safe deposit box at Fort Knox.”

“I...am not sure what that is,” Sam said, “but thank you, Coach. I appreciate your discretion.”

Coach Lasso gave him a quick thumbs up. “I’ll keep you posted.”

On his way home from training, Sam reassessed. He felt a little better, a little less hopeless, and a lot more curious and excited about Red’s identity now that he definitively knew Red was not Ted Lasso. Coach Lasso was right. Red had to be someone on the team to know Coach Lasso’s goldfish saying, but whom?

The trouble was, Sam thought, for all he’d said to the Diamond Dogs, he’d only been a part of the team for two years, and there were still some players he knew better than the others. He couldn’t just go up to them and ask if they liked Harry Potter or how many languages they spoke, not without them getting suspicious of his intentions. He needed insider information before he made his move.

Sam pulled out his phone.

(15:18) Sam: Are you free? I need a favour.

(15:19) Roy: Name it.

(15:19) Sam: Pub tonight?

(15:20) Roy: You’re on.

“Alright,” Roy said, three days later. “You remember the ground rules?”

“No questions, no judgement,” Sam recited dutifully. “And I cannot talk about football or how we know each other.”

Roy rang the doorbell. “Precisely.”

The door opened a moment later, revealing a trio of kind-faced women in their sixties. Two of them were holding glasses of wine, and the other was smiling brightly. Sam was about to ask Roy if he had the wrong address when the smiling woman said, “Roy, come in, come in! This must be the friend you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Roy said, and accepted her enthusiastic embrace (and the glass of wine she offered). “Sam, this is Maureen, and Lynn and Helen.”

No questions, no judgement. “It is lovely to meet you all.”

“You as well, luv! Come in, come out of the cold. Would you like some wine, Sam?”

“If it isn’t any trouble.”

“None at all. Take a seat, the others will be here in a moment.”

Others? Sam glanced at Roy, who was seated on the couch pretending to be occupied with his glass of wine, and took the cushion next to him. Lynn handed him a glass of wine, which Sam took with a smile that he hoped masked how utterly confused he was. When Roy helped him thin his list - “It’s not fucking Jamie, I’ll tell you that right now.” - and said he knew some people who could help Sam with his investigation, he hadn’t thought Roy meant people like this.

The others turned out to be three more women, each in her early fifties to late sixties with an affinity for excellent wine. Once they finished plying him and Roy with food and seemed convinced that they were comfortable, they all sat down. Maureen opened the conversation and another wine bottle to boot. “So Sam, Roy tells us you’ve found yourself in quite the romantic pickle?”

“Of a sort,” Sam said carefully, with a glance to Roy. He wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to give away. “I met a man on Bantr back in December, and we agreed to stay anonymous even as our relationship progressed.”

“Is he as lovely as you?” Helen asked.

“Lovelier,” Sam said honestly. They all cooed. “Only recently I discovered that I may know him in real life, and I have been trying to narrow down who he could possibly be.”

“Oh!” Aditi said. “Just like You’ve Got Mail. How romantic!”

“Have you narrowed the suspects down at all?” Lynn asked.

“Yes. I am down to five.” Thierry, Dani, Isaac, Richard, and Jan, to be precise - not that he was sure about any of them. Roy had scrawled fuck no and absolutely the fuck not to all the other names on the list that he and the Diamond Dogs had compiled. “All…men that I work with.”

“I see,” Maureen said. “Now, Roy told me that your mystery man has an affinity for The Boy Who Lived. Have any of those men mentioned having read the books for the first time to you lately? Or at all?”

“Well,” Sam said, after a moment’s pause. “Now that I think of it…” They all leaned forward eagerly. “When I was buying a gift for Roy’s niece - ”

“How is Phoebe, Roy?” Janice cut in. “Did she like the socks I knit her?”

Maureen swatted her playfully on the arm. “Let him finish, Janice! Go on, dear.”

“My friend Dani and I had a conversation about Harry Potter at the bookshop when we were buying Phoebe’s gift,” Sam said. “He did not mention reading them for the first time, though.”

“But that’s something!” Helen said, and the ladies all nodded. “Is he a bookworm?”

“He does bring books with him when we have to travel,” Sam said thoughtfully. “But he usually can’t get through one. Always falls asleep by the second chapter.”

Lynn hummed thoughtfully. Maureen took another tack. “Would you mind?”

“Mind…?”

“If your mystery man and your Dani were one and the same.”

Sam thought of Dani’s smile, and his laugh, and his hand on Sam’s knee, and the way he’d looked in the pale blue light wafting into Sam’s room, and how he and Red shared the same optimism and compassion and easy charm, and just as suddenly could not think of anything else. His face felt very hot. “No,” he said at last, in a voice that was more of a croak than anything. “No, I do not think I would mind.”

The women squealed. Maureen lifted her glass like an Olympic torch. “Breakthrough!”

Sam shook his head. “I do not think that it would make a difference,” he said. “Red might like me, but Dani doesn’t. Not like that.” 

“Fucking hell,” Roy said, scoffing. Everyone stared at him. “Dani worships the fucking ground you walk on. You’ve got fucking eyes, don’t you? Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you?”

Sam waved him off. “He is like that with everyone.”

“No, Sam,” Roy said firmly. “He’s different with you.”

Sam looked into his glass of wine to avoid Roy’s gaze. He remembered when Jamie and Keeley first began going out, and the way Roy had scoffed at them. He doesn’t love her, he’d said, so quiet only Sam could hear. She deserves better. Roy had been right then on both counts. Could he be right about Dani as well? Could Dani really be Red?

“Proof won’t just fall into your lap, dear,” Maureen said gently. “You’ve got to go searching for it.” She clapped a hand to her knee. “I’ve got it. Ask your Bantr man how far along he is in his Harry Potter readthrough, and then find out where your friend Dani is in his. If they correspond, maybe they’re one and the same. If not, you’ll go back to the drawing board. But either way, you’ll know where to go from there.”

Will I?

Roy clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll find your moment,” he said simply. “And your man.”

Sam nodded. “Thank you,” he said to Roy, and turned to the ladies. “And thank you all very much for your help. I will keep you posted on further developments.”

“Of course!” Maureen said, a sentiment quickly echoed by the other ladies. She leaned over and patted Roy’s knee. “Oh, Roy, why don’t you bring your friends around here more often? How did you say you two met again?”

“At work.”

“Where’s that, then?” Aditi said.

Roy’s eye twitched. “At the pub.”

Sam finished his glass of wine in one gulp so he wouldn’t burst out laughing.

(19:32) Roy: Remember: not a fucking word.

(19:33) Sam: 🤐

Coach Lasso has changed the name of this conversation to ‘Operation: You’ve Got Bantr’.

(11:11) Coach Lasso: Update: Jan definitely isn’t Sam’s Mr. Right

(11:11) Coach Lasso: He speaks three languages but never read Harry Potter and doesn’t want to

(11:12) Coach Lasso: Sidenote, did y’all know Snape’s name in Dutch is Severus Sneep because that just tickles me pink

(11:40) Nate the Great: It’s not Thierry either; he deleted Bantr in early March

(11:54) Coach Lasso: Guess that brings us down to Richard and Dani

(11:55) Higgins: I’m reasonably sure we can eliminate Richard. I have it on good authority he’s still seeing the supermodel he brought to our Christmas party.

(12:01) Higgins: (sent an image)

(12:01) Nate the Great: (liked an image)

(12:01) Nate the Great: Wow

(12:31) Coach Lasso: Anyway Sam, looks like Dani’s the last one on the list, let us know if he’s the one and if not we’ll regroup

(00:15) RedStrike: i want to shake every character who does not believe harry about malfoy by the shoulders

(00:15) RedStrike: nobody ever believes this child

(00:20) RedStrike: i also hope that harry and ginny end up together, i enjoy their relationship much more than i enjoyed harry and cho’s

(00:21) RedStrike: ginny understands him much more than cho did AND they seem very comfortable with one another which is important in a relationship

(00:22) MagicMan: I agree.

(00:25) RedStrike: is everything alright? you seem a little off

(00:27) MagicMan: Yes of course, why do you ask? I’ve barely said anything.

(00:27) RedStrike: exactly

(00:29) MagicMan: I’m alright. Just have had a lot on my mind lately ❤️

(00:30) MagicMan: Have you gotten to the Christmas party yet?

(00:33) RedStrike: not yet!! does harry take ginny?

(00:33) MagicMan: Wait and see 😉

(00:34) RedStrike: you torture me my beloved ❤️

(00:37) MagicMan: ❤️

Dani Rojas has changed the name of this conversation to ‘Fiesta is Life!!’.

(21:00) Dani: another excellent match amigos!!!

(21:00) Dani: come celebrate fútbol being life at my house

(21:00) Dani: as coach says be there or be square

(21:01) Richard: May I invite Mon Chéri?

(21:01) Dani: all are welcome! you as well roy!

(21:02) Jamie: is roy STILL in this fckin gc???

(21:05) Roy: 🖕

(21:30) Dani: you are coming right amigo??

(21:46) Sam: Wouldn’t miss it.

Dani’s house was crowded to the corners with people, most of whom Sam assumed were friends of Richard’s girlfriend, because he’d never seen them before in his life. The team had the music cranked up so loudly Sam could hear it from the street, and Sam was handed no less than three cups of Mezcal in the time it took him to walk through the door. The air was thick with the heady scent of sweat and alcohol; Colin and Jan stood in the middle of the sitting room with their arms around each other toasting Richmond, and football, and every topic under the sun related to their win. Even Jamie was getting into the team spirit. Come to think of it, Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard Jamie yell Me, me, me at a crowd. Maybe things really were changing for the better.

After a while, Sam ducked upstairs for some quiet. He’d been to Dani’s house before, but never up here, and for a while he just stood in the center of the hall admiring the burgundy walls and the photographs hanging crookedly in their frames while the music thumped below. There was one of the whole Richmond team, and one of the Tigres - Dani’s hair was shorter, his face fuller, but his smile was just as radiant.

Sam smiled at the family photograph near the end of the hall. He could easily pick out a much younger Dani in a sea of relatives with the same bright eyes and dark hair. He looked about seven or eight and had a football tucked under one arm, scraped knees, and a missing front tooth, and someone (his mother?) was ruffling his hair. He looked scruffy, and mischievous. He looked adorable.

(Sam prayed to God that Dani never laid eyes on his childhood photographs. Grace alone had enough blackmail material to drive Sam into the arms of UKPPS.)

One of the doors had a tie hooked on the doorknob, another was locked and the room was clearly in use (probably another restroom), and the one next to the family photograph was cracked open slightly. Sam knew he should probably get back to the party, but the two and a half cups of Mezcal guided his hand to the doorknob.

There was a large bed in the corner, the duvet deep blue and pulled taut, and the wallpaper behind the headboard was decorated with palm trees. A few shirtsleeves peeked out of the closet door, and a dresser the same colour as the bed frame stood at attention nearby. A guitar was propped against one wall, near a tall lamp and a cozy-looking armchair with Dani’s Richmond kit slung over the back and a silver laptop on the seat.

Sam turned, embarrassed to have invaded Dani’s privacy like this, and was about to leave when something green caught his eye. A book on the nightstand. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

Sam crossed the room in two steps and picked the book up carefully. Red’s picture of his stack of Harry Potter novels had been blurry, Sam remembered, but the book in his hands looked older, the spine cracked and worn. He turned it over and stared at the pages. Red said he’d just gotten up to the Christmas party, but there were so many earmarked pages - at the beginning and the end - that Sam had no idea where Dani currently was in the novel. And therefore he had no idea if Dani was really Red. The conclusion made his heart sink more than he’d thought it would.

“Sam?” 

Sam swore, fumbled the book, and dropped it. His entire body burned with embarrassment (and shame at having cursed) when he turned to face Dani. “Hi.” His heart, previously sinking, was now ready to pound out of his chest. “Hello, Dani. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just, er…” His voice trailed off. “Looking for something.”

Dani cocked his head to the side and offered a quizzical smile. He had his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and the collar of his shirt was wrinkled. The sight made Sam’s heart hurt a little, in a good way. “Do you need any help?”

“No, I…” Sam tried for a laugh. “Sorry. I realise how ridiculous this looks. The truth is, I don’t…actually know what I’m looking for. I apologise for intruding.”

“No need to apologise,” Dani said, like it was that easy. He came closer, step by slow step, and knelt to pick the book up. He replaced it on the nightstand, but stayed in Sam’s space.

Their eyes met, and a jolt went down Sam’s spine. Roy’s words came back to him in a flash: Dani worships the fucking ground you walk on. He’s different with you.

“Sam,” Dani said. His voice was soft, fond; the same as his laugh had been the night Sam was recovering from his concussion. “You are one of the smartest people I know.” He took a half step closer. “You can figure out anything you put your mind to.”

Sam’s throat closed up as Dani leaned in. A spike of panic shot through him - what about the investigation, what about Red, he couldn’t do this to Red or Dani if neither was the other - and he stepped back just as the door slammed open, revealing a flustered Colin.

“Good, there you are. You’d better get downstairs, Jamie and Jan are trying to…” Then his eyes flitted between Sam and Dani, who were studiously not looking at each other. “…Am I interrupting anything?”

Sam thought Colin sounded very much like he hoped he was interrupting something, but Dani shook his head. “No.” There was no tone to his voice at all; he almost sounded dead. Sam didn’t dare look over and see what was in his expression. “No, not at all, amigo. What are they trying to do?”

“You’d better see for yourself. Come on.”

“Dani,” Sam said, desperate to explain himself, “Dani, please wait,” but Dani followed Colin out of the room and back down the stairs without looking back once.

On the surface, nothing changed after that night. Richmond played better and better, racking up six wins, two losses, and two draws as the specter of potential promotion loomed nearer. Morale among the fans was at an all-time high, and on the pitch, Sam and Dani were as seamless of a unit as ever. Out there, it was like nothing had ever been wrong.

Off the pitch, however, things were as complicated as Coach Lasso’s favourite Avril Lavigne song. Dani was painstakingly polite with him, only mentioning football to him and taking care to avoid direct eye contact and even sitting on the same side of the locker room as Sam if he could. The tension between them became so noticeable that their teammates were starting to mention it. Coach Lasso kept asking Sam if he and Dani had had a fight, and even Jamie commented, “Who broke up John and Yoko?”

Sam’s investigation collapsed in on itself like a house of cards. The Diamond Dogs offered to go back to the drawing board and create a new plan for Operation You’ve Got Bantr, but Sam declined. Every time he messaged Red now - each message sent and received more stilted and awkward than the last - he kept thinking of Dani, and his disappointment about his indefinite conclusion to the investigation, and whether he’d ever really liked Red for Red, or if deep down Sam just liked him because Red had always reminded him of Dani. And to make matters worse, of the two people he most wanted to talk this through with, one was refusing to speak to him and the other Sam could never tell, for fear of hurting his feelings and losing him too.

(Dr. Fieldstone was sympathetic to his plight, but was very direct in her proposal of a solution. “Nothing will improve if you don’t communicate openly with Dani, or with your Red.”

“I’ve been trying,” Sam protested. “Dani doesn’t want to speak to me, and Red’s been distant too.” His shoulders slumped. “How did I get to the point where making amends with one feels like a betrayal of the other?”

Dr. Fieldstone twisted around to take a new pen from her desk, and Sam could have sworn he’d heard her mutter something scathing about doctor-patient confidentiality before she faced him again.)

By the end of May, neither he and Dani nor he and Red were speaking much anymore at all. Sam resolved that one way or the other, he was going to fix both situations as soon as their season ended. Richmond placed fifth, and defeated Huddersfield Town in OT following a spectacular goal from Jamie. They’d be playing Fulham at Wembley to determine which team would gain promotion to the Premier League, and even though the entirety of the town was supportive - Sam hadn’t had to pay for his own meal in days - Sam had never been more nervous in his life. Logically, he knew that if they didn’t win, they could try again next season, but he had a feeling - one that he suspected the rest of the team shared - that it was now or never.

The night before the game, Coach Lasso gathered them in the main conference room of the Hilton London Wembley, passed around hot chocolate, and gave them a pep talk so moving that even Isaac had tears in his eyes by the end. He then handed the reins to Nate and Coach Beard, who switched off reading the list of their rooming assignments. 

“Zoreaux and Montlaur,” Nate said. “You’re in 412. Bumbercatch and Maas, 413.”

“Tartt and McAdoo, 414,” Coach Beard said. He glanced at the list. “Obisanya and Rojas, 415.”

Sam’s entire body stiffened. He dared to smile when he glanced over at Dani, who was seated on the other side of the table with Isaac and Colin flanking him on either side. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before Dani looked away. He wasn’t smiling. Sam’s faded.

The room was nice. There were two full beds, with matching duvets and fluffed pillows. A cream-coloured rug, two desks, a large closet, a balcony overlooking the city - Sam inspected every inch of it himself once it became clear that Dani was not interested in making conversation beyond which bed and side of the closet the other wanted.

Finally, after Coach Beard went by knocking on doors and calling Lights out! Get some rest!, Dani dropped his empty duffel bag in a chair and looked in Sam’s direction. “Do you mind if I take the first shower?”

“Of course not,” Sam said. He would have agreed to anything Dani asked him at that exact moment, so relieved was he that Dani had finally spoken to him directly. “It’s all yours.”

Dani plugged his phone in and set it on the nightstand between their beds, and he nodded once in thanks before walking into the restroom and closing the door behind him.

Sam changed into boxer shorts and an old shirt from his days in the Nigerian League and sprawled on the bed, where he scrolled through the Richmond group chat without really taking anything in. His hands kept trembling, and bile rose up his throat at the reminder that at this time tomorrow, they’d either be back in the Premier League where they belonged or stuck in the Championship League for another season. The team was relying on him. Dani was relying on him. He couldn’t stomach the idea of letting any of them down.

You won’t, Grace would say if she were beside him. You’ll do wonderfully, little brother. I believe in you. But Grace wasn’t here, and his parents weren’t here, and Dani was out of reach. There was no one around to believe in him but himself.

Before he could stop himself, Sam opened Bantr. He hadn’t messaged Red in two days, not since he finished Deathly Hallows and told Sam so (without any added flirtations or emojis). The light next to Red’s name was yellow; he was idle, but not inactive. Maybe there was still a chance.

I’m sorry, Sam wanted to type. I’ve been a rubbish correspondent, and you deserve better than someone who likes you very much but still wishes desperately you were someone else. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he finally settled on a conversation starter.

(22:14) MagicMan: Will you be watching the Richmond match tomorrow?

On the nightstand, Dani’s phone chimed.

Sam’s heart stopped cold.

Slowly, carefully, as though a too-sudden movement would erase the past or reveal it all to be a dream, Sam got off the bed and stood in front of the nightstand. A Bantr notification rested atop numerous others on Dani’s screen, received at the same time Sam’s message came through. He waited until the screen darkened again, and reopened Bantr.

(22:15) MagicMan: ❤️❤️❤️

Dani’s phone chimed once more, and the screen lit up with a new notification from Bantr. Sam’s notification. Sam’s message to RedStrike. Sam’s message to Dani.

To Dani, all this time. Always.

He was still standing there when he heard the shower shut off, and the rush of the hairdryer, and the water running in the sink. He only turned when Dani stepped out of the bathroom - and watched as Dani’s eyes went from Sam’s face to the phones that Sam held now in both hands.

Silently, Sam crossed the room and handed Dani’s phone to him. With trembling fingers and Dani’s eyes on him, Sam opened Bantr once more.

(22:27) MagicMan: Is it you?

He watched as Dani saw the message come through. He watched Dani open Bantr, watched as the colour drained from Dani’s face, all but literally, like he had been cut open and his veins emptied, leaving him a bloodless, ashen brown. He watched Dani’s fingers move over the keyboard, slowly and deliberately.

(22:29) RedStrike: yes

Sam’s exhale was sudden and almost hurt, like it had been punched out of him. He stumbled back on legs that didn’t feel like his own and dropped his phone on the bed, put his hand to his forehead, shaking his head roughly, disbelievingly.

…Only it wasn’t that much of a stretch to believe at all. Sam had suspected this, after all. He’d hoped for this. And now he had so much proof he didn’t know what to do with it except laugh out loud and pray he could keep himself upright now that his knees were threatening to give out from the joyful relief bubbling up inside of him.

“I’m sorry,” Dani was saying, and Sam’s head snapped up. He was just standing there, stiff as a board in an overlong faded Tigres shirt and boxer shorts, holding his phone in a grip that trembled and looked like it hurt. He looked smaller, frailer, like the light that burned so brightly inside him was on the verge of burning out. His voice cracked. “Sam, please know I completely understand if you do not feel the same way, I - ”

Sam kissed him.

Dani’s lips were warm and stiff against his own, the rest of him so horribly tense that Sam drew back in alarm. Dani’s hands were frozen mid-air; his eyes were open so wide Sam could see the whites all around. His phone fell from his hand and landed on the rug with a clatter, but Dani didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Sam’s heart dropped to his knees. “Oh God,” he said, stricken, “that was too forward, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve wanted to do that for so long and - ”

Dani tackled him.

Sam landed flat on his back on the duvet, winded, and grabbed Dani by the front of his shirt, scrambling backwards so he could prop himself up against the headboard without breaking their kiss. Their kiss. Dani was kissing him, hard and hungry, like he’d been desperate for it all this time, desperate for Sam. Dani’s body was flush to Sam’s, his chest heaving, and Sam pulled him in even closer, wrapped an arm tight around his back. He dug his free hand into Dani’s hair, angling Dani’s head so the angle was better, and Dani made a strangled little noise and deepened the kiss, turning it into something breathy and open-mouthed and so hot Sam almost couldn’t stand it.

“I hoped it was you,” Sam panted, when they finally broke apart for air. He slid his free hand under Dani’s shirt, ran it up and down the warm stretch of skin. Strange how you could go so long without wanting something, only for it to occupy your every thought once you finally had it in your grasp. “I suspected, I didn’t know what to think - the Harry Potter, and what you told me about the goldfish, and - ”

“Sam.” Dani’s pupils were blown-dark, his lips red and swollen and centimetres from Sam’s own. A wave of arousal burned through Sam like a wildfire. “I want nothing more than to talk about this with you, but if you do not let me kiss you again I will die.”

Sam scarcely had time to nod in agreement before Dani kissed him again, and Sam let himself melt into the sensation. Yes. They could talk later. Much later. Definitely far away from now. 

They slid down the bed together, a tangle of loose limbs and fast, frantic kisses. Dani’s shirt was getting in the way; both of them were. He tugged up at the hem of Dani’s shirt insistently, and Dani propped himself up and over Sam, and - hesitating only for the barest of seconds - pulled his shirt over his head. Sam lost his breath at the sight, and lost his own shirt a moment later, and the way Dani was looking at him, stunned, reverent, made him feel like his heart was going to give out right there on the bed.

“Let me touch you, vida,” Dani whispered into the crook of Sam’s neck, his mouth hot against Sam’s skin, “please, let me,” and Sam groaned, nodded tightly, and canted his hips up, grinding against Dani. His cock was hard and heavy, and it gave a painful twitch at the choked little moan Dani made when he slid Sam’s shorts down his thighs and wrapped his hand around the shaft. Sam’s body went limp; his head tipped back against the duvet, his mind short-circuiting.

“Shift up, Dani,” Sam managed to say, and with some maneuvering they found a position that worked for them both. Turnabout's fair play, as Coach Lasso liked to say, (and oh God Sam did not want to be thinking of Coach Lasso right now) so Sam yanked down Dani’s shorts and worked his hand between their bodies, wrapping his hand around Dani’s cock and his own. Dani shuddered and enveloped his free hand half around Sam’s, and then they were moving together, wrapped in Sam’s hand, and in Dani’s hand, Dani’s fingers in all the spaces Sam couldn’t get to. He could feel everything building at the base of his spine, his stomach tightening. Their hands were slick with sweat and pre-come, moving faster. The mattress squeaked and groaned beneath them; Dani’s mouth was back on his neck.

“Dani,” Sam breathed, “Dani, yes, Dani,” and then Dani groaned like he’d been punched and came all over their hands and stomachs, mere seconds before Sam followed suit.

For several long moments they remained tangled up together, catching their breaths. Finally, Dani lifted his head and fumbled for a corner of the bedspread, pulling it back towards them so they could wipe themselves off. “Well.” Sam had never been so relieved to hear a teasing note in someone’s voice. “It is a good thing we have two beds.”

Sam felt lighter than air. “Yes. A very good thing.”

Dani turned onto his side, and Sam did too, clasping Dani’s hand loosely in his own. The smile he got in return was small, a little shy, but no less genuine. “Now I see why MagicMan always reminded me a little of you.”

Sam snorted. “I didn’t suspect anything at first,” he admitted, in response to Dani’s unspoken question. “But then you mentioned the goldfish, and I began thinking about Red being someone on the team, and…I started to hope Red could be you.” He squeezed Dani’s hand. “I’m very glad he is.”

Dani’s smile was like sunshine - only for clouds to cover it a moment later. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “I shouldn’t have ignored you.”

“Why did you?”

Dani worried at his bottom lip with his teeth. “I thought that I ruined our friendship when I tried to kiss you,” he said quietly. Sam remembered the stab of pain he’d felt at the emptiness in Dani’s voice after he moved away, and squeezed his hand again as an apology. “I thought that you hated me.”

“I could never hate you.” Dani didn’t look sure. Sam nudged his nose with his own. “Hey. I could never hate you. And if I did, why would I keep trying to talk to you?”

Dani shrugged. “I thought that you just wanted to let me down gently.”

“Well,” Sam said. “For the record, I do not want to let you down at all.” He paused. “I owe you an apology myself, for backing away. I was still trying to figure out if you were Red and - well, I wasn’t sure and I did not want to cheat on him. Or you.”

Dani’s lips twitched. “Luckily we are the same person, eh?”

“Very luckily,” Sam said - or tried to say, anyway, because something about the way Dani was looking at him now left him so breathless he could barely speak. “You told me I was your favourite player.”

Dani’s eyes softened. “I did.”

“You read Harry Potter for me.”

Dani lifted Sam’s hand to his mouth and pressed a feather-light kiss to his knuckles. “For you, mi vida,” he said, quiet but firm, “anything. Always.”

Fulham played hard, but Richmond played harder. They were nil-nil at halftime thanks to O’Brien’s spectacular save, and the second half passed in a blur of near passes, near misses, and every trick play Richmond had ever practised. With seventy seconds remaining and OT looming, Isaac put up his hand and stuck his pinky out - calling for the Earl Grey play, Jamie’s lovechild that had yet to see the light of an actual match. Even from across the pitch, Sam could see the coaches cross their fingers and begin praying to the gods of their choice.

But the gods favoured fools, drunks, and footballers, and the play worked. Jan passed to Jamie, who tore down the pitch like a man possessed flanked by Isaac and Tommy. Wembley leapt to its feet as Jamie made the extra pass to Dani in the split second before he was tackled hard by Robinson, and the stadium exploded as Dani put it away. Forty seconds later, the seats were a waving, screaming sea of red and blue and flashing cameras, Coach Beard and Coach Lasso danced hand in hand with a sobbing Nate, and Richmond - now back in the Premier League where they had always belonged - came together in a tight embrace before splitting into several smaller, ecstatic groups shouting WE KNOW WE ARE WE’RE SURE WE ARE WE’RE RICHMOND TIL WE DIE at the blue sky above.

Sam let go of Jamie and O’Brien and looked around frantically, his heart soaring on a path forged by joy and adrenaline - and there was Dani breaking free of Thierry and Jan and running toward him. Sam met him halfway and hefted him into the air when Dani threw his arms around him, nearly overbalancing and sending them sprawling onto the grass. Dani was laughing, beaming brightly enough to put the sun overhead to shame, and Sam clutched him tight. “Football is life!”

Dani’s grin nearly split his face in two. “Fútbol is life!”

The shout was taken up by the other players, and Dani pumped his fist in the air triumphantly.

Laughing, Sam set him down, and when their eyes met, it was as though all the sound and colour of the world around them melted away, leaving only them.

Dani leaned in, and without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about his career or his family or the cameras trained on them or the fact that eighty-five thousand people and counting were watching, Sam kissed him.

After several long moments - or half an hour, came the familiar refrain, or several sunlit days - they broke apart. The stadium had gone very quiet. The coaches had stopped dancing; the players stared at them with dropped jaws and enormous eyes. Dani clutched Sam’s hand tightly, defiantly. The adrenaline faded. Sam’s heart took refuge in his throat.

Then Jamie walked over and stood on Sam’s left; he jutted his jaw and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, glaring out at the crowd. Then Isaac followed, taking the spot on Dani’s right, and Tommy, and Jan and Bumbercatch and Colin and all the rest, until they were flanked both sides and behind. Dani didn’t let go of Sam’s hand. And slowly, the volume of the cheers and applause from the sea of Richmond supporters rose and rose until it was all that Sam could hear.

“Could have warned me, you know.”

Sam turned to face Jamie, frowning. The other players were talking amongst themselves in the hall; Keeley, Higgins and Ms. Welton were inside with the coaches already, answering preliminary questions before they brought the whole team inside. (None of them said it, but Sam could tell they all knew there’d be less questions about the final and more about their kiss. He wasn’t sure what worried him more.) “Warned you?”

“About that stunt of yours on the pitch,” Jamie said. The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “If you waited ‘til tonight I’d’ve won two hundred quid.”

Sam snorted. Dani cracked a smile. “Next time, amigo.”

“Cheers,” Jamie said, and clapped him on the shoulder.

Coach Lasso opened the door and stuck his head out; a wave of bright lights, clicking camera shutters, and microphone feedback followed him and nearly bowled them all over. “Boys,” he said, over the noise. “They’re ready for you.”

One by one, the players filed out of the hall and into the room, greeted by shouts from the press, until Sam and Dani were alone. Sam met Dani’s gaze head-on. It is not too late to change your mind, he wanted to say. “Are you ready?”

Dani nodded. “I am,” he said. In his eyes and outstretched hand was a promise, a challenge: Not a chance.

Sam took Dani’s proffered hand, and breathed in, then out.

Together, they walked out of the hall and into the light.