Chapter Text
Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.
George R. R. Martin
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╰┈➤ LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
When Gideon was five, he woke up to find his mother packing a large duffel bag. It was the middle of the night, black and silent, with nothing to shield him from the confusion. He didn't dare make a peep, not wanting to wake his baby sister, Laura, who was huddling next to him on the couch under a fluffy blanket that smelt like lavender breeze. He watched as his Mom neatly folded her clothes and padded back and forth between her bedroom and the kitchen counter. There was only one bag and Gideon didn't see any of his or Laura's smaller clothing make an appearance. Dread grew in the pit of his stomach, preparing him for what was about to come next. It wasn't the first time she'd up and left, but this felt different. There was a finality in her movements, a light note to her step.
Later, Gideon would surmise that it was like the weight of the world was no longer resting on her shoulders - and they were the load someone had forced her to carry.
Morning came, bringing rays of sunshine with it, yet he felt uncertain. Breakfast was unusually elaborate. Mom made strawberry milkshakes and banana pancakes, taking the time to cut them into pieces which she only did when she was sorry about something. She would disappear for days and come back with pancakes. There was something different about today, though. Mom smiled at him and ruffled his hair, cooing at Laura with a gentleness he'd never seen before. Fear spun in his stomach, and he didn't know it then, but it would be another twenty-five years before he fully processed the events of the day.
He started off with a family, his mother, and sister in their tiny apartment - and ended the day with nothing.
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Growing up in the foster care system came with a level of invisibility that had its benefits and disadvantages. On any day, he could be who he wanted. Nobody was around to tell him his dreams were unrealistic. Over the course of thirteen years, he let them flourish. They were all he had, especially after they separated him from Laura. That was the downside. Being a cog in a wheel meant he had no agency over his life, and when they took her away, he was powerless to stop them. No amount of begging and pleading worked, it's like he was a sheet of glass and everyone could look through him. Laura wrote him a letter not long after they moved her to another home, rambling about Barbie and banana pancakes. She didn't understand why they'd taken her away. Did she do something wrong? When was he coming to get her?
His replies came in fits and starts, unfinished because he didn't have the answers. He had no power in this world, no way to bring her back to him. Huddled alone in a corner with his scrap of paper and leaking pen, Gideon realised he had to let her go. Maybe he'd make it out of this place, make something of himself. Create a world where he could do whatever he wanted. And then he'd get her back, and they'd be a family again.
In a world full of uncertainty, dreams were all he had. Losing her was hard, and he lost himself.
He lost Gideon.
His foster parents Leo and Carla thought they were tough as nails. Their idea of nurturing was sticks, stones, and words and their cruel jibe about him being 'zero' stuck. And it's not like they were wrong. What did you call someone who had nothing?
Zero.
And that's who he became.
After a while, it didn't bother him. He owned the name. Leo and Carla went back to ignoring him once they saw he was unfazed, bogged down by a life that forced him to grow up too soon. He'd be gone for days at a time and they'd never notice. The social workers never came around, so it's not like there was any need to pretend. The only thing that kept him going was the desire to make something of himself.
To pick himself up and drag himself out of a bleak, joyless existence and show the world that it was wrong to count him out.
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Living in a cramped foster home with eight other kids didn't cultivate any expression in Zero - or any of them, really. Each day blended into the other, and they were lucky if they would receive one square meal, let alone clean clothes and somewhere comfortable to sleep. They slept on a cramped floor in the living room in sleeping bags, using rolled-up old sweaters as pillows. The bathroom was a pokey little room, with a showerhead that spit out a trickle of lukewarm water if they were lucky. A thick layer of dust covered everything else in the house, and the soundtrack of their sniffles echoed off the crumbling walls.
The only time the broken-down house was whole was when Child Protection Services came to visit; a perfunctory, performative activity that never changed the hell they were living in. Going to school wasn't a necessity, and it took an intervention from his case worker before Leo and Carla kept on top of his enrollment. While the older kids had long given up on getting an education, Zero enjoyed having somewhere to go. Sure, school sucked. However, it was better than watching Leo smoke and drink beer all day long while Carla slaved away at the local diner until she returned, bringing an aroma of grease and burnt bacon with her.
Like with everything in his brief life, settling in at school was difficult. The teachers danced around him at first, and the other students behaved like he was a leper. That kid whose parents didn't want him. Damaged goods. Zero kept to himself, burying himself in his homework. Apparently, the solution to him being behind was to give him a ton of work and hope he sped through it. It took him a while to figure out some of it, especially the math, but it turned out that hiding away in the library came with more benefits than one. He read every book he could get his hands on, using an old ticket stub to mark his spot for the next day until Mrs. Jameson, the old librarian who never seemed to move from behind the counter, handed him a shiny, brand-new checkout card - and it became the first thing that was truly his.
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Basketball fell into Zero's lap by chance.
Things like extracurricular activities did not apply to kids like him. For one, there was no one to pick him up and take him to any games or events. There was no money for uniforms or supplies. And last, none of the other kids liked him all that much. So, apart from the library, he had little going on. None of the foster kids did. The younger ones returned home and made their own fun there (depending on what mood Leo was in). Zero gravitated towards the older kids, following them to an old street basketball court five blocks away from the home.
The fast-paced game captivated Zero right away, and he found himself at the court regularly, sitting on top of his jacket soaking in the summer atmosphere. On this day, someone was blasting ‘We Right Here’ by DMX as the heat rained down on them, and the older boys tripped over each other during a scrappy pick-up game. At first, he merely watched, cataloguing the strengths and weaknesses of each player. He wrote them down meticulously, studying the scrap of paper until he knew the words by heart. He didn't even know the technical terms yet, he just came up with his own system and applied it to the players in front of him.
It didn't come in handy until they were hassling this smaller kid, Cody. Cody was from another home and Zero had seen him around. Kids like them tended to flock to the same places. Cody was a small ball of energy, always trying to fit in and make friends. Zero never had the heart to tell him it was futile. He did, however, keep a watchful eye, and on this day, the big kid, Trevor, wasn't letting up. The court had garnered a reputation for being overrun with troubled kids, but most of the younger ones were just like Zero. Chewed up and spat out by people who didn't want them.
"Hey," Zero called out when Trevor grabbed Cody by his shirt collar and hoisted him off the ground. "Leave him alone."
Trevor laughed, spraying spittle everywhere. "Or what, loser?"
"Or I'll kick your ass." Zero's eyes strayed to the basket, and an idea sprang to mind. He'd only ever seen it in movies and on TV, but if it saved Cody from going home with a black eye, it was worth a shot. "How about a game? Two-on-one. If I win, you back off."
Trevor's play was clumsy, Zero had noted. He relied on his height and size to push people off the ball, meaning that speed would throw him off his game.
"And if you lose?" Trevor asked, one eyebrow cocked like he thought Zero was committing the worst form of social suicide.
Zero smirked, unnerved by the underlying threat in those words. "I'll let you throw the first punch."
Trevor mulled it over, and sensing he had nothing to lose, he let Cody go. Cody looked at Zero with wide eyes, a silent 'thanks for saving my ass'. Zero jerked his head to the side, and Cody booked it out of there, running so hard they could hear his worn-out sneakers hitting the concrete.
"What's your name, anyway?" Trevor asked when Zero was shrugging off his threadbare hoodie and getting warmed up. "I've never seen you play before."
It was more likely that Trevor had never seen him before, period. It's not like there was anything memorable about him. He was just like every other kid on this court. Disposable and invisible until he wasn't.
"I'm Zero."
Trevor raised an eyebrow. "Like how Madonna is Madonna?"
"Something like that." Zero grabbed the ball and bounced it, looking around for the second player. Trevor chose the second tallest kid and Zero laughed to himself. What followed next was twenty minutes of pure adrenaline and pandemonium. As he'd predicted, both Trevor and his friend, Brent, relied on their height and size. Zero countered that with quick runs, and caught them off guard, eventually winning the game six baskets to two. Trevor gave him a nod of recognition once it was over, knocking a meaty fist against Zero's smaller one before he left the court.
The rest of the kids surrounded him, their excited voices blending into one loud hum. That was the start of it - something to look forward to, some sense of community. Everybody wanted to talk to him, play with him and take lessons from him so they could beat their friends. He hit the library again, taking out all the basketball-related books he could find and meticulously writing notes in the small exercise book he reserved for non-school information. After school, he'd go back to the court and play until he couldn't move, coach the others until the night sky was staring down at them and it was time to go home.
And just like that, he found something he was good at.
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After a so-so time in junior high, Zero took high school by storm. He joined the basketball team, hooked up with a cheerleader (or two), and counted down the seconds until he turned eighteen. Leo and Carla barely acknowledged him these days, much less spoke about what he'd do after he graduated. He was only as good as the check they got in the mail, and soon he'd be worth nothing to them - figuratively and literally. He'd thought about it, his plans, and what he'd do once he was free. Get a better job, and an apartment, and save up. There weren't many prospects for a kid like him, and unlike some bozos in his orbit, he was well aware of it.
Kids like him didn't get a fairytale ending. They ended up kicked to the corner, the hallmark of a broken system and a world bursting at the seams. He would always be an integer, lost in a sea of numbers. Floating around until he drifted ashore. Finding Laura was a distant dream, something he thought about all the time but doubted he'd ever pull off. Leo and Carla were unhelpful, and they wouldn't even give him the letter she'd sent all those years ago. He had no address, no phone number. It was just him, alone and with few prospects.
At least until his basketball coach, Mr. Garfield, called him into his office. The coach was a good guy, always helpful and giving Zero pointers about his game. The man held the notion that Zero was going to set the world alight. Zero wasn't naïve enough to believe him.
"Have you thought about college, Gideon?" Coach Garfield asked. "I noticed you didn't ask me to be your referee on your applications."
Zero squirmed in the hard chair. "That's cuz I didn't apply, Coach. I can't afford college. And I'm not sure I want to go."
Another four years of studying and exams, just to end up right back where he started? Zero wasn't sure it was worth it. He didn't have a rich father with connections or a mother who knew someone else's mother. He didn't even have a friend he could rely on.
Make no mistake, Zero hadn't been sitting on his ass for the past few years. He'd been busting his balls, working every county fair, and the concessions stand at the movies, and now, he was the assistant manager at some Chuck-E-Cheese knockoff. None of that earned him enough for community college, let alone one of the big universities.
"Look, you're talented, kid," Coach Garfield said. "And not only that, you have the brains. You see plays I don't and your ability to study the opposition's game is unlike anything I've seen. You need to be playing."
"I would if I could," Zero said. Despite his nonchalance, sometimes, basketball was the only thing that kept him afloat.
Coach Garfield reached into his drawer and pulled out a white envelope. "I've had this job for fifteen years and I've only ever done this once before. My brother-in-law is a faculty head over at Ohio State. I got him to send a scout to watch you a few times and… they're willing to offer you a scholarship. You should seriously consider it."
Just like that, Zero's life changed forever.
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╰┈➤ COLUMBUS, OHIO
Without a parental figure to consult, Zero weighed up his options and took Coach Garfield up on his offer. He spent the rest of the school year making sure he kept his grades up, meaning he couldn't work as much as he wanted, but luckily, the scholarship came with a stipend and the university would cover his accommodation costs. So he packed up his meagre belongings from the foster home, booked a flight to Ohio, and embarked on the next stage of his life.
While he had low hopes, college ended up being like high school, except it was ten times worse. From rambling lectures about finding himself to the revolving door of students, Zero wore his game face. He was the party boy. The player whose name was on everyone's lips. The guy who circled around the cliques and was too afraid of not fitting in to see if they'd give him a chance.
Playing college ball was difficult compared to high school. Garfield had warned him how gruelling it was. Still, Zero was on his own here. Keeping up with his classes was just about doable, although travelling in and out of state for the NCAA games could be draining. He couldn't call anyone and vent about his day. He couldn't tell anyone that he was inching closer and closer to burnout before he ended up injured.
Everything in his life was surface. Underneath it all, he was still Gideon, that scared little boy who watched his Mom pack up her life like he didn't matter. Like he was trash to be left on the corner, idle until someone picked it up and placed it elsewhere for the cycle to continue. Nobody knew that he cried himself to sleep at least once per week.
He was Zero, the basketball ace and all-around party boy.
Who cared if it wasn't the real him?
Playing college basketball was an automatic cool card and if he thought high school was all popularity offered, it amped up further during his time playing for Ohio State. From random high-fives to having girls chase him, Zero was in demand.
That usually meant he was never short of party invitations. At first, it was amazing. Tequila shots and hazy nights, singing at the top of his lungs and laughing so hard his stomach hurt. The faces never stayed the same, but he didn't care. He was having fun. Life was a blast. He was successful and doing well in his classes. He didn't have any problems with his dorm. Every time he had a poor game, he'd follow it with three great ones.
He was living the life until he wasn't.
House music was pumping through the stereo at whoever's house it was. Some stupid fraternity or something (and he was grateful being on the team meant he didn't have time to pledge). A rush of people were surrounding him. The sweaty group on the makeshift dance floor. The nerdy clique who were all but manning the beer in case someone dared them to do a keg stand. Sorority girls who always seemed to giggle about something. The regular students who had slotted themselves into this slice of college life happy to be background players in future memories.
He tried to put a name to a face just as someone passed by and slapped him on the back. "Great game last week, Zero!"
"Thanks, man," he replied automatically. He didn't know that person either. He didn't know any of these people. And…it was like being doused with ice-cold water. There were people around him, but he was like a caterpillar cocooned in a shell. No longer feeling in the party mood, he slipped out of the house. He waited around on the front porch area, wondering if anyone would call him back. If anyone would miss him.
Nobody came to get him, and he took the long way back to his dorm building.
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It was coming to the end of Christmas break when Zero went to the campus juice bar to pick up a smoothie. Most people had gone home to be with their families. He didn't have that option, and he didn't have the heart to impose on Coach Garfield who had extended an invitation for him to join his family. Instead, he hung out in his room and binge-watched old episodes of Law and Order. Between working out and completing papers, he'd discovered the juice bar and made a pit stop every day. Not necessarily for the juice, but for the girl serving it. At first, he stuck around because he was lonely, and it was nice to see the same friendly face every day. And then she started flirting with him, and he reciprocated.
Krista was a nice enough girl. And she was smoking hot. Unlike some girls he'd dated, she wasn't looking for anything serious. Not that Zero cared. Their 'relationship' didn't make it past the staff area of the juice bar. It ended when the captain of the football team stopped him one morning and punched him in the face for daring to 'mess with his girl'. It made him a hero to the basketball team, and Krista seemed embarrassed (just not enough based on how quickly she got back with her boyfriend). The stories spun out of control and suddenly, he was this lothario who was hitting everything that moved. He didn't dissuade them. It was easier and saved him the headache of having to date anyone.
No one ever asked him, but he didn't think he could. His roommate was loved up and from watching him, Zero thought it required a lot of patience and grace - two qualities he lacked. And there was the whole love thing. It's not like Leo and Carla ever taught him how to love. How to hate, sure. Love was uncharted territory and Zero was permanently stuck in shark-infested waters. There was always something lurking in the shadows, always another demon he had to battle. From feeling like he wasn't good enough to be on the team to wondering if he even deserved this when his sister was out there somewhere.
He doubted he had anything to offer anyone, anyway.
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The team's head coach, Coach Bradley, called Zero into his office one evening, much like Garfield had done three years ago. There were rumours about scouts coming to the games, but Zero didn't pay them any mind. Everybody wanted to be the next LeBron, without appreciating how complex that situation was. Generational talent didn't come around twice - none of them had a patch on LeBron. And not to be a downer, but this wasn't a team of future NBA starters. Zero had quelled that notion during his sophomore year when the team went on a spectacular losing streak. The talented players had aged out and what they left was a bunch of misfits. Some had genuine talent, and some players seemed to have lucked their way onto the team. Not that Zero was in any position to judge. He, too, was here because someone gave him a helping hand.
And just when he thought it was nothing but a pipe dream, Coach Bradley told him two NBA scouts were coming to watch him.
"Me?" Zero said. "What about the other guys?"
"Kid, we both know you're the most talented player on the team. Garfield was right about you. You're a natural with the ball, sure, but your movement when you don't have the ball? It's second to none. And your reading of the game? It's impressive."
"If I recall, you made me run ten laps around the court when I tweaked one play."
"Look, Zero, there is no 'i' in team, and there sure as hell ain't one in basketball. Yes, you're talented, but you can't win games on your own. If you want to change something, it has to be done with the team. The second you buy your own hype is the moment you lose sight of what matters."
"Yes, sir," Zero said. "I appreciate that."
"You better appreciate this opportunity! These guys stand between you changing the rest of your life forever or working behind a desk until you're seventy years old."
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Zero was eating breakfast when the call came through. It was an unknown number with a 213 area code and that is the only reason he picked up. Some part of him thought it was Laura, or…maybe his mother. Someone who was a part of him.
Instead, Leo's slurred tone came down the line. "Zero? That you?"
"What do you want, Leo?" Zero asked despite himself. It was a testament to how homesick he had become. Hearing his piece of shit foster father's voice and not immediately hanging up.
"Look, the kids here…they're hungry, tired…we just need some money until the next set of checks come through."
His blood ran cold, causing him to shiver involuntarily. The fucking nerve of it. Leo, who didn't so much as say goodbye when he left that forsaken house, wanted money from him? The irony would be hilarious if it wasn't like a knife tearing through him. He'd only ever been a dollar sign to Leo and Carla and no amount of personal development and success would change that.
"Why would I give you money?" Zero said. "What have you ever done for me?"
"I put a roof over your head, didn't I? You made it to eighteen in one piece. Can your biological parents say that?"
It was a low blow, but…from what Zero was hearing, they had almost guaranteed him a place in the NBA draft and soon Leo would be history. He didn't need to take any more crap from him.
"How much do you want?"
"Five hundred bucks. I'll text you my checking account details."
"Fine." Zero hung up, waiting patiently for the text to come through. Grabbing a scrap of paper, he scribbled down the details and then he opened his phone and pried the SIM card out. Snapping it in two, he tossed it in the kitchen bin.
Later that day, he went to the store to get a new number and transferred the money to Leo. It was pretty much all he had left in his checking account, but Zero didn't care.
He was free.
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╰┈➤ CLEVELAND, OHIO
What no one knew about being drafted into the NBA is that it was a lot like the foster care system. Hoping that someone out there liked the look of him enough to sign the dotted line and being disappointed when it didn't happen. For Zero, being passed up by the Los Angeles Devils stung. They were the best team in the world and he was good.
Just not good enough for them.
Luckily, Cleveland came calling, and they pushed him into a whirlwind of activity, posing for pictures and giving interviews left, right, and center. From a dimly lit court in L.A. to lights, camera, and action, he put Gideon to rest and Zero was reborn.
The name was a hot topic, and his team advised him to stick to 'Zero'. Apparently, it came with branding potential. Zero had a freshly minted economics degree that told him otherwise. He was now a commodity and money was to be made, brand potential or not. Once a player made it into the big leagues, he was only as good as his financial worth. Be that how well he converted points on the court, to how well he attracted good publicity off it.
Being knee-deep in the Bible belt, Zero picked the easiest option and within a few weeks, he'd established his new character.
"Zero, tough game tonight! Is there anything you'd like to say to the fans? It hasn't been easy since you first stepped onto the court in a Cleveland jersey. What's your reaction to the criticism?"
Zero pointed upwards, extending his index finger, so it was at shoulder level. "God is my strength and defense. I have no doubts that I will prosper."
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Even with the Christian angle, Zero's new teammates were sceptical. It didn't help that his team was marketing and selling him as this genius basketball brain. The first thing the coach did was remind him it was the big leagues, and he expected Zero to fall in line. And Zero tried, he really did, but the first time the coach played him out of position, it went horribly. It was only a preseason game, yet, Zero had become accustomed to winning. This was no longer about playing for fun, the aim was to blow the competition out of the water. He couldn't do that when he didn't know whether he was coming or going.
"So, is the whole God thing for real, man?" one of his teammates asked him after practice one day. "My wife's been bugging me to ask you to come to our church."
The chapel at Ohio State was one thing, but an honest-to-God church where the congregation wasn't just a bunch of college kids? Zero wasn't sure he wouldn't burst into flames. Still, what was he going to do? Say no and end up a pariah for the next two years of his career?
He turned up to the Sunday services and sang along to hymns, giving tithe and letting the wives fawn over him. Half of them flirted unabashedly while the rest kept threatening to find him a nice girlfriend. At one point he even dated a churchgoer before respectfully informing her he wasn't on board with her 'getting married within six months' chain of prayer. In the end, he found a happy medium. They got some kind of enjoyment from listening to him read the verse of the week at the pulpit and he slowly earned the respect of his teammates.
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If Zero could do it all again, faux Christian is not the persona he would have chosen. It limited his endorsement deals and despite his agent's best attempts it was six months before a clothing apparel company came calling. He turned up for the shoot looking forward to a good time, but after half a day of being prodded and sprayed with more beauty products than he'd seen in his life, he was over it. All he wanted to do was bum a cigarette and do something reckless, a feeling he'd grown out of back in high school. Nervous energy poured off him in hot, rolling waves and he was on the verge of bursting when they finally let him go.
"You look like you could use a drink."
Zero looked up from where he'd been leaning on the wall behind the warehouse where the photoshoot had taken place. It was one of the make-up artists. Her name was escaping him, but he flashed her a grin.
"Thanks, but I don't really drink much. I'm trying to stay on God's good side."
"I grew up in the church, honey. I know all about it. And let's just say my congregation drank more liquor than water."
"I'm sorry, I don't think you told me your name."
"It's Shona."
The light glinted off the purple streak in her chestnut-coloured hair, and he was struck by her attractiveness. It was different from the usual fare he went for, but intriguing nonetheless.
"What is that, Irish?" Zero asked when she caught him staring at her.
"Who knows?" Shona said. "Anyway, it was nice talking to you, Zero."
"Wait," Zero said when she moved off. "I think I'll take that drink after all."
Shona lowered her eyes, biting into the flesh of her bottom lip. "What's your poison, cowboy?"
"I'll have whatever you're having."
Five hours later, Zero woke up with a raging headache and his pants around his ankles with Shona passed out next to him. From the looks of things, they were in one of those low-budget seedy motels and he prayed no one had seen him here.
"You know, for a man of God, you're kind of wild," Shona mumbled after he'd gotten up and pulled up his pants. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."
"There's nothing to tell." Zero pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. "We're all sinners, right?"
"Mmmm," Shona stared at him for a touch too long. "Right."
Little did he know their tryst would prove to be an expensive lesson when Shona produced pictures of their night together and threatened to sell them to the highest bidder if he didn't give her twenty thousand dollars.
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After his mishap with Shona, Zero learned how to keep a low profile. Regular people with regular, mundane lives were off limits. Hanging out with groupies was frowned upon, but someone could usually deploy an airtight nondisclosure agreement. And ironically, there were plenty of women at the church ready to risk it all for one night with him, not that Zero ever went along with it. He might be reckless, but even his stupidity had limits.
Still, having a fan club at the church meant it wasn't difficult finding someone to come with him on the family day during his second season playing for Cleveland Athletic. Family day was the team's answer to…well, he wasn't sure what the benefit was. They'd be raising money for charity and playing games and prizes. Johnson brought his wife and twin daughters along with him, not caring that they'd all caught him with his head buried in a stripper's chest last week. Murphy? How the man could walk around with his wife and keep a straight face was beyond him.
Not that he was in any position to judge. His date Carla was a sweet woman, tall with a close-cropped haircut and shaped like a runway model. He'd asked her to accompany him because she didn't seem eager. That meant she wanted nothing from him and after two years of being pursued and doing his fair share of chasing, Zero was tired. Cheap, meaningless sex barely took the edge off these days. He even had a thing going with the pastor's daughter and he was feeling weirdly guilty about it.
"Hey, Zero!" Johnson was there suddenly, thrusting a camera into his hand. "Take a picture of us would ya!"
Even though it was all smoke and mirrors, watching Johnson cuddle up to his wife and daughters sent a cold tingle down his spine. It was chilling, almost, yet fiery at the same time. Some part of him was jealous. He was jealous of all the players who had family and friends here while he strolled around with a woman that was barely into him.
"Are you okay?" Carla asked when Johnson and his family wandered off.
"Yeah, just a little tired. I think all of this excitement is getting to me."
"How about a tour of the arena?" Carla leaned over and ran her fingers over his forearm, slow and deliberate. "I've always wanted to know what the locker room looked like."
And there it was.
Not that Zero would not give her the tour of her life, it's just that…coming up with this persona was supposed to protect him. It was supposed to make him look good.
Instead, it just seemed like everyone else was in on the joke.
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"How are things with Carla?" Bethany, the pastor's daughter, asked him after the Sunday Service. "I didn't see her today."
"Would you believe she never returned my calls after family day?" Zero scoffed. "I gave her a tour of the arena and that was it. I guess she got what she came for."
"In more ways than one." Bethany wrinkled her nose. "For your sake, I hope you use protection. The last thing we need is another STD outbreak."
"Another one?"
"Did you not do a web search before you picked a church?" Bethany asked. "We put the 'c' in controversy. My dad's been trying to transfer to a new ministry for months now."
"Wow…he always seems so positive and happy. It’s kind of creepy in a way."
It was the one thing tolerable about coming here on Sundays, the nuggets of wisdom Pastor Wilkinson shared on the altar. It turns out he was just like everyone else, trapped in a life he was desperate to escape from.
"Everyone pretends, babe, you should know. And as gorgeous as you are - this act is going to crumble, eventually."
"So, what, I should renounce my faith?"
"No. I'm saying that you should go after what you want, Zero. Stop pretending to be this character and be true to yourself. You never know where it might take you."
"Where were you with this sage advice two years ago?"
"Oh, honey, you've been dipping your pen in the ink much longer than that. And no matter how hard you try, it's never going to make you feel better. I learned that the hard way."
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The faux-Christian persona wore thin during his third year with Cleveland. He had a couple of friends on the team, but he was longing to be back in Los Angeles. Call it homesickness, or fatigue, he just wanted to get the fuck out. So far, he had received offers from Boston, New York, and Houston. Houston was his second choice, mostly because he knew how to play the system now. Shoot hoops, trot out some verses, end up with a sweet highlight reel on ESPN and they left him alone.
Being left alone sucked, though. He was the best player on the team, and they had reduced him to a novelty act. He didn't have the star factor that would propel him to new heights. Not in Ohio, anyway. His Jesus-loves-me routine was perfect for Los Angeles - he'd be the kooky new guy, the one who dared to be different. And he wouldn't have to hide his indiscretions as much. The squeaky-clean act didn't hamper his ability to get laid, but eventually, people would catch on. And much to his agent's chagrin, he wasn't about to settle down, get married and pop out some babies.
"I need a deal from the Devils," Zero told his agent the night Cleveland won the championship. "You need to make it happen."
His teammates were having a good time at the after party, held in a dim-lit club frequented by the who's who of Cleveland's high society. Unfortunately for Zero, nobody here had reached the heights he was aiming for.
"What about the twenty million Houston is offering? You won't get a better deal elsewhere - hell, after your performance tonight, you'll probably rake in twice that amount from endorsements alone."
"I know what they're offering," Zero said, draining the last of his champagne. It tasted bitter and stale in his mouth, a lot like how he was feeling in this town. "I want out. I'm done here."
His agent regarded him carefully, and perhaps sensing that this employment was on the line, he changed tack. "Fine. Fine. Look, the Devils reps aren't taking our calls, but I know a guy. He and I took a class at Wharton together - maybe he can make the introductions."
"Who is he?" Zero asked.
"Uh, Jude? I think that was his name. I'll call him tonight."
♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡
╰┈➤ MIAMI, FLORIDA
After his agent set the ball in motion, Zero met with Jude at an upscale lounge in Miami. Jude had flown in just to meet him at his hotel. He was already there on vacation and thought neutral ground would be a good starting point. Not the person to take his agent's word for it, he'd done his research. There was no Jude working for the bigwigs at the Los Angeles Devils. It was unorthodox, meeting with someone who wasn't part of the Devils hierarchy. Still, he was desperate at this point and willing to do anything to get the heck out of Ohio. The Devils were not budging in signing him. The working theory was that they were concerned he was still recovering from a knee injury. Given he'd just won the championship, that was bull and he asked Jude all about it.
"Terrence and Derek are the Devils most valued players, and the team feels like signing someone of your calibre would disrupt that," Jude said, more to the table than Zero. He wasn't flashy, just a simple guy in a low-end suit and sensible haircut. It was hard to see how Jude would help him out of his predicament.
"Look, Jude, I don't care what we need to do to get this deal done, but do it. I want to get out of Ohio."
"Why?" Jude was looking up now, his eyes shining with curiosity. "You could be the star of Cleveland Athletic. The way you're playing, you'd easily be the number one player there for years to come."
It was what his team had told him for months, and perhaps another player would have accepted it. Someone who wasn't running from themselves would be happy going through the motions. Zero wasn't. He wanted more.
"When I went pro, I thought the Devils would sign me. They didn't, and I've busted my ass for the last three years proving that I'm a top player. Top players play for the top team."
"What's the real reason?" Jude asked. "No offense, but, you're a lot different from all the interviews and press I've seen you do. What happened to ‘hand to God’?"
"It's all bullshit, alright, a character I came up with because I thought it would get me what I want. Now my agent is talking about getting married, babies, and my family image, and–I'd rather not."
Jude frowned. "You realise that even if you come to L.A., you can't just switch up overnight."
"What would you suggest I do?"
"Get a girlfriend. Someone high-profile and controversial, a dominant personality. That way people would believe she could influence you."
"And then what?" Zero asked, surprised that Jude hadn't hesitated. Clearly, he'd already been thinking about it and that was the take-charge attitude that he appreciated. He needed people who would give him solutions instead of giving up at the first hurdle.
"You use the attention from that to rebrand yourself both on and off the court. With a name like Zero, you're already halfway there."
"My agent said you're the best person to talk to about getting to Devils to make a serious offer. Is that true?"
For the first time since they met, Jude's features twisted into a grin. "My last name is Kinkade. I can make it happen."
♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡
╰┈➤ CLEVELAND, OHIO
Shortly after their initial meeting, Jude flew into Ohio for a few weeks and Zero put him up in his guest room. Negotiations with the Devils were going slowly, but there had been some progress so he wanted to keep Jude as close as possible. Zero felt rather than hoped the deal would happen and although many people had caught wind of what was happening, most of them didn't understand. How could they? He'd spent the last six years acting like he loved it here when truly, he hated every second.
Or maybe he hated himself, he couldn't tell the difference these days.
All he knew was that the closer he got to getting the hell out of dodge, the less it felt like there was a two-tonne truck on his chest, weighing him down with every fear he'd had since his foster care days.
"Is everything okay?" Jude asked during breakfast on his second morning at Zero's house. "If you're worried about the deal, don't be. Oscar's working on it."
Zero looked up from where he'd been eating a bowl of cereal by the counter, still not used to having someone else in his space.
"I'm not worried. You're here. And that means we're going to get this deal done."
It came out harsher than intended, and Jude's hand hovered over the butter he was about to slather over his croissant.
"You realise that it's not as simple as clicking our heels and hey presto, you're a Devils player? The board needs to free up some money for the tens of millions you're asking for. And you're not exactly willing to budge on your image rights."
"Why would I?" Zero snorted, dumping his bowl in the sink and running cold water into it. Turning back to Jude, he added, "I'm not an idiot."
"No." Jude regarded with him a raised eyebrow. "You're not. Which is why I don't understand why you're not leveraging your position here."
"I just have this need to get the hell out of here and I don't know why that is. Ohio has been good to me. It's changed my life and all I want to do is leave it behind."
"Why? What are you running from?"
Zero caught himself before he could say himself. He wondered why he'd admitted that tidbit to Jude.
Changing tack, he said, "You must be pretty close to Oscar and all, with you flying out on his behalf."
Jude's hand froze above his coffee mug.
"Or not?" Zero added.
Jude's hand landed back on the table, clenched tight. "It's complicated."
"He's your father. What's complicated about that?"
"What's your relationship with your father like?" Jude snapped, and it was the first time Zero had seen any fire in him.
Zero shrugged. "If I ever meet him, I'll let you know."
"Oh." Jude's eyes flashed with remorse. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth, Oscar barely acknowledges me. He throws a fit if I call him Dad."
"Why are you here doing his bidding?"
Jude grinned. "If this deal goes through and you get us a championship, he's going to have to bring me into the fold."
"This is about you making it to the top." Zero grinned back at him. "I can relate."
Jude stayed for the rest of the week and when they weren't hashing things out with lawyers and the Cleveland board, they hung out and got to know each other. They stayed indoors mostly, due to Zero's celebrity status. Every time he went out, someone would try to get the lowdown on his contract status and out of respect to Cleveland A, he kept it cute and mute.
Besides, lying low was not a big deal. Jude was good people. Humble and self-deprecating, with a mind sharper than Zero's. He knew things Zero didn't, and patiently explained everything right down to the last detail. Sometimes his eyes lingered too long, and Zero didn't know what to do about it. He was no stranger to hooking up with guys, but Jude was the closest thing to a friend he had and he needed him.
He would not screw it up just to feel good about himself for five minutes,
"Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer?" Zero asked when he dropped Jude off at the airport, two weeks after he'd initially flown in. "We can fly down to Miami, and have a guy's night."
Jude gave him a long, searching look. "I don't think anyone has ever asked me out to a guy's night before."
Jude said things like that all the time, and then his face would flush and he'd duck his head like he was waiting for Zero to admonish him. Zero never did, and while he was hard-pressed to admit it, he found Jude refreshing. He wasn't trying to be a slick, hotshot agent - he was unequivocally himself.
Something Zero had long forgotten how to be.
♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡
╰┈➤ LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
"I'd like to thank the two people that brought me here. That's Jude. A junior agent and a rock star at my agency. And God, with him, all things are possible."
◝┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈◜
Laughing as the cork of the champagne bottle popped open and the bubbly liquid spilled all over his brand-new kitchen counter, Zero let out a whoop.
"We did it!"
It had taken a month longer than expected, but he was officially a Los Angeles Devils player. Somehow, Oscar had convinced the board to free up the funds and sign off on the deal and here he was, living it large in L.A. with a sweet thirty million dollar contract. All the major sports networks had been in touch, from ESPN to FOX and NBC. He had his first sit-down interview tomorrow and Dolce & Gabbana was already knocking on the door with an endorsement deal. To say he was on cloud nine would be an understatement - he was buzzing.
Grabbing the glasses Zero had asked him to buy and bring over, Jude set them down. "You didn't need to thank me, you know. At the press conference."
"Are you kidding? We're a team, Jude. You said you wanted a way in and now you have one."
"I'm not so sure about that…" Jude exhaled messily. "Oscar is still treating me like I'm one of his employees. And he's not even signing my payslips. It's hard to feel like I'm busting my ass for good reason."
"I know what it's like when the person who's supposed to protect you treats you like you're disposable." Zero's thoughts flashed back to Leo calling him nothing, saying he'd always amount to zero. "And it doesn't get any easier, Jude. Eventually, you're going to have to decide if being in Oscar's orbit is worth it."
"What happened to you?" Jude's voice was like a whisper on his skin. "For someone who was so openly faithful in Ohio, your history is non-existent."
Anger flared up, coursing through Zero's veins. "What difference does it make, man? What you see is what you get."
"You don't want to talk about it. Message received." Jude gave him an apologetic smile. "You better come up with something if you still want to charm Jelena."
"Right. Talk me through this plan again."
"If you want to be top dog, you need to utilise the rift between Terrence and Derek. That means befriending one and leaving the other out in the cold, or outplaying them - whatever. Anything that disrupts the status quo."
"The way Derek was playing last season, it shouldn't be too hard. I can ask them to do my Sports Center interview with me, let them think that I'm a team player."
"And then you're going to swoop in and steal Terrence's girl."
There was a hint of bitterness in Jude's tone - unlike Zero, he didn't think going after Jelena was a good idea.
"Hey, last I checked, it's the twenty-first century. Jelena Howard is her own woman."
"Just...be careful, okay? She's not someone you can steamroll over."
♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡
When Zero was in college, he shared a dorm room with Patrick, a friendly Chemistry major. With curly, blonde hair, the man attracted his fair share of the ladies. He was the one who inspired Zero to change his hair colour, and now he was just as blonde, with freshly done highlights to mark his arrival in L.A. Much of his persona in the later years was based on Patrick and his religious schtick. He saw a Gideon bible on his nightstand one day, and followed him to the on-campus chapel, watching as he honest to God prayed. While everyone was sowing their oats and bed-hopping, Patrick slept with a frame of his high-school sweetheart on his nightstand. He spoke about her constantly, to where Zero knew that the girl preferred *NSYNC over the Backstreet Boys, and that her favourite colour was orange.
He asked Patrick once, how he knew she was the one, what it felt like to be in love.
"I don't know. It's like there's this person who gets you. No matter what it is, what you're talking about or doing, you're on the same wavelength. I don't know what I'd do without her."
It pained Zero to admit it, but he was always jealous of Patrick, always envious when he'd call her and tell her about his day.
He had no one. It was just him.
It was always just him.
Until Jude.
Jude, who stopped by every day for three weeks to make sure he was settling in okay. Who was always at the arena, on hand to talk Zero through his next steps. Jude, who knew his schedule like the back of his hand. Somehow, Jude had infiltrated the barriers Zero put up, and he didn't hate it.
"You know, you should really have someone spotting you while you do that." Jude was in the gym, appearing seconds after Zero had put his plans to bag Jelena Howard in motion. Zero was shirtless from the waist down, covered in a sheen of sweat, and judging from Jude's interested gaze, he appreciated the view.
"Like what you see?" Zero asked. He couldn't help it. Jude was so strait-laced and business-minded that he liked to ruffle his feathers now and then.
"Save it for Jelena," Jude said, although his gaze lingered a touch too long. "Speaking of, I saw her coming out of here. Are you all set?"
"Not quite," Zero said with a grin. "But I'm working on it."
"Define working on it," Jude said. "I already have my hands full with Derek and whatever he has going on with Pete's daughter. I need you to be on your best behaviour."
Zero laughed. "I can't promise you that. What I can guarantee is that, by this time next week? I'll have Jelena eating out of the palm of my hand."
♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡
Jelena Howard was like a broken down beautiful custom Faberge egg and along the way, all the king's men and horses haphazardly put her back together again. She saw through his phony faux Christian act instantly, the same way he saw through her tough-as-nails schtick. He recognized the pain in her eyes from his reflection; hard, angry with a tint of stolen youth. He could even tell she was still in love with her ex-boyfriend, Terrence, and he sympathised at first.
Jelena was tough as knuckles and she didn't let anyone get in her way.
Those qualities paved the road to success - he knew that firsthand, even though he wondered if the ends justified the means. He was no stranger to bulldozing people to get what he wanted, but Jelena was on another level. She reminded him of Trevor, from way back when, picking on kids because he didn't know how to deal with his own issues. And Zero regretted not stepping in to play peacemaker with Jelena and her feud with Ahsha Hayes. Instead, he was a willing participant, eager to do anything that kept her on his arm.
Unfortunately for him, Jelena wasn't anyone's puppet, and he still had all those childhood abandonment issues to deal with.
One minute he was stripping down to his birthday suit so Jelena could make a splash at Derek Roman's roast and the next–everything was gone.
A moment of madness went viral, and just like that, his faux Christian act crumbled. Apparently, men of God didn't cavort with escorts, or some hypocritical bullshit like that. People were only making a fuss because he'd gotten caught. Shattering the reputation he'd spent the last six years building into tiny pieces, glittering along his walk of shame. His phone was blowing up. His follower count was going down, and he was losing endorsements at breakneck speed. The tweets and hot takes were even worse, and one stopped him cold in his tracks.
@dnationriseup: I guess Zero skipped this part of the bible - ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die. Genesis, 3:3’.
While he wasn't dead, his reputation sure was.
♡⸝⸝♡⸝⸝♡
Call him a glutton for punishment, but after the media released the email exposing his tryst with Callie Malina's escorts, Zero spent most of the day replaying the moment his life went to shit. Jelena was sharp as ever, and she'd responded with a well-rehearsed sit-down televised interview claiming innocence and betrayal. Maybe it was his inertia and the genuine surprise, but he was slow to put the pieces together. It was Jelena's game, and he was merely a pawn.
And just like that, he was on the losing end.
She had been onto him from day one, using him to get ahead and waiting for the moment he slipped up. Jelena had marked his card the second he tried to get her to choose between himself and Terrence.
After all, why would anyone choose him?
There was one small bright spot. Jude came through, the way he often did when Zero was close to or actively fucking up. Zero stumbled through the motions of preparing for an away game, walking around his too-big house in a daze. Whether he packed the essentials was a mystery. He was sick with regret, and he spent the ride to the airport looking at his phone, wondering how things had flipped one-eighty in the past twenty-four hours. The car stopped at one of the service stations on the highway, and Jude climbed in, and they made the rest of the journey in relative silence.
It was only when faced with the prospect of exiting the car and boarding the plane that it hit him all over again. Everyone was going to be judging him, mocking him and he wasn't sure he could handle it.
"Maybe I should tell Pete that I'm sick and lie low for a while?" Zero said. "The team can handle one game without me."
Jude raised an eyebrow. "And risk Terrence and Derek taking all the shine away from you?"
"What shine, Jude?" Zero spat out. "Can you believe that they're asking how I could do this to someone I was in love with? Give me a break. Love? After what, five seconds? This is bullshit."
"Why did you do it?" Jude asked. "Why now?"
Zero rubbed his eyes, releasing a gentle exhale. "She kept pushing me away, and I didn’t react well. Usually, that turns into me needing to scratch an itch."
It wasn't the full truth, and it was clear Jude knew that. They were both aware Zero could have picked a more discreet place to hire some late-night entertainment. And even though Zero didn't predict how bad the fallout would be, there's a part of him that wanted out. He miscalculated Jelena's willingness to give him the chance to barter and promise her something in return for her silence. After all, he'd done for her, she owed him that.
"You fell for her, didn't you?" Jude sounded disappointed like he was seeing Zero in a new light, too, and it was even more unbearable than everything else. Jelena was Devils royalty. Her kings and horses would be firmly on her side.
Jude was the only person Zero had in his court.
"It's like there's this person who gets you." Patrick's words rang in his head again. "No matter what it is, what you're talking about or doing, you're on the same wavelength."
He didn't know what he would do without Jude.
"I'm sorry, Jude. For screwing this up." Zero shook his head bitterly. "After all the hard work you've done. She took my reputation. All my sponsors."
"I'll figure something out," Jude's voice was soft, like a balm over Zero's chest. "I'll fix it."
"This is beyond fixing," Zero said, distraught and on the verge of tears. "I've lost everything."
Except Jude. He still had Jude.
"Listen to me," Jude said in a hushed tone, leaning in and creating a vacuum where it was just them and nobody else could encroach. "Listen to me! I was Team Zero before and I’m Team Zero now. We’re in this together. I would never leave you."
"No, you wouldn’t." Zero looked up to face Jude, seeing nothing but support in his eyes. "Never have. I don’t know what I would do without you, Jude."
He didn't realise his hand was on Jude's knee until soft lips crashed into his own and for a moment, everything faded to black.
It was over in what felt like the blink of an eye, and the terrified look on Jude's face kicked his butt back into gear and just like that, his armour slipped back into place. Jude was defensive in the face of his flippancy and Zero did what he knew how to best.
He ran away from something real.
In the end, the Devils played an awful game and still managed a win, leaving Zero to drink one too many mocktails before he had a restless night devoid of sleep. His mind was racing, solely focused on Jude's lips on his. Jude was no slouch, and even though he dressed up in his starched suits and was in a constant state of tension, he was an attractive guy. Given how recklessly Zero had been behaving, a fumble in the sheets wouldn't be too far out of the realm of possibility.
Except, with Jude, it would always mean something. Jude was his friend. The only person in his corner. Zero wasn't risking that just to get laid.