Chapter Three

For a while, everything felt normal.

Elion and Jordan walked along the sidewalk on a warm summer night. The neon lights flashed, and they could hear the city buzzing as they talked.

The earlier game at The Cage? Just another match. A great match, sure—probably the best Elion had played in years—but nothing worth overthinking.

Still, he couldn't help the rush of excitement. After years of drowning in lectures, tutorials, and part-time shifts, he had finally gotten to play again.

For a moment, just a moment, life felt simple.

Then, of course, his brain decided to ruin it.

He remembered the white team's glares. The way Marcus and Malik had stared him down after the final whistle. Their huddle had looked way too intense for just a bunch of guys taking an 'L' in street soccer.

They'd get over it.

…Right?

Elion let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the unease creeping into his gut. He had just gone there to play. No drama. No grudges. Just soccer.

Surely, they wouldn't hold a grudge over one game.

Surely.

Pushing those thoughts aside, they slipped into familiar conversation—their high school days. They talked about everything.

Then, about soccer.

Back then, they weren't just teammates. They were the Deadly Duo.

Sounds cringe, right? But that was during school days, so it was a pretty normal title.

Elion and Jordan had carried West Ridge High School on their backs, steamrolling their way through the city tournament and even making it to the National High School Championship as representatives of the state.

Every sports page made them sound like the ultimate duo destined for greatness. Well, not actual newspapers—let's be real, no high schooler reads those. But on social media? Oh yeah. The hype was everywhere.

But then?

Life happened.

Elion went the academic route, getting into Stanford University, one of the top universities in the country.

Jordan? He took a step back, choosing to explore life before jumping into college—that he never attended. They even lost contact for about a year and a half after that.

Elion always respected that decision. Even admired it. Jordan did things his way, without pressure, without a set path.

Meanwhile, Elion had taken the "practical" road—scholarships, grades, and responsibility.

Still, sometimes, he wondered what Jordan hoped to find or had discovered with all that freedom.

Their conversation then turned to summer plans as they walked past the bright storefronts on the street.

"What's the plan this summer?" Jordan asked, putting his hands in his pockets. "Besides working your tail off, that is."

Elion chuckled, though it lacked real amusement. "Not much, really. Just trying to save up some money, help at home, and maybe, if I'm lucky, get a little break a few days before the break ends."

Jordan gave him a sideways look like Elion had just told him he enjoyed eating plain bread and calling it a meal.

"Dude, you're twenty," Jordan said. "You should be out having fun, not working and studying all the time."

He looked at Elion for a moment before asking, "How about we hit the beach next weekend? Grab drinks, hang out, enjoy life?"

"Beach?" Elion wanted to say yes. He really did. But reality had other ideas. "Well... Those are nice, but how I wish I could," Elion said with a sigh. "I need to help with this month's rent. My mom's been worrying about the money and my little brother..."

"Liam? Let me guess—he got into another fight?"

Elion sighed and nodded.

Jordan ran a hand down his face like he was personally exhausted by Liam's life choices. "That brat… Look, I get it. Family first, always. But you need a break, too. If you want, I can have a little chat with him. You know, hit him with the classic Jordan Walker Slow Talk Special—works every time."

Elion almost laughed. Almost. Jordan had this unique ability of being able to cut through excuses like a hot knife through butter.

But taking it easy? Yeah, that wasn't even considered.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a small grocery store. It was on the corner of the block. The store looked modest, and the sign had seen better days. But everyone in the neighborhood knew it was the only place that offered the cheapest essentials. 

Nobody quite understood how the owner managed to keep prices so low—maybe he cared more about helping the community than making a profit.

Elion pushed open the door. That was when the overhead bell let out a very weak jingle. Well, the sound resonated with how tired his body was.

"Welcome," the cashier said. He was barely glancing up from his phone.

Everyone could see how he looked so bored out of his mind that even scrolling seemed to have lost its appeal.

Elion and Jordan nodded to the cashier before splitting up—Elion went straight for the essentials while Jordan wandered off, probably looking for something unnecessary.

Elion picked up a basket by the register and started to gather his usual items: milk, bread, eggs, and a few cans of food. He chose everything carefully—nothing too expensive, nothing extra, just enough to last the week.

Jordan walked down the aisle, randomly picking up items and putting them back. He repeated that a few times.

Then, as if he had found something interesting, he quickly picked up a pack of sour candies and threw it into Elion's basket. "Three-pointer!"

Elion raised an eyebrow before smiling. "Candy? Seriously?"

Jordan grinned, the definition of unapologetic. "Hey, man, it's called balance. Life needs some sweetness."

"But this one is sour." Elion shook his head, but he still kept the candy.

They walked up to the counter, not realizing that the night was far from over. Just so you know, things were about to get complicated.

Elion paid the cashier for his groceries and nodded politely. Jordan wanted to pay for his candies, but Elion signaled for him not to.

"It was only a dollar," Elion said. He grabbed his bag, took out the candies, and tossed them to Jordan.

"Thanks, Elion," Jordan said with a grin.

They then made their way out. The air outside had grown cooler. Somehow, Elion felt like this was what he needed. It was becoming more peaceful, too.

"It's peaceful tonight," Elion said.

"Yeah. Like the calm before the storm," Jordan replied.

Elion stopped for a moment. He closed his eyes just to enjoy the peace of the quiet street.

"Dude, you seem in dire need of rest," Jordan teased.

Elion replied with a smile. Everything that Jordan said was true.

As they continued down the road and stopped at the corner where they would go their separate ways, Jordan patted him on the shoulder and smiled his usual friendly smile.

"Anyway, think about the beach. You could really use a break, man."

Elion smiled a little. "Sure. No promise, but I will think about it."

"Cool. Just ring me up," Jordan said with a smile. "See you later, buddy."

Jordan had barely lifted his foot to start his usual light jog home when the air around them shifted.

It started with a shadow moving in his path.

Then another.

And another.

Elion's instincts screamed at him a second too late. By the time his brain caught up, the sidewalk was no longer just theirs. A group of guys appeared from the side streets like cockroaches in a scary movie. They approached with the skill of a planned ambush.

His stomach dropped.

The white team.

Marcus and Malik stood at the front with expressions that showed nothing—until Marcus chuckled slowly and amusedly. This laugh made Elion feel a tingle of warning down his spine.

"Now, now," Marcus said, shaking his head as if they were misbehaving kids. "Did you really think you could just walk away after what we lost?"

Jordan tensed beside him. Elion didn't even need to look to know that his best friend was sizing up the situation, already deciding whether they could run or if they'd have to fight their way out.

Spoiler alert: It wasn't looking good for option one.

Elion gulped. This sounded bad.

Jordan, on the other hand, smirked. "What, you can't handle losing? I thought we were just playing soccer."

Elion snapped his head toward him, stunned. Dude, are you seriously talking back?

He had never seen Jordan act like this. Back in school, Jordan had always been the calm one, the guy who let his skills do the talking. He had the build of an athlete, sure, but he had never been the type to start—or escalate—a fight. So why did he look so confident now?

Elion did not want to take risks. Not here. Not now. He raised his hands, trying to de-escalate the situation.

"Wait a minute. Let's just talk this out. How much did you guys lose?"

Marcus narrowed his eyes, then lifted a hand—five fingers up.

Elion's brain immediately did the math. Five hundred?

If that was all, then fine. He could cover that. Money could be earned back. But if he ended up in the hospital tonight, that would be a much bigger problem. His parents would panic, he wouldn't be able to work, and he'd be in even worse shape than before.

Elion exhaled slowly, like a man about to make a really bad investment. "Alright. Fine. I'll cover your loss. Five hundred, right?"

He pulled out his phone, already opening his banking app. "Just give me your transfer code, and let's call it a night."

Because, honestly? Five hundred bucks was a lot, but it was still cheaper than a hospital bill.

But nobody responded. Everyone looked at him like he was a fool.

Then—laughter.

Loud. Amused. Mocking.

Malik shook his head; his grin was full of pure disbelief. "Who the hell bets everything on just five hundred bucks?"

Elion's fingers froze over the screen. He glanced up. "Then… how much exactly?"

Jordan let out a sharp exhale and shot Elion a look. "Don't entertain these guys." Then he turned back to Marcus. "Who asked you to bet five thousand?"

Five thousand?

Elion's stomach flipped. He stared at Jordan first, then at the group, trying to process what he had just heard. "Wait, wait—five grand? On a street soccer match?"

"Yeah, they're fools for doing that," Jordan said with a chuckle.

"Shut your mouth!" Malik clenched his fists, his body tensing up. He stepped forward, ready to swing, but Marcus raised a hand, stopping him.

Marcus's jaw tightened. "We're not stupid. We've beaten Raymond and his team over and over. That's why we bet big. We never thought two nobodies would show up and ruin everything."

Elion could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. This wasn't just a post-game grudge. This was serious. And he believed they weren't getting out of here without a fight.

Elion stumbled backward, nearly dropping his groceries as he and Jordan were pushed into an alley. A dark and quiet alley.

Great. Just great.

The city lights went away, leaving them in the dark and quiet. They were in a narrow alley with old brick walls, far from anyone who could see them—from witnesses.

"Any plan, Jordan?" Elion asked. He felt his heart racing. This wasn't just about getting intimidated anymore. They were being cornered.

Jordan seemed strangely calm, as if they were just waiting for a bus instead of dealing with a group of guys who were angry about five thousand dollars.

Elion's brain went into overdrive, desperately flipping through his mental survival guide for How to Get Out of a Street Fight Without Becoming a Headline.

Step one: Talk his way out.

Except… that only worked if the other side had ears instead of rage-induced tunnel vision. Judging by the way Malik was cracking his knuckles like a villain in a bad action movie, diplomacy was already off the table.

Step two: Run.

Nope. Too many of them, too little space, and honestly? He wasn't sure if Jordan would let him run. That guy thrived on bad decisions.

Step three: Fight.

Also a bad idea. Elion could handle himself, but these guys weren't here for a friendly spar. If things escalated, someone was walking away with a broken nose—or worse.

And to top it all off? He was still holding the groceries.

Because, of course, he was.

Man, he really needed to survive this. And not just for the sake of his bones—he really didn't want to go home and explain to his mom why they suddenly had scrambled eggs in a plastic bag.

Which left him with exactly one option.

He turned to Jordan.

His best friend. His ride-or-die. The guy who had a habit of making everything worse before making it better.

So yeah. Elion braced himself. Whatever happened next? It was definitely going to be Jordan's fault.