𝟒. when the party's over

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hey everyone!

here's another chapter for you all!!
sorry for updating this nearly a year later, I've been through a lot :')
got broken up with and it tore me apart but I'm getting better now!! also, college is kicking my ass. I'm gonna use that as material for this story lmao 😭

I thought I would make it up to you guys and give you an extra lengthy chapter!

I hope you enjoy<3

6.1k words.

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When The Party's Over
"Of all the people in the world, I never expected to see you again."
~16th March 2019~

The sun shined down onto the pitch, your eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing.

"That's Jean Kirstein."

The same guy you had been friends with since you were kids and now it was like you were seeing a stranger. He looked a lot different, his hair was longer styled into a mullet, and he now had a beard that fits nicely along his jaw. He was a lot more attractive than he was 5 years ago. He had become broad and tall. It was almost like he was a completely different person, especially in his demeanour. The way he stood, chewing a piece of gum, the bat that rested on his shoulder. It was almost like he knew this would be an easy game.

"Why? Do you know him?" Marco questioned, glancing over at you. "I guess you could say that," You pursed your lips after you spoke, not quite sure how you should be reacting. "Really? How so?" Marco asked slightly confused. "Let's just say we grew up together," you purse your lips again, slightly unsatisfied with the fact you were seeing him in these circumstances. "Wow?!"
"Yeah..." You laughed awkwardly. "Well, you will get to talk to him later." Marco smiled, "I what??" You asked confusingly and shocked. "Did Hange not tell you? There's an after party that we go to interview the players individually."
"Well they talked about a lot of stuff but they didn't mention anything like that." you laughed awkwardly, the feeling of dread taking over your body. "They probably forgot. By the tone of your voice, you seem worried?"

"No, I'm fine. Let's just watch the game." you forced a smile at Marco. He didn't seem too phased by how I was acting, he barely knew me so how could he know?

Jean positioned the bat, ready to swing at the spinning ball which was to come in his direction. The thrower - or whatever it is called - was in the position to throw the ball to Jean. He prepared himself for the ball, still chewing on his piece of gum like he didn't have a care in the world, his brows knit together with concentration as he adjusted his grip on the bat, it truly showed how his demeanour has changed. Even from afar, he seemed different.

The thrower let the ball go out of his hand, and the ball spanned at a rapid speed as it approached Jean. He hit it. It flew across the field, my jaw dropped at how far it went. I forgot how good he was at baseball in high school.

The crowd cheered loudly as they saw the ball fly in the opposite direction, Jean dropped his bat and ran as fast as he could. People went up on their feet to cheer, even you had to stand just to see if he would make it and he did.

One home run already.

It wasn't long until the next player came out, he was tall, blonde and quite broad. He caught your eye more than it should have.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝟏𝟖, Jean Kirstein.Where stories live. Discover now