𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀.ᐟ 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗸𝘀

blood, sweat, and tears

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chapter twenty-four: blood, sweat, and
tears

{a/n:

yoyok was on an hour loop while i was writing this... so yk it's about to get bad. i hope you guys are prepared

:,,,)

enjoy! }

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     ADAM SHOVED A SPOONFUL of Rasin Bran into his mouth, not allowing himself to chew before chugging down on a vanilla protein shake.
He swallowed, coughed, then did it again.

He had to finish his breakfast fast if he wanted to keep studying.

It was the following morning after the whole team fiasco. Adam was sitting at a bar desk in one of the main common rooms of the North building.

There was a notebook sprawled out in front of him, messy outlines of pen and pencil with plays and notes scattered across the pages.

Adam had been up the entire night, only running in five minutes of sleep from a cat-nap he took after working out in the gym at two in the morning. For the majority of those twelve hours, he was watching his tapes and studying all of the plays he's ever learned in his career, determained to keep them ingrained in his mind.

Obviously, he was aware this wasn't the best idea. Coach Beau specifically told him not to beat himself up, but he couldn't help it.

Who cares what Coach Beau thinks?

There was purple bags bruised under his eyes. His hair was messy, sticking in all different directions. Yawns fell from his mouth at lest every three minutes. Anyone who were to walk by and see him could easily tell he was sleep deprived.

Adam managed to finish he breakfast in three minutes. He pushed the styrofoam bowl and shaker bottle aside with his arm, not caring about the droplets of milk that's spilled from how harsh he was.

He wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, sat in silence for a couple of seconds to reset himself, then got back to work.
Though, his concentration didn't last long. All his exhaustion eventually caught up to him, and he suddenly felt very dizzy— and just so out of it.

Adam pressed a few fingers to his temples, messaging them gently in an attempt to relieve the feeling, closing his eyes.

But when he finally opened them, he was back in the mind of his nine year old self. Sitting alone in his bedroom with tear stained cheeks, recovering over the unspoken pressure he was emotionally under while his ears still rung from his father's angry words. 

It was the same feeling he had right now. He was pushing himself so far-- too far.

And it's only been a day.

Adam didn't even notice the tears that now ran down his face as he brought himself out of that odd hallucinated state. It was when he glanced down at his notebook, beaded tears slowly seeping into the paper— some swirling in with the pen markings.