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sicksadgames · 3 months ago

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As the Sun Forever Sets - Terror in the time of the Telegraph

It’s nuts I’ve been working on this game for over 4 years at this point. As the Sun Forever Sets is for sure my biggest and most capital G Game. It even has a publisher and everything. It’s also my first game! Wow! It's been tough, though. We'll get into it!

Britain, 1899

As the Sun Forever Sets is a survival horror sandbox based on the War of the Worlds, utilises the Forged in the Dark ruleset, and is about ordinary people surviving a Martian invasion of Victorian era Britain. We play to find out how they rise to meet the storm of destruction, the ways in which it shapes them, and if they survive to see a new world emerge, or die amidst the rubble of the old.

In the last years of Queen Victoria’s reign, the British Empire stretches across a quarter of the globe, and under the guise of genteel progress and civilisation, it commits theft and murder on a global scale. Britain itself is on the verge of the modern era, the Second Industrial Revolution pushing people into the cities to drive the factories and forges owned by the greedy industrialist class. But beyond the common causes of humanity and unbeknownst to the men who impose their rule over it, vast wheels have begun their inexorable turning. Across 40 million miles of void, the Martian invasion hurtles Earthward. Screaming across the stars, instruments of annihilation unlike anything believed possible lie ready for assembly, alongside the Martians themselves. They are truly inscrutable beings, but their intent is as clear as it is terrible – they will suck the literal and figurative blood from the Earth, and nothing less than the complete and utter subjugation of humanity will be enough.

If this sounds cool to you... well, you gotta wait, it’s not done yet. Sorry! But you can come and hang out in the Sick Sad Games discord, where I post excerpts and occasionally organise playtests.

The Hard Times of (Old) England

Be warned, this is a long one - over 4000 words (if you don't have a Tumblr account, you won't get to the end before it starts bugging you to register one, so go read this on Medium instead.) It turns out when you work on a game for a long time, you have a lot to say about it. Strap in, grab your gin and laudanum, and let’s destroy an evil empire just by existing.

Thanks to the wonderful @hendrik-ten-napel for taking a look over my disorganised thoughts.

(Potential) Spoilers for: The Bear, The War of the Worlds, The Last of Us, Children of Men, Threads, When the Wind Blows, Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs, The Thing.

Roleplay in the Pre-Post-Apocalypse

TTRPGs love a good post apocalypse. It's understandable - gas up and ride glorious on the legally distinct fury road, run a commune of like minded weirdos in the ashes of the old world, go digging through retro-futuristic ruins to find retro-futuristic treasures. Who wouldn't want to do any of these? But As the Sun Forever Sets is about an apocalypse as it begins, not after it’s over.

There's a lot of crossover, of course. There’s a focus on similar things - disaster and spectacle, relationships and trust, scavenging and survival. But the bonus of the world not yet being over, is that we get to roleplay out dealing with that terrible, inexorable reality.

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HG Wells wrote a book about blowing up all the places he used to live, and it's a banger. I was surprised to find there wasn't a TTRPG based on the War of the Worlds, being the tantalisingly public domain ur-alien invasion story it is. As the Sun Forever Sets is very explicitly an adaption of it, to the point that before I came up with the name it almost got released as The War of the Worlds: The Roleplaying Game (lol). I'm glad I didn't, doing my own thing has meant both me and the people playing are way more free to fuck around without the expectation that it must adhere to a canon.

The book is good, strikingly modern feeling in parts, and obviously massively influential - so much science fiction can be traced back to our nameless Narrators tormentuous trek across the south of England. But Wells’ prose is typical Victorian - overly wordy and florid (any book that contains the word “ejaculating” meaning “to shout” might be difficult for readers who aren’t used to the style), so when it comes to recommending an actual adaptation, there’s only one true king. Whenever I bring up Jeff Wayne’s The War of the Worlds, the usual reaction from anyone outside of the UK is to say "... they made a what?"

My mom was very keen to get me into musicals, but nothing really stuck until she tried this, the secret best War of the Worlds adaption (sorry Steven Spielberg, but you were doomed from the start.) It's the bombast and drama you'd expect from a disaster film, the horror and pathos of Wells’ classic, all expressed through vivid narration and sick nasty prog rock - wailing guitar and crunchy 70's synths operating at full effect. It's not completely faithful to the book, it doesn't matter. It’s the best.

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Ah yes, the film bro's favourite mid 2000's film. Did you see that sick oner? That’s six minutes without a cut, that means the film’s good right? Children of Men is a slow burn apocalypse, dressed up like a world that’s already ended. Plenty has been written about all the little ways the film is prescient about the state of the UK - the slow belly-crawl into facism and nationalist fervour, the particularly British decay and class divide exacerbated by the desperate times, even the willful ignorance and the explicit sense that everyone’s just given up, it’s all here.

All that thematic stuff seems like it’d be really relevant to As the Sun Forever Sets, right?

Unfortunately, we are in fact here to talk about the long takes. The unbroken moment-to-moment action scenes evoke The War of the Worlds to a tee. Theo navigates danger with the same fraught tactical tension as War of the World's Narrator - dashing between doorways, groping for an axe handle in the darkness, desperately trying to start a car as assailants sprint towards him. What’s the best way out of this situation? How do I get from here to where I need to be? He lives his life in rolling, fleeting 5 second intervals, because he’s forgotten what it means to think in the long term - about the future, and what it might hold.

I was always fascinated and terrified by the idea of nuclear war. I guess it comes from watching a lot of 90’s disaster movies, but those are often ultimately fun romps where the day gets saved at the end, or at least the main characters find themselves alive and well at the end of the saga of destruction. Instead, As the Sun Forever Sets asks you to reflect on the horror and sadness present at the end of the world. Things are going to change forever, and change is always hard.

There’s not many clips of Threads and When the Wind Blows online, so it’s a little hard to demonstrate their particular nuclear inflected pitch black darkness. They’re grim - Grave of the Fireflies grim - differing in focus but united in their horrible impact.

When the Wind Blows is a story of an elderly couple living in rural England when the bombs drop, based on the comic by Raymond Briggs. Yes, The Snowman’s Raymond Briggs made a film about 2 lovely grandparents dying of acute radiation poisoning. Jim and Hilda are completely unprepared for what’s to come, their only reference is the Blitz - terrible in its own way, but not a patch on the scale of death they’re about to experience.

They survive the blast and wait for the good old British Government to arrive to save them, as it did in the 40’s. Slowly liquifying in the nuclear fallout, they hold onto each other and keep their spirits up, eventually making the decision to clamber into the paper sacks they mistakenly believed might protect them from the blast. Clutching their medical cards and birth certificates (for the ambulance, sure to be along any minute now), Jim mumbles painfully through a final prayer that morphs into a misremembered Charge of the Light Brigade, and they slip into a perpetual slumber together.

The most tragic part is Jim and Hilda’s unshakeable faith that their government is there for them - ready to catch them when they fall - borne out of Britain’s post WW2 renewal but absent in the 1980’s of the film’s plot, and the Britain of today. It’s a masterful film, shockingly sad, but the shock is the point.

Instead of aiming for your heart, Threads aims for the head. It’s a drama that aims to be as accurate as possible to government research into what a nuclear war might look like, plainly and forensically setting it out without any thought of softening these hard facts for its audience. Rather than focusing on a personal story, Threads flits around several groups of characters - minor government figures and ordinary families. Like Jim and Hilda, they too are woefully unprepared for the end of the world, and those in charge know there’s no way the UK could ever be ready for such a thing.

As mundane life is quietly intruded upon by news updates detailing far off geopolitics and the subsequent escalation that leads to war, the tension rises subtly then suddenly, like a spacecraft on the launchpad. People we’ve seen pottering about their normal lives are maimed and evaporated in the subsequent shocking nuclear exchange, whilst stark statistics flash on the screen - the hundreds of thousands instantly killed, how long the millions more fatally irradiated have left to live, the woefully inadequate tonnage of stockpiled food to feed those who survive. Each zero hits like a gutpunch.

And when you think the film must nearly be over, it keeps going. 1 week later. 1 year later. Threads grinds to an excruciating halt 13 years after the bombs fall, after year upon year of failed harvests from a destroyed earth barely able to support a population level equivalent to medieval Britain. At one point, mute children watch a warped and scratchy VHS of classic kids educational programme Words and Pictures on a TV powered by a steam generator.

The friendly presenter spells out the word “cat” through the thick veil of static, accompanied by a picture of one - an animal the children watching will likely never see. As they watch with blank, emotionless faces, the image of the cat fades to one of its skeletal form. “A cat’s skeleton” the presenter enthusiastically intones. The unrelenting bleakness might feel like a punishment, but Threads doesn’t mean it to be. This is just what would happen, after all.

Love in the time of the Heat-ray

In fact, someone in a Reddit thread said As the Sun Forever Sets “wasn’t just endless misery” and I’m glad that comes across. I wanted there to be moments of tenderness, quiet joy, anger, frustration, love and loss to punctuate the action and the horror.

People are messy and complicated even at the best of times. Under pressure, this is amplified a thousandfold - a little crush becomes a whirlwind romance, small disagreements become full blown fights, and not fully understanding someone might transform them into an enemy in your head.

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The little town Bill conspires to be left alone in ends up comparatively untouched by the horrors going on elsewhere, as untouched as anywhere can be in The Last of Us. He hated the world anyways - so he isolates himself as he prepares for it to end, and it makes sense that his life only really begins as the show does. When Frank arrives, Bill is forced not to just engage with the broader world outside of his little enclave, but in the act of truly living in it.

There’s no prepper’s guide to romance. A human heart can’t be field stripped for maintenance. By choosing to exist as a vulnerable, emotional being, Bill opens himself up to a different kind of apocalypse. Frank becomes the flowering vines that slowly crack the flat concrete wall of a world that Bill created, and when those vines die, the wall can only crumble. It’s so fraught and lovely, delicately yet absolutely gut wrenching. At least their apocalypse was one they decided to have together.

“I’m old. I’m satisfied. And you… were my purpose.” - "Long Long Time”, The Last of Us

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While several of my TTRPG writing friends were gushing about how great The Bear is, Em Acosta, author of the wonderfully inspirational Exile pointed out something super interesting - a lot of the show is about how you deal with people you’ve found yourself stuck with. No matter how much they piss you off, or whatever they do wrong, there’s something that means you can’t ever let them truly exit your life. They’re there, like it or not, until the bitter end.

Turns out this is very similar to how As the Sun Forever Sets handles Player Character relationships. In both it and The Bear, nothing’s ever truly resolved between characters - every relationship is like a cooking pot perpetually simmering. You might’ve apologised, made a truce, or just ignored your issues for so long that they seem to disappear, but no matter what, you’ve got to keep your eye on that pot.

Because suddenly a crisis will hit, and someone says something, or a diceroll comes up bad and all of a sudden the pot boils over and things are once again fucked. You storm out, start screaming, throw a fork. Even in the worst case scenario where a Character leaves because they’re absolutely sick of the rest of the group, they might show up at the end of the game for one last scene. Who knows how you’ll all feel at the end - nothing is ever truly fixed, and only the dead are truly broken.

“I quit, chef, is what’s going on. You are an excellent chef. You are also a piece of shit. This isn’t on me. Goodbye." - “The Review”, The Bear

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I’ve talked about The Thing a little before, John Carpenters sweaty, paranoid antarctic masterpiece. Along with the incredible effects and the (mostly) restrained use of action and bombast, the thing that makes... The Thing work is that the staff of the stricken research base lack any and all emotional intelligence.

It’s sort of the ultimate reverse Dudes Rock movie. Nobody knows anything about each other, so when their bodies and minds are colonised by the titular chameleon from outer space, they’re just another stranger to the rest of the crew. I’d ask you a question only you would know the answer to, but uh.. I don’t know anything about you. Whoops!

Over the course of the film, the whole operation falls apart as they try their best to work together to deal with the alien interloper, but their complete lack of ability to trust or relate to each other - present even before the crisis they find themselves in - is their ultimate downfall.

That final excellent shot of MacReady and Childs sat in the snow at the end of the film as their compound burns around them is the subject of a lot of unnecessary theorycrafting youtube videos, which kind of misses the point. Each suspects the other, but ultimately it doesn’t matter if one of them’s a Thing. One stranger is the same as another. Why bother getting to know each other now?

“Well...What do we do?” “Why don't we just... wait here for a little while? See what happens.” - Childs and Macready, The Thing

Science Fiction Revenge Fantasy

I’m not a historian, but the parallels between 1899 and now are pretty plain to see. Increasing class disparity, a lack of political will to help those in need, rampant cronyism and profiteering. As long as you’re in the place for it, roleplaying in a fictionalised version of the past to air out the issues of the present can be super fun and cathartic. You’re not expected to get a degree in British history to make it work, either.

The title is a play on the phrase “The Sun Never Set on the British Empire”, and it’s plainly stated in the book that Britains Empire acted as a mechanism of genocidal oppression, and that the Martians are here to end it - intentionally or not. It’s appealing as a premise on the face of it, but it goes a little deeper. Memories of Empire echo across time in Britain like the ringing of a malevolent bell, a cause celebre for braying Tories and fascistic right wing cunts (two very close circles in the venn diagram.)

We used to be a great country before this woke nonsense. Things were better back in the old days. The DEI contingent is trying to destroy our noble past. Yada yada yada, fuck offff. I’m sure someone somewhere will accuse me of “wokewashing” the past for including explicitly trans and queer characters as part of the book, along with the historical facts around how we fit into the oppressive Victorian conception of sex and gender. Unfortunately for them, we’ve always been here.

To be a little pretentious about it, every game of As the Sun Forever Sets reaches back into the past and cuts the myth of a glorious and benevolent Empire, and the good old days enjoyed within it off at the neck, purely in the act of beginning one. That sparks a little joy for me. Destroying a racists dream is fun, even if it’s only in the abstract.

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A horror game about the most literalist Victorian industrialist imaginable hearing the phrase “Eat the rich” and getting right on that. I’ve not played Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs despite fond (??) memories of playing The Dark Descent in a room full of jumpy friends, and seeing Dear Esther played live on stage, with a live orchestra and narrator - an exquisite way to experience that game.

The mechanical chops of Frictional Games mixed with the narrative verve of The Chinese Room, how could this game be anything less than incredible?

After The Dark Descent I fell off’ve the “scary guy chases you around” genre of game until Alien: Isolation revitalised it, and the reviews of A Machine for Pigs were mixed - kind of boring, middling gameplay, too dark - so I never went back. I was planning on writing a little about its vibe - dark, gothic Victoriana that rhymes nicely with As the Sun Forever Sets - but after a bit of research, Mandus’ quest for his missing sons strikes an unexpectedly resonant and terrible chord.

The writing and voice acting is phenomenal, Mandus’ split consciousness - the self you play and the other half of him that’s seen the horrors of the forthcoming 20th Century and is compelled to act, imbued into the myopic machine he built - is extremely compelling. He feels compassion for the poor and wants to save them, but they fill him with fear and disgust. He knows the industrialist class is killing the world, but feels a deep shame in the fact that he counts himself amongst them. So his machine grinds the rich into meat for the poor, who it distorts into grotesque pig homunculi and forces them to operate the machine’s inscrutable workings.

It’s Mandus’ twisted way of saving the world - kill the rich for their crimes, enslave the poor for their own good, all hail the new machine/god/manager of the 20th century. It’s a neat reflection of the way modern politicians contort themselves to the whims of big business and AI snake oil salesmen to avoid doing the simple and obvious things that’d better the world. It’s a nightmarish refutation of Victorian Liberalism, that only the upper class know how to fix the problems of the lower class. It’s brilliant, and we should play it.

"Do you hear me Mandus? This is what you planned! This world is a machine! A Machine for Pigs! Fit only for the slaughtering of pigs! Whores, beggars, orphans, filthy degenerates. Pigs all. But I will purify the streets, cleanse this city, set the great industry free. I will clean the world, make it pure." - The Machine, A Machine for Pigs

Song of the Year, of the Century

Not long after I came out as trans, I was asked what (in an ideal world) would make transition easier. I replied - never having to leave the house. One day I'd shut the front door as a man and another day, months or years later, I'd open it again as a woman, neatly sidestepping the terror of being perceived in a notoriously transphobic Britain.

In 2020 I shut that door and didn't open it for 4 months. At work, I remember calling the nearby shelter to donate our excess hand sanitizer and toilet roll, figuring out at the last second how support workers could take calls from their already isolated clients via their mobile phones, and fixating on the steady stream of scared coworkers leaving early. Tearfully, I felt the urge to hug those that remained as we locked up, before we remembered we probably shouldn't.

I've never been more aware of the minutia of moving through a space on the way home - How many people had their hands on this handrail? Have I touched my mouth or eyes without realising? Is anyone in the office already sick? Or on this train? How many more people are going to die? - My heart was in my chest, I heard the blood whoosh through my head to the beat of my steps on the pavement. At home, I realised my boyfriend had to go into work the next day. After he went to sleep, terrified he might die, I cried.

"I remember I felt an extraordinary persuasion that I was being played with, that presently, when I was upon the very verge of safety, this mysterious death—as swift as the passage of light—would leap after me from the pit about the cylinder, and strike me down." - "The Heat Ray", The War of the Worlds

Writing As the Sun Forever Sets was my way of coping with the disconnect with the world I felt, the fear of both Covid and the rising transphobia kept me inside even as the lockdowns eased. That feeling of throbbing death creeping at the window took a long time to wrestle under control, and getting deeply obsessed with a big project became part of that process. It seems incredibly maudlin to make a TTRPG dealing with darkness and death during a pandemic that killed (and continues to kill) millions of people, but I suppose I’m kind of a maudlin person.

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“I haven't written a song in a month, So I'm playing the same chords again. I know I need to get lost in the moment, But I get lost before it begins. Fingers stretching out into space. Reaching as a thought slips away.”

It also burnt me the fuck out. After years of constant work and testing (beginning long before Evil Hat picked up the game), I ran out of steam. I spent the months after Evil Hat’s public playtest ended not really able to write anything ATSFS related at all. The game kind of froze - I knew what I wanted to change or fix or add, but the moment the google doc opened I couldn’t make myself start typing. It was incredibly frustrating to have the switch flip from endless obsessive writing to constant nothing, and I don’t think I truly recognised the burnout I was feeling until recently. It turns out spending years staying up past midnight writing is bad, who know!

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A lot of Forged in the Dark games don’t get finished (or more accurately, get stuck in perpetual development), something that the excellent and dearly missed +1 Forward podcast recognised in their episode collecting their thoughts on the FITD games they looked at back in 2021. I think that’s because, at least to me, writing a Forged in the Dark game is like trying to hold a plate of spaghetti without the plate. It’s deceptively simple at its heart, but the system squirms when you poke at it - write one thing and it affects 3 other things. Tug one piece of pasta out and you lose a meatball without realising it.

When I listened to that episode, I took it as a challenge. Part of me now wonders if it was a curse. I'm being hyperbolic, of course. But a little part of me did think it might be better to give the game up.

That’s not going to be As the Sun Forever Sets' fate, thankfully. Evil Hat has been there to support me when I’ve felt guilty about shifting another deadline or replying to a check-in email with another late “Not much progress this month, sorry!” The frozen writers block is thawing, and I’m so tantalisingly close to finishing the final text. This blog is part of that process, another chip in the icy dam.

The wheels of dread Martian terror turn once again, and it feels good. Part of that is down to not beating myself up about a lack of progress. The more important part came when I realised I felt able to return to the world again - living in it, not hiding from it. Staying connected to it, even when there's times I'm not able to inhabit it physically. Covid, Britains particular brand of transphobic brainworms, and the shadow of Empire all continue to exist, and so do I - a weird maudlin transsexual woman - in spite of them all.

“The day seemed, by contrast with my recent confinement, dazzlingly bright, the sky a glowing blue. A gentle breeze kept the red weed that covered every scrap of unoccupied ground gently swaying. And oh! the sweetness of the air!” - “The Stillness”, The War of the Worlds

You made it!

Thanks for sticking with my messy thoughts. If what I talked about here sounds cool to you, please stop by the Discord, we'd love to have you. Look forward to seeing As the Sun Forever Sets come to a crowdfunding platform of Evil Hat's choice (I assume backerkit) at some point in the future ♥.

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #forged in the dark #horror #war of the worlds #ttrpg design #science fiction #incredible self indulgence #as the sun forever sets

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jsprnt · 10 months ago

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Americano PT. 5 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: pff, this was a long one, enjoy babes. A heads up in advance, I’ll be taking a break in the first week of April due to my exams 🫶

W/C: 4.558

part four

"Come in here and bring your laundry hamper!"

"Just a second, dad!"

I jump out of bed, leaving my phone on the other end of it, and grab the pink hamper. I hold onto the handles tightly as I make my way out of my room.

I see him standing over the washing machine in the laundry room. I enter quickly, the both of us starting to sort out the dirty clothes and putting them in the machine accordingly.

"Did you finish packing?" My dad asks, glancing at me before grabbing the laundry detergent and fabric softener out of the cabinet above me.

"Yeah, just a couple basic things. It's like a 2-3 day trip."

He pours the blue liquid into the cap, checking the measurements before pouring it into the designated compartment. Doing the same thing with the fabric softener.

"Really? No fancy dress or anything?"

I look up from the washing machine, a sheepish smile forming on my face. I watch him shake his head in disbelief, a smile on his face as he turns the machine on.

"When I sent you abroad- I thought your aunt would raise you exactly like I would. But I forgot she probably raised you to love dressing up like her. You know, she used to terrorize me in my own room growing up, only because I had bigger windows and thus better lighting for when she did her makeup.." He shakes his head, chuckle leaving him as he reminisces.

I laugh at him, the smile on my face bigger now.

"I think packing something proper is very important. It worked out pretty well last Saturday when we went for dessert in Girona."

"Just stay safe when going out. It's a dangerous world, honey." He says, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I purse my lips at his words, remembering what had happened just a couple nights ago. He didn't know about the entire debacle, but since it was already dealt with, I didn't see a reason to bring it up.

"When are you getting up?"

"Not super early, like around eight? The match isn't until Tuesday, so no early flight."

"You know, it's almost twelve, right? Go to bed already, and don't go on your phone." He tuts, scolding me and pushing me towards my room.

"Alright, I'll go to bed."

"Goodnight, I love you." He says, kissing my forehead before he makes his way down the stairs.

"Love you too!" I shout as I watch him walk away while I stand in front of my bedroom door. The silence of the house surrounding me when I’m left alone.

The team had finally wrapped up training for the day. We had arrived in Napels that morning, and they had trained hard until late in the afternoon.

This left us with some free time for the rest of the day, until we had to prepare for the match tomorrow.

"You've been doing your makeup for about 40 minutes now." I hear Luis complain, lying flat on his back on top of my bed.

"I could be meeting my future Italian husband out there! Come on, let me look cute for tonight."

I darken up my eye makeup, coloring my waterline with a black pencil to contrast my white dress.

I then drench my face in setting spray, fanning it dry with a random brochure, I found on the nightstand.

"Besides, you're wrinkling your clothes, stand up. I can't have you looking bummy! What if you find yourself a pretty lady?" I wink, struggling to hold back a laugh at the unimpressed expression he sends me.

I finally stand up from the chair, smoothing down my dress in front of the mirror, and adjust the slit a little.

"We can go now!"

"Are you drinking?"

"No, not feeling it tonight." I mutter, eyeing the delicious-sounding food on the menu.

I look up, watching Luis flip through the menu.

"I'm going to order a pizza."

"Why pizza?" He asks, looking at me.

"We are practically in the birthplace of pizza. Are you judging me?" I ask, raising a brow at him.

"Just get it, I'm not judging you.." He raises his hands as if to surrender.

"You're so mean when you're hungry." He mumbles, closing his menu.

"Just appreciate the fact that I dragged you here. Look at how beautiful the view is.

I turn, admiring the view behind the glass panels of the restaurant. The Vesuvius mountain and the water are absolutely breathtaking, especially right now during sunset.

He sighs at me in agreement, looking around to find a waiter for us to finally order our food.

I watch him order for the both of us, getting distracted by the view, and turn towards him when the waiter leaves.

"If you get hammered, I'll leave you here.."

"So, now you want to find an Italian girlfriend?" I ask Luis bewildered, watching him walk - no stumble in front of me.

The drinks he ordered were good, so good he felt inclined to ordered multiple of them. I didn't keep count, but he definitely had more than his limit, which made him the drunk mess he was right now.

"Of course, you're my best friend. We should each find a person to marry!" He slurs, walking towards the docks.

I sigh deeply, looking down at my heels, before jogging up to him, clutching onto his shirt tightly.

"You're going to fall into the water!" I shout, trying to hold him back from the edge, but he shouts in protest.

"It's fine, maybe one of these hot people will save me from drowning."

Oh my god

I look up to where he's pointing, seeing a group of people on an expensive-looking catamaran. I'm way too distracted to realize my grip on Luis has loosened, and watch him leave. I see him greet the partying people loudly. I close my eyes in embarrassment, wanting to jump into the water out of shame.

Who even parties on a random Monday evening?

I surprisingly hear someone shout something in what sounds like Italian. I turn my head, eyes searching as I turn my attention to the person.

My eyes meet the eyes of a tall, brown-eyed, beautifully sun-kissed man. His blue linen shirt halfway unbuttoned.

He looked like, and definitely is trouble.

I hear him say something again, and my eyes widen when they go back to Luis, who looks like he's having the time of his life with two girls.

"English?" I hear the beautiful stranger ask.

I nod, watching him walk towards the dock and then, interestingly enough, reach for my hand.

I would never leave Luis alone on this boat full of strangers. Therefore, I reluctantly grab the guy's hand as he pulls me onto the boat.

"Hi?" I greet, raising a brow. Quickly smoothing my dress down.

"Hello, and your name is?" He asks, eyes roaming up and down my body, definitely checking me out. The Aussie accent practically melting me on the spot, making it difficult for my jaw to stay closed.

He was the definition of trouble.

But I needed to get my mess of a friend off this damn boat and leave.

"y/n, yours?" I ask, pretending to be more interested than I am, sneakily glancing at Luis.

"I'm Chris. You're not from here, are you?"

Obviously not

"No, I'm actually from Valencia."

A white lie, he didn't have to know anything about me.

"Valencia, Spain? What are you and your friend doing here?"

"Visiting, for fun." I lie again, giving him a smile.

"Really? Having fun so far?" He smiles, his pearly white teeth blinding me.

"Yeah, a lot of fun." I reply, my brows raising in fake interest.

I watch him chuckle, his plump lips curling up. His arm going up to run a hand through his blonde locks.

"Care for a drink, then?"

As beautiful as this man was, I wasn't naive enough to accept a drink from him. Especially, since we were in a totally different country.

"I'm fine, actually. I'm leaving tomorrow, so I'm trying to not drink as much."

"Oh, you probably came to watch the Champions League game then?"

Got me, kind of.

I immediately pull a sour face, pretending to be disgusted.

"Of course not, I have better things to do than attend a Real Madrid match. If it wasn't for Valencia, I'd be for Barcelona anyway.."

That one physically hurt to say.

"Oh- don't get mad now." He teases, putting his hands up, his smile getting wider.

I had to leave hastily, at least before this man got me into his bed.

"You're fine. I'm just trying to get my friend and leave. You alright with that?"

"Let me get your number first. Don't think I'll forget you after tonight." He says, handing me his phone.

I was curving the man left and right, and he still wanted my number?

"I don't really give out my number. But I can give you my Instagram handle?"

"That's fine." He says, clicking on his Instagram.

I watch his screen, my eyes accidentally catching the number of girls on his explore page.

No way, this man was looking for something serious.

"Oh, I'll type it in. If that's alright?" I say, reaching for his phone. He nods, handing me the device.

I quickly type in my username, pressing follow.

To snoop a little further, I go back to the explore page, seeing more ass and boobs than I had prepared for. Pretending to be unfazed as I clear the Instagram tab and hand his phone back to him.

I mean, their bodies were amazing, but why the hell was he following them?

"That's it. Here you go. My phone is dead, so I'll talk to you later?" I say, fidgeting with my handbag. My social battery was dying even faster than normal tonight.

I watch him nod, his eyes on me, as I immediately make my way to Luis, who's now sitting with a random girl.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt, but we have to leave."

I grab onto Luis' arm, using all my strength to get him up. Noticing the amount of shot glasses and empty beer bottles in front of them.

How the hell did he manage to do that so fast?

Idiot.

"Wait, do you want his Instagram?" I ask the girl. She hesitates before nodding looking at us confused.

"Okay, well, let me spell it for you."

I spell his username quickly, turning away.

"Yes, that's it. We're not a thing, by the way- he's my brother. Bye!"

Another lie, but maybe it would help him in the long run.

"Let's go, come on." I groan, dragging Luis back to the hotel.

It was doable until he started leaning his body on me, making me slump partially. My heels beginning to hurt my feet more than ever.

After a good ten minutes of struggling, we finally enter the elevator of the hotel, his body weight starts to pile on me. Arriving at our correct floor I drag him out, a huge sigh of relief leaving my lips as I recognize some of our Real Madrid players.

"Help." I mumble, watching some of them recognize the fact that I was half-suffocating.

I watch Antonio, Aurélien, and Jude, of all people, walk towards us, getting drunk and passed out Luis off of me.

"Thank you." I sigh, fixing myself, watching Antonio comically throw Luis onto one of the seats there.

"What happened to him?" I hear Brahim say as I try to catch my breath and I readjust my grip on my bag.

"Long story."

"Let's put him to bed first." Antonio says, making me nod. All of our eyes moving to a passed-out Luis.

"So, he got into a random boat?" Federico asks, looking at me.

I nod, trying to hold back a laugh while I drink my water. The cardigan I had retrieved from my room keeping me warm as we sat in the sky lounge.

"I would've partied." I look up at Cama, shaking my head.

"They were strangers, come on! But- one guy did approach me." I say, sending him a smug look.

"So you had some fun!"

"Look, he was cute. He offered me a drink, but I refused."

"That's it? Come on..”

"Why are you all up in my business?" I joke, being half-serious, hearing some of them laugh.

I finish my cup of water, beginning to stand up from my seat.

"It's getting late, I'm going up to my room. Don’t make it late, you guys need to rest well!" I say, waving after they send me off with kind words.

I press the elevator button, crossing my arms as I wait for it to arrive. The doors open a few seconds later, and I step in. I raise my head in surprise when I see an arm hold the doors open. Surprise turns into irritation when I notice Jude step in.

"Why did you follow me?" I ask, playing with the clasp on my bag.

"You know, not everything is about you." He mutters, a fed-up expression on his face. I sigh, closing my eyes in impatience, as I lean against the elevator wall.

The elevator makes a noise, and I check the floor number, getting out, hearing him follow me.

I start rummaging through my handbag for my room-key. Finally, fishing it out as we walk up to our respective rooms.

I arrive at my door, hearing Jude walk up to his own, his room interestingly enough being across from mine.

I go to scan my card but freeze, realizing my door is open by a small sliver.

"Why is my door open?" I mumble to myself, trying to subdue my instant panic.

"What?" I hear, seeing Jude walk up to me from the corner of my eye. His eyes darting in between me and the door.

"You left it open, probably." He responds, not an ounce of concern in his voice.

"You think?"

"Yeah, since you're so good with doors-"

"Okay, stop right there." I mutter, pushing the door open further. I flick the light on, looking around cautiously.

I hear him scoff at my behavior, and I turn around to look at him.

"Can you check the room?" I ask, trying to sound as nice as possible.

"No." He deadpans, giving me a bored look.

I hold back a string of cuss words, stepping into the room as he stands at the doorway.

"Stay here at least, before I get murdered."

"Would be a sight." He mutters, voice laced with humor. Though, I found it difficult to see this situation as funny.

"You're not funny. Are you aware of that?" I ask, punching into the curtains to check if anyone's hiding behind them.

"Find anything, detective?"

"Shut up." I whisper, going to open the bathroom door, hesitating for a moment.

Adrenaline starts pumping through my veins. I try to take deep breaths to prepare for a fight.

"What if someone's actually here?" I whisper, my eyes wide, as I turn to look at Jude.

I watch his expression harden, his jaw tensing as he looks at me.

"What do you mean?!" I hear Jude whisper back. His voice is hushed and more low than usual.

I take off both of my heels, ready to bash the possible intruder’s head in with my heels.

"Call security." I whisper, preparing to fight. I watch him take out his phone, before he raises his head again. His expression darkens for a moment before it changes into something- else...

"What are you doing, idiot? Come here." He says, and I can almost make out a vein popping out of his forehead.

All of the sudden, he makes his way over to me, grabbing my wrist and dragging me out of my room. Shutting the heavy door behind me, his hands coming up to my shoulders.

"What is wrong with you? You don't even know if they're with a weapon or anything!" He shouts in a hushed voice, his Brum accent more prominent than ever.

I continue staring at him, my lips parting in realization.

Damn, I was such a shallow thinker in times of crisis.

My mind turns blank, not acknowledging Jude's presence anymore. I can only hear him sigh and mumble something as security from both the club and hotel arrive at my room.

"Could you take her somewhere else, sir?” I hear someone say, feeling my wrist being pulled abruptly by Jude.

I follow him blindly, but I try to look back at my room. Wanting to see if someone would actually appear out of my room.

"Don't look." I hear, looking in front of me again as I’m brought into the hotel room across from mine. Nicer and bigger, definitely his.

"Sit down." He orders, pulling my wrist again and making me sit on one of the cushioned chairs.

I oblige without protest, too dazed to react in a snarky way. The silence in the room feels like hours when only being about ten minutes. It is finally cut off as Jude's phone starts ringing loudly.

I hear him speak for a few minutes before he hangs up. I watch him walk towards me as he sits in the chair next to me.

"No one was there, they checked the cameras as well. You left the door open."

I cringe, realizing my own initial mistake. A shudder runs through me as he explains.

"Oh, great!" I mumble sarcastically, feeling embarrassed, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress. Only now realizing I was barefoot, my heels probably fell out of my grasp when he pulled me out of the room.

I get up when he finishes explaining, walking up to the door. Pulling my soft cardigan closer to soothe myself.

"Where are you going?" I hear Jude ask. I turn and look back at him.

"Back to my room." I say, suddenly feeling the day's exhaustion take effect. My vision becoming blurry as I feel an ache make its way to my head.

This day alone probably took five years off my lifespan.

I hear him sigh as he walks up to me. Feeling him put his hand on my right shoulder.

"What?" I ask, looking him up and down. Trying to shrug his hand off of my shoulder.

I watch his jaw tense again, his grip on my shoulder getting tighter, though, not getting to the point of hurting.

I open my mouth to speak again, as he doesn't bother to answer my question. Unfortunately, I’m stopped by a sharp pain shooting through my head.

I groan in pain, placing my hands on my temples as I squeeze my eyes shut.

"What's wrong?" I hear him whisper, his other hand making its way to my left shoulder.

"I'm fine..." I dismiss, taking his hands off my shoulders. I reach for the door handle, pulling it down and stepping out of the room.

I tap my card against the sensor hurriedly and open my door, turning to see his door across the hallway already shut.

"Doesn't even care to watch me go inside." I mutter, ridding myself of my clothes and taking a much-needed shower. Trying to wash off all my stress and embarrassment.

When I'm done, I make a beeline to my bed, closing my eyes and forcing myself to sleep. I shift and turn, groaning in frustration as I turn my pillow around for the nth time.

It's like my sleep was robbed of me within minutes. My thoughts keeping me up. I check the time, realizing it was almost two in the morning.

I begin getting fully paranoid, my stupid brain making up the craziest scenarios imaginable.

I bury my face deeper into my pillow, forcing my brain to shut up. Finally, managing to fall asleep, too tired to keep my anxious walls up.

"You look like a truck ran you over."

"Shut up." I snarl replying to Jude. Trying to ignore him further as I continue eating my food, Luis sitting across from me at the breakfast buffet.

I had gotten maybe five hours of sleep. My three layers of concealer weren’t doing its job today. It had creased within minutes of application.

I roll my eyes as he sits at the table next to us, probably to annoy me further.

“Someone get this weirdo away from me..” I say loudly, closing my eyes in prayer.

I hear Jude scoff, following it up with a laugh.

"Were you born insufferable, or do you practice in the mirror before going to bed?" I ask, poking at my food.

I hear him chuckle again, which makes my blood boil even more. I glance at Luis, seeing a grin forming on his face.

"You too?"

I had told him everything that had happened last night, him feeling embarrassed but finding it hilarious at the same time.

He did promise he'd make it up to me.

"Don't forget how I dragged your ass from the dock to the hotel. I could've easily left you there."

I threaten, looking at Luis as I shove another spoonful of food in my mouth.

I see Jude open his mouth, but I stop him with a hand as my phone rings. My dad calling me right at the perfect moment.

"Oops, sorry, too busy for whatever you want to say."

I realize how immature I sound, but I digress. I get up and answer the call. Chatting to my dad about the past few days.

I signal for Luis to stop filming, patting his back to commend him for his hard work after the final whistle is blown. A nice 3-2 putting us on top of the table.

"They played really well."

I hum, posting the last social media post and turning to him.

"Right, if they keep playing like this, we'll definitely end up at the top of table C for sure."

"We'll go far. That's without question."

We make our way inside, trying to rush to get inside on time.

"Hugo is saying to interview both Frederico and Jude." I mutter, rereading the text message.

"That's fine, let's just wait here until they're ready." He says, both of us waiting in front of the changing room as they pile inside. Tired expressions on all of their faces.

"By the way, have you seen this one guy that's working here? He's so cute for you." I hear Luis say, looking up at him confused.

"Which one?" I ask, fidgeting with the cable of the camera.

"I'll show you when I see him." He says, and I give him a look.

"He better be cute, since you're making me wait."

"Alright, that's it." I announce, looking at Jude. Finally wrapping up his interview.

"Thank you." He mutters, with less attitude this time. Probably way too tired to have a petty fight with me. I wasn't disappointed with that, to be honest. I couldn't stand speaking to him anymore.

"See you on the bus, man." I hear Jude say, giving Luis a handshake as he begins walking away. My eyes follow him, piercing into his back.

"See, that's the guy I was talking about." I hear Luis say, my head snapping towards the direction he was looking at.

"Which one-" I begin, shamelessly looking at the guy.

"What? No, are you serious?" I ask, appalled by the person he’s shipping me with.

"Yeah, he's cute for you." He mutters, giving me a smirk.

"You might be hungover still. Let's just get into the bus, please."

We pack our equipment up, starting to walk towards the team buses. Successfully helping fellow staff with the multiple suitcases and bags and stepping up into the vehicle.

We greet the players we make eye contact with, the both of us walking along the occupied seats until we finally find two empty ones next to each other.

"I'm tired..." I mumble, leaning my back against the seat, closing my eyes as I get comfortable. Leaving my phone on my lap.

"I can see that." I hear Luis reply, and I open one of my eyes to give him an offended look.

"How sweet of you." I reply, trying to take a quick fifteen-minute nap. Running around for more than two hours with five hours of sleep was not for the weak.

I was part of the weak.

I hear the sound of a notification, surprised it could be heard through all of the chatter and banter of everyone in the bus.

"Was that your phone?" I ask, leaning my head against the window.

"No, it was yours." Luis answers.

"Can you read it for me? You know my password."

I feel my phone being removed from my lap, a second of silence from Luis before he starts laughing uncontrollably.

"What?" I ask, getting curious.

What could be that funny?

"It's a DM from a Chris on Instagram."

"Who the fuck is Chris?" I ask, finally opening my eyes to take my phone back. My eyes roaming around the screen, reading a short message with a 'view once’ photo.

"Thought you repped Valencia?"

I read the message out loud, looking back at Luis, confused. Then I look at the profile picture.

"Oh my god! It's the guys from the boat!" I shout, embarrassed when I realize I was being louder than necessary.

"The one you talked about?"

"Yeah- wait, what do you think the photo is?" I ask, starting to feel squirmy.

"A dick pic." I hear Luis whisper.

"Who got a dick pic?"

I hear someone ask, looking at the row behind me. Jude peeking his head in between our headrests.

"Not you, so mind your own business.." I reply, moving my phone out of his view and returning to my conversation with Luis. Ignoring the daggers he’s sending me with his piercing gaze.

"No way, gross. He looked desperate, but no way."

"Well, click on it."

"No, now I'm scared. Why would you even bring that up?"

"Just squint."

I huff, leaning back against the widow, squinting as I press on the photo.

"Oh-" I exclaim, taking a deep, relieved breath.

Thankfully, it’s not an explicit picture, but a photo of me at the stadium we were just at, prematch to be specific. From the angle, you could tell the photo was taken from the stands.

"Wait- what the fuck? He was there? Ew, why did he take a photo of me?” I say, showing Luis the screen.

I watch his mouth fall open. He reaches over, taking my phone from me and screenshots the photo.

"That's why he sent that message. You lied to him about yourself, right?"

"Of course I did!" I say, snatching the phone from his hand.

"What do I say?" I ask, looking at him with a questioning look.

"Do you even want to speak to him?"

"Well- I'm bored?" I give him a grin, his arm coming to push me.

“I can’t stop you, but you said he looked like trouble, so ignore him..." He advises, squeezing my arm.

I nod at his words, taking them in. I swipe to press the mute button on the chat, and turn my phone off.

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