- Saturday, February 3rd, –

Today I'm going to ignore my gut feeling telling me not to drink too much. I skipped the first dose of medication for the day, not planning on taking them tonight either.

I'm not planning on keeping Oliver's hatred towards alcohol in mind either.

Today is my birthday, and I'm planning on a trip to oblivion.

Fits my oblivious state anyway.

We're down to the last ten minutes of our soccer match, and we're in the lead after I scored two goals. Our opponent is trying to score at least one goal and we know the number one we beat last week, lost another game this morning. We could take over the lead, as we only lost one game to them a couple of months ago.

I opened the score early in the game, in the sixth minute, scoring the second after another three minutes.

Not much has happened since. We've been passing the ball around our defence, not putting in much effort to score another goal, or to risk them from scoring at all.

But for the last 10 minutes, the opponent started putting more pressure onto our defence and they've been close to scoring a goal.

I'm currently in the middle of the field, waiting for them to take a corner, impatiently tapping my foot.

I watch the ball fly through the sky, nearing the goal, straight towards their best player.

Oliver is right beside him, but the guy jumps higher in a duel to get to the ball first. I feel the defender who's been getting on my nerves bump into me, missing the moment of action as I send him an unimpressed look.

Then, there's cheering, shouting, and I snap my head back, groaning as I see the ball in the back of the goal. The opponents' players cheering loudly, running back to their side of the field, but Oliver still on the ground, holding his head.

I frown, knowing Oliver doesn't just stay down for nothing.

"What happened?" I ask as Sam nears me with an angry look on his face.

"The guy elbowed Oliver. Think he's bleeding out of his lip."

The referee is standing with him, while the assistant coach Jack and our caretaker Hans run towards Oliver with water and whatnot to take care of whatever's wrong with him.

"He did it on purpose, I swear." Felix joins our little group, and the three of us wait for Oliver to get back on his feet.

But minutes pass and he isn't getting up, and I'm starting to worry, wondering why he isn't getting up.

"I'm going to see what's wrong." I tell Felix and Sam, passing Jaimie on my way back – who's eyeing the guy who hurt Oliver with an evil look on his face – and jog towards Oliver.

"He can't play anymore." Jack gestures towards Jordan, our coach, telling him to take Oliver out and put in a different player.

But that's the problem. Other then Oliver, only Ben is a logical choice to put in central defence, and Ben is injured.

"Who's going to take his position?" Eli asks with an annoyed sigh.

I kneel down besides Oliver, who's keeping his eyes closed. "Hey, you okay?"

"Bit dizzy," Oliver mutters, while a towel that is being pressed against his nose and upper lip smother most of the sound. "I'm out for now."

"Yeah, you need to lay down for a while." Hans tells him firmly. "Stay quiet."

"Who's taking his position?" Felix shows up by my side again.

"I guess Eli has to take his, and Brent can take Eli's position. I don't know..."

"Cris, you can do it." Felix nudges me. "You used to be a defender."

"Ho, wow..." I hold up my hands. "It's been years."

"You were good. Just not as good as Will, but you can do it." Felix nudges me again. "Jack, trust me on this. Cristian knows how to keep them for scoring another goal. It's only for what, ten minutes?"

"Eight," the referee tells us. "Switch, and get him off the field," he grumbles annoyed, gesturing for us to get moving.

"Okay, Cris, you go in the back. I'll sent in Brent to do mid-mid and Sam will take your position. Just get rid of every ball that gets on our side of the field." Jack pats my back and I groan in annoyance, not liking to be in defence. But I guess I have to help out my team and I do think I'm the best option right now to take over Oliver's position.

"You can do it." Felix tells me, pulling me aside so that they can help Oliver up and out of the field. "Just eight minutes, shoving everything aside."

"Right, I know." I nod. "I just don't like to be in defence."

Felix smirks and shrugs, before he runs towards Sam, telling him to take over my position.

We get back in our spots – and I get ready in my new spot – and the game is back on.

And instead of running towards a goal, I have to prevent them from coming to close to ours.

Eli and I cover their main offender, who is the one that hit Oliver with an elbow.

Since out of the three of us, I'm the most tactical player, Eli keeps shadowing him, while I get rid off every opportunity for him to even get to the ball in the first place.

Each ball that rolls towards me, I shoot forwards as far as I can, trying to reach either Felix, Sam or Jaimie, succeeding most of the times.

But as we're closing in on the last minute, the opponent who I'm covering with Eli, knees me between my legs while the referee isn't watching. I groan, cupping my crotch, falling down on my knees, trying to bite away the pain.

There's people shouting along the side of the field, all in anger, while Eli calls out to the referee 'to do something', not getting a response. This is the downside of having to visit a club for a match; their referees always pick their side.

I bite down, trying to ignore the intense pain, pushing myself up as their right-side player passes the ball deep and Eli is the only one left to prevent him from scoring, besides our goalie.

We are not tying.

I hobble the first couple of meters, but then sprint as fast as I can, nearing in on them as Eli manages to stay in front of him just long enough for me to catch up, as Frank and Wesley – our other defenders – run after their own opponents. The guy passes by Eli, notices me closing in, taking a shot. It passes our goalkeeper, Dylan hitting the crossbar and bouncing down in front of the goal. The opponent and I run, while Dylan is on the ground, scrambling up – visibly not going to be in time. I start a sliding, thanking god for the field to be wet and slippery, and kick my leg forwards, sliding over the ground as the opponent does the same.

I'm not sure what exactly happened as we collide while both reaching the ball in the same time.

All I know that his knee again collided with my crotch and that I'm now in full on pain and misery, crying out, rolling around, hoping for the pain to ease down quickly. The referee, somewhere on the field, blows his whistle to tell us the game ended and then there's cheering coming from my teammates, of which Dylan, Eli and Frank all run up to me, piling on top of me while screaming in joy.

It's as if we won the championship and I just secured it.

But I know we're now in the lead of the competition and that is a big deal to the team.

And I guess me preventing the fool from scoring another goal, caused us to be in that position in the first place.

* * * * *

They made me man of the match again and there's joking about me blacking out last week, after downing the litre of beer. They joke how I shouldn't do it today and re-enact me falling down before laughing loudly. But it's a tradition and I'm not going to refuse. I'll just wait with ordering any alcoholic drinks until I downed it, and then I'll see how I feel. Besides, the record is currently on my name, so I don't have to try as hard as I did last week. I can catch my breath in between.

So, I find myself back at the table, guided by a lot of cheering as I down the beer – a lot slower then I did last week – I proudly hold up the empty glass with a smirk on my face.

Patrick is right beside me, checking me to make sure I'm not going to black out again, but smiling as he notices I'm doing fine.

"And that's a slow attempt, but I guess you already nearly died trying and succeeding to get the record on your name." Patrick pats my shoulder, people laugh, and I want to step down after laughing with them.

Patrick stops me. "As we know, today isn't just a great day because the boys are in the lead, or because Cristian saved the game, the day, and single-handedly got us three points today, it's also his birthday."

The last statement causes my team to holler and cheer loudly, someone even whistling loudly.

"Let's sing him a song." Patrick nods towards Harry, who turns on the music, while Patrick starts singing me a birthday song, soon followed by nearly everybody who is inside the canteen.

To say I feel a bit awkward is an understatement. I'd rather down another litre of beer. Which makes me realize how much I've changed in the past two years.

Because up until then, I loved the attention, the admiration from girls, the guys who are jealous because I'm better in soccer.

But I don't feel any of the pride.

No, that's wrong. I do feel proud of what I succeeded today. I just would love to share this with Finnley. Because being completely honest, he had been my muse for a long time already. I did all of it to impress him. To get his attention, to make him feel proud to be my friend.

And he isn't here to feel proud, to witness my success. Which makes it feel a little more like this is all for nothing.

They end their song, and I'm freed from the awkward position, taking a bow as to not show how awkward I truly feel, stepping down with both feet on the ground.

And then I start my journey to oblivion, knowing the apartment is ready for the party tonight and all I have to do once I get home, is put on decent clothes.

Oliver went home shortly after the match since he wanted to lay down for a while before attending the party.

Nathan went with him, while Stan is here to drive me home, knowing I'll drink too much to keep left from right.

I don't know how many people come up to me to compliment me on the game, congratulating me and my teammates with the win.

"It's getting late, and you need to get back home to eat something." Stan pulls me away from Jaimie, who's currently handing out shots.

"One more shot, and we'll go." I tell him with a smirk. "Just one. It's because it's my birthday."

"Off course it's because of your birthday." Stan laughs. "all drinks had been because of your birthday. "One, and that's it."

"Okay dad." I roll my eyes in a dramatic way.

"Oh, I'll be your daddy." Stan wiggles his eyebrows, causing me to end up in a fit of laughter.

Felix pulls me towards the group while I'm still laughing a bit, pushing two shots in my hands.

"To Cristian!" Jaimie calls out loudly, and the team cheers and we all take a shot, me taking two, right before Stan pulls me away by my arm.

"I'm taking the birthday boy home because there's pizza on it's way." Stan calls out. "Sam, Jaimie, dinner is served in half an hour."

"We're on our way." Jaimie jumps in his spot excitedly, pulling Sam out of the crowd. "Pizza, Sammy-boy, we're gonna go and eat pizza right now."

"Sounds like a great plan." Sam nods, pushing me lightly, causing me to nearly lose balance. "Birthday boy needs food."

* * * * *

I think the party got a bit out of hand. While we initially intended to drink in here until around midnight, before heading into the city, it is now way past midnight and every body but Oliver is drunk.

Oliver is in my bed with a massive headache, and I'm seated in the corner of the couch, trying to make myself as small as possible.

I'm in pain, not physically, but mentally, and I'm in the worst state of drunk; the state in which you're so drunk, all emotions that you try to keep in, start pouring out slowly because being sober is like a dam, while alcohol causes the level of emotions to rise and rise, until the dam breaks, and all of it starts to pour out.

I'm watching as Nathan and Stan are a comfortable couple, standing in the back of the room, playing a game of beerpong with Felix and Julia – another happy couple.

Jaimie is playing a game of twister with his new girlfriend Laura. Sam seduced Nikki, and I'm here, all alone, observing the scene in front of me.

Most people are too drunk to notice my state, not paying attention to me at all.

I said most, because I jump slightly, as Oliver suddenly kneels in front of me, wiping away a tear that I didn't even know has escaped.

"Time to go to bed." Oliver whispers sadly. "You've had enough."

"I'm not tired."

I am, I truly am exhausted. I just don't want to go to bed and have another nightmare.

Oliver nervously bites his cheek, obviously contemplating on what to do right now. He knows I'll throw a scene if he forces me to go to bed. "What about a walk?"

I snort and shake my head. "I'm not going out for a walk in the middle of the night. Jeff is out there."

"We'll go for a ride, open the windows, get you some fresh air." He nods his head, gesturing for me to follow him.

And since I hate sitting here, feeling shitty, I reluctantly do so. I pull on a sweater that he hands me as soon as I reach the hallway, telling me he's going to inform Stan and Nathan that he's taking me out shortly.

We walk towards the car in silence and remain silent for the first couple of minutes of the ride.

"What caused you to break?" Oliver asks with a neutral tone-of-voice. "You were fine when I went to bed."

"I'm in pain." I whisper with a hoarse voice, tapping my chest to tell him I meant in mental pain over a heartbreak. "Everybody is happy together, while Finn is out there somewhere. I miss him so, so much and I hate how he isn't here to celebrate my birthday, or the victory of today. I feel lonelier then ever and I'm so tired. I want him here with me so badly."

"I know..." Oliver sighs, a sad expression on his face. "I wish he would be here too."

We fall back into silence, giving me the time to think about Finnley again. How we used to be together nearly every day. How I wish I would've realised I had feelings for him so that we could've grown together even more. But the fact he kept his feelings hidden, the fact I didn't even consider being with him other then just friends, made us grow apart.

And I wish I would've never left him on his own last year. Somehow, I feel like if I would've met Oliver sooner, I would've fought for Finnley harder beforewe really fell apart.

I could've had more time with Finnley, but it's my own stupidity, my own obliviousness that caused us to have this little time.

I wish I would've fought harder when Jeffrey tried to drown me, I wish I would've fought harder to get out of that jacuzzi to help Finnley.

Or more so, I wish I would've walked with Finnley when his cousin started crying or force him to take a panic button with him inside. Who knows what would've happened if one of us would've been able to push that button right away.

Who knows if he would still be here, safe with us, if we wouldn't have been this careless.

"Somehow, I feel like none of this would've happened if I would've realised my feelings for Finn sooner." I turn my head to take in Oliver's reaction to my words.

"Don't blame this on yourself. Finn wasn't ready to fight his parents until shortly before he got abducted the first time. It would've have mattered, because he would've already gotten himself into trouble, even if you would've admitted your feelings. He told me so himself."

Oliver shortly looks at me and I simply frown at him, waiting for him to go on. "He knew you were closeted, because you and Finn kissed twice while you were drunk. He knew he stood a chance, but he chose not to act on it because he wasn't ready to openly admit. And we all know you can be a bit reckless. You probably would've openly admitted your feelings sooner then he wanted to."

"I would've never opened up about it if he didn't agree on it."

"Cris, wanting to be with you was the one thing that kept him going. He wanted to run away from home so many times. He wanted to change his life again and again, but he didn't because he wasn't sure you would still be part of that life."

"And none of us would've met you." I cock my head sideways a bit and show him a small smile.

"I wish my dad would've never won that lottery, so that we would've have moved, so that I would've been with Maxie every day. Then maybe, he would still be alive, and I would still have my boyfriend." Oliver squeezes the steering wheel again. "We can't always have what we want, but other then me, you still have a chance. You just have to make sure not to give up."

"I'll never give up."

"You already slowly are giving up, Cris. You're not looking for him as hard as you did two years ago. I know the stories, I know the risks you took. But you're not trying to figure out who sent those texts to Finn. You're just letting the cops handle it instead of doing it yourself."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Confront Sidney. We think it was him, right? Then why not confront him?"

"He'll deny it and that's that."

"Then we'll follow him around, like Stan did with Nathan last time when you thought he was the one to harm Finn."

I bite my cheek, overthinking his words, knowing he is right. I'm not doing everything I can to find Finn.

"We should look further into Sydney."

"You're right." I nod. "We need to find Sydney and see if he's got something to do with this."

"Then let's start with that as soon as you're not suffering from a mayor hangover."

I chuckle and nod once more. "Now I just really want to go to bed."

"Okay, we're going home, to bed, and start fresh in the morning."

"Afternoon."

"Afternoon." Oliver chuckles, and we send each other a smile, trying to tell each other that this is all going to be okay. We just have to try a bit harder.