Justyna

“Kevin's expression was indecipherable. Whatever it was, it didn't look particularly happy.
"This is going to be a very long season."
"I told you I wasn't ready."
"You also said you wouldn't play with me, but here you are. [...] If you won't play with me, you'll play for me," Kevin said. "You're never going to get there on your own, so give your game to me."
"Where is there?" Neil asked.
[...] Kevin reached up and covered Neil's eyes with his free hand.
"Forget the stadium," Kevin said. "Forget the Foxes and your useless high school team and your family. See it the only way it really matters, where Exy is the only road to take. What do you see?"
[...] That thought was sombering, as it put him right back to square one and the fact that Neil Josten was a fleeting existence. It was cruel to even dream he could stay like this, but Kevin had escaped, hadn't he? Somehow he'd left that bloody room behind at Edgar Allan and become this, and Neil wanted the same so bad he could taste it.
"You," Neil said at last.
[...] "Tell me I can have your game."
[...] "Take it."
"Neil understands," Kevin said, dropping his hand and sending Andrew a pointed look.
"Congratulations are in order, I suppose! Since I have non to give, I will tell the others to respond appropriately." Andrew pushed himself to his feet and swallowed more whiskey on the way up. "[...] As it is, I might puke from all the fanaticism going around.”
― Nora Sakavic, The Foxhole Court