The Degradation

Chapter 4

"Milan Kundera wrote:" The game it is not free, for players the game is a trap." I do not want to fall into this trap. And if this is loss, have you thought about what will be the prize? I want to play with you. It remains only to find out you win or lose."- Harry

The final whistle sounded and I collapsed to the ground. Eyes closed, I fall to my knees on the grass and I spread my arms. My hair dripping with sweat, I am out of breath and my football shirt sticks to my body. I scored the fucking goal. Ten seconds before the end. I hit so hard that I nearly dislocated my leg. Goalkeeper did not catch the ball and I scored. 4-3! We won and I hear the hysterical screams all around me. I slowly take my breath. The entire campus are in the stands. My body is shaking from the adrenaline; we won the first match of the season. I get up and turn around. I am looking for my father. He claps his hands as proud as my coach does at his side. Other players are running to me and my eyes look toward two green eyes which staring at me at the entrance of the locker room. He standing there with his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. I feel that time stops, that everything happening in slow motion. I only hear the beating of my heart that resonate loudly. Nothing exists around me except his eyes and in less than a second I find myself surrounded by all the players in the team and he disappeared. The sounds reappear. The outside world is again exist and I lifted off the ground carried on the shoulders. It's euphoria. We won.

In the locker room, there is complete chaos. We all change clothes. We scream, we sing. All guys slapping me on the shoulder. I'm the star of the day and I love it. I scored three goals on four including the victory one. I withdraw my captaincy and my jersey when the coach calls me.

- Good game, Tomlinson!

Again the same congratulations. Even my father, who came along with him, he praised me, and it does not happen every day. We chat a few minutes: the score of the game, tactics, about the next game, and in the end, a locker room emptied and I am the last to go to the shower. I wrapped towel around the waist, wrung my hair and then back to my locker. Paper, which was fold in a half, are on the metal door.

"Congratulations. – H"

I look around me. There is not anybody. I am alone.

A party in honor of the victory was at the home of a guy from the team. After a week without drinking because of match, everyone catches up and the beer flows freely. I can't take a step without receiving smiles, winks and congratulations again and again. Eleanor proudly wearing captain jacket. The red plastic cups of vodka was link. Dancing, drinking, playing. The rooms were takes and people fuck.

- I tell you! He tied him to a radiator, and then washed off.

- Handcuffed!

- Are you sure?

Three girls are have spirited discussion in a corridor and then I explode with laughter. My head turns slightly just not to show I'm downright pissed.

- Styles are crazy!

Huh? From the only his name, I stop behind them. I lean against the wall, pulling the phone, so they can thought that I send SMS, not overhear the conversation.

- The guy stayed more than one day there and he was tie naked before Harry came to free him.

And I don't know if it's because of alcohol but I feel cold sweat run down my back.

The girl pushes me against the wall and make me jump. I drop my cup with vodka and it spills onto the ground. I feel bad and I my head hurts. I agree with others people that are lay on one of the sofas in the lounge. I think I drank too much, or I tired after the game, the pressure and everything else. The music is too loud, there are too many people, the voices, the laughter all these gives me the hurt. I'm hot and my head is spinning more and more.