Work Text:
prologue
"David Vincent Wymack, what is that?" Kayleigh Day stood with her hands on her hips, towering, and generally being impressive in high heels. David Vincent Wymack was currently sitting on the floor, papers spread around as if hit by a hurricane. His tribal tattoos on his forearms were a shade darker than his skin. His dark hair was held back by an neon orange hair band, causing his hair to appear electrocuted. He had a large toy fox in his lap. David raised his eyes from the paper he was examining near his left foot, "Paperwork."
Kayleigh stared. "I meant the giant toy fox." David blinked then looked down at the misshapen orange toy sitting between his legs, "Oh, that's a fox."
"Davy," –he blinked at her, clutching the fox in his grasp "—have you been drinking?"
David grinned, a quick show of white teeth. "No. But I have got a really good idea."
"Really? Does it involve gluing yourself to the ceiling again?"
"A guy glues himself to the ceiling ONE time—"
"—And his best friend had to somehow unstick him."
"You called 911, Kayleigh."
"Well what was I supposed to do? Leave you hanging?"
"Har har."
She gave him a look. David gave her his own look, and then looked down at the papers again. "I want to start my own team."
Kayleigh was silent. He looked up and met her bright green gaze. She made a motion in her hand for him to continue. "A team made out of athletes from broken homes, broken pasts. I want to give them the second and third and fourth chances that they need to get their life on the right track."
His brown eyes looked like coffee beans, "I want to give them what I never got."
chapter 1
David Vincent Wymack had an attention drawing face. It wasn't because he inherited his grandmother's Native appearance, the tribal tattoos on his arms or the bizarre orange hair band he occasionally wore. Not even the scowl on his face was the reason. David drew people's attention because he had the eyes of an old man in a body of a young one.
"You're like a grumpy old man." Kayleigh once told him as he banged and worked his way across the kitchen. Her dark hair was twisted in a bulb on her head, a few strands escaping to kiss her high cheekbones. Kayleigh was tapping her nails to a song only she heard as she moved her jade eyes across the open letters in front of her. All from Tetsuji Moriyama. All about Exy.
Exy. That bizarre sport which Kayleigh has been babbling about since she was in high school. The sport she and Tetsuji invented. The sport she keeps insisting Wymack tries out.
He did try it out once, and it did not end well. David subconsciously rubbed his forehead as he listened to the sizzling of the scrambled eggs on the pan. Kayleigh was a good athlete. In Exy she was a monster, and she had swung her racket so hard that the ball went zipping through the air and collided with David's forehead. The doctor's said he was lucky his skull hadn't cracked. Kayleigh said he was lucky he could still play Exy so no harm done.
That's when Wymack's interest in Exy went down the drain. Good riddance for that. It didn't stop Kayleigh from trying to drag him into Exy hell. She rigged the TV channels to only show the Exy Channel, the Cooking channel and the news. She innocently asked Wymack to accompany her on 'field trips' which were actually to Exy merch stores or different teams and facilities. She even stuffed different Exy gear all around the apartment they were sharing so he would stumble upon them and be "Enlightened".
David finally put his foot down when he found an Exy racquet in the shower, which meant he was given in and trying it out one more time so the lunatic would leave him, and the shower, alone.
***
"I hate you." He was sulking. David didn't like sulking. It made him feel like a child. But that was his current emotional state as he sat in Kayleigh's Volkswagen passenger seat, frame slouching and arms crossed.
"No you don't." Kaleigh replied. Her voice was cheerful. It instantly pissed David off. Kayleigh was humming, her nails thrummed against the steering wheel. David turned on the radio. Even country music was better than hearing Kayleigh satisfied humming and seeing her smug expression. But apparently even country music couldn't stop the inventible. David stared ahead at the bright stadium blearily. He couldn't believe he agreed to this. Wait, scratch that. Of course he could, because he was here wasn't he?
The stadium was a work in progress. Relatively small since it was built for the neighborhoods sports clubs. Just because it was being built for Exy, didn't mean the other sport groups had to take a hike.
"Do you know the rules?" Kayleigh was rummaging in her handbag. The only visible feature was her wrists. Everything else was paper flyers or paperwork. Of course he knew the rules; she drilled them into his head after coming back from Japan.
"I wrote them down for you just in case, but I can't find them. I guess you'll have to do."
"Thanks Mom."
He ignored the look she gave him and slipped out of the passenger seat and trotted to the back of the car. Kayleigh followed after him and opened the trunk.
"Since it's your first time—" David shot her a glare "—where you actually are playing and not standing in place like an idiot instead of dodging --"
"I was. Behind. The Plexiglas. Wall."
"Unfinished. Plexiglas. wall. You should have ducked."
David sighed. There was no point in trying to talk reason to Kayleigh. Her mindset is built in a way that she is always right. "—You're going to be playing striker."
"Wait. What?! Striker? Kayleigh I am not agile."
"You are when you put your mind to it. And you have fast reflexes and good eyes. You will be fine." More like dead by the first ten minutes.
"I have your gear in the bag here. They are all custom made for you so you better keep them in shape."
"When exactly did you make these?" Kayleigh was suddenly preoccupied again with her bag. David rummaged in the trunk and opened the flashy colored Exy sports bag inside.
"Did I ever tell you how unsettling some of your actions are." All the gear there was built for a striker. It was also all orange. Neon orange.
Kayleigh rolled her eyes, "It matches your hair band."
"Seriously, when did you have these made."
"After I came back from Japan."
"That was months ago."
"Well it was hard to convince you to play Exy."
David gave her a look. She gave him a wuthering one in return. David looked down into the bag again, "I don't like Exy."
"You are just living in denial."
David's head snapped up. "I'm serious Kayleigh."
"So am I." Her eyes were like clear green glass. "You never seemed to fit into the other sports. I'm sure Exy would change that."
"You just hate not getting what you want."
"True." She was smiling. It was a calculated smile. David frowned. "But, I always get what I want."
"You are very determined to make an Exy junkie."
"I trust my gut on such things."
"Maybe you're hungry."
"David."
"Kayleigh."
Kayleigh reached in and zipped the Exy bag shut. David slung it over his shoulder. The racquet inside dug into his hip. The helmet was a heavy weight against his shoulder blades. Kayleigh was grinning. David scowled.
Kayleigh closed the trunk with more force then intended and pranced away on her high heels, dark hair swishing as she swaggered toward the Exy court. She looked damn right pleased with herself. She was probably holding her nose into the air as well. David tightened his hand on the strap of the bag.
He lied. David didn't hate Exy. He actually thought it was a very interesting sport. He just didn't like how Kayleigh was obsessed about it. He didn't like that she was pushing him into something that she liked, while he was struggling to finish his assignments at Uni. He also didn't like how violent the sport was. David flexed his knuckles, seeing red on unmarked skin. He could still feel his Father's skull crack under his punches. David didn't want to feel that release again. He was afraid Exy might do just that.
He jumped when Kayleigh shouted at him. She was waving at him from the door of the court, looking very much like a child who got handed their favorite candy. David closed his eyes and breathed in. Then breathed out.
Screw that.
He started to march toward his beaming best friend.