Zane and Caine with something in common both dabbling in working with cars. Nice, nice
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Captain Canada
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He a good kid, unlike that dude from American Sun. Thief ass.
If you want to call what Caine was doing "working with cars".
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Soapy
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trueCaptain Canada wrote: ↑17 Dec 2025, 11:16He a good kid, unlike that dude from American Sun. Thief ass.
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 6164
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Season II | Chapter IX: No Idea
The shop was quieter than usual, the kind of summer afternoon where the heat pressed down heavy and customers moved slower, voices low, patience thin. Zane didn't mind it. He liked these days - liked the rhythm of work without the rush, the hum of the overhead fan chopping the air into dull pulses.
Felix was under the hood of a faded blue sedan, sleeves rolled up, forearms slick with sweat and grease. Zane stood nearby, sorting tools back into their places, careful to line everything up just the way his grandfather liked it.
"You've been putting in good work," Felix said suddenly.
Zane looked up. Compliments from his grandfather still caught him off guard. "Yeah?"
Felix straightened, wiped his hands on a rag. "Here. And outside of here." He gave Zane a measured look. "I see how serious you've been about football. Training like it matters."
Zane nodded, a small smile pulling at his mouth. "I'm just trying to make something of myself."
Felix studied him for a beat, then nodded. "That's good. That's the right reason."
Zane leaned against the workbench. "It's been easier to dial in lately," he admitted. "Bianca's in Ann Arbor. Early start at Michigan."
Felix grunted softly. "Distance will do that."
"Yeah," Zane said. "I miss her, but it helps me focus."
Felix tossed the rag onto the bench, folding his arms. "Just make sure that focus stays where it belongs."
Zane frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Felix didn't answer right away. He walked past Zane, flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED, then returned, lowering himself onto a stool. The shop felt smaller with the silence stretching between them.
"Relationships," Felix said carefully, "have a way of pulling you off your path if you let' em."
Zane shifted. "Bianca's not like that."
Felix raised a hand. "I'm not saying she is. I personally like that she's steadfast in what she wants to do." He sighed. "I'm saying I've seen what happens when young men lose sight of the work."
Zane hesitated. "You talking about someone specific?"
Felix's jaw tightened just enough to notice. "Your father."
Zane blinked, the air suddenly a degree heavier than what it once was.
"You didn't know him at that age. But Rasheed had gifts. Real ones."
Zane's heart thumped a little harder. No one talked about his father like that. His name was whispered within their household. A cautionary tale.
"He wore number one," Felix went on. "On the basketball court. Best athlete in his school, probably the whole district. Quick first step. Natural confidence. Unlimited potential when you get down to it."
Zane leaned in despite himself.
"But he started believing the hype instead of earning it," Felix continued. "Thought talent alone would carry him. Started chasing girls. Parties. Attention. The work took a back seat."
Zane swallowed. "I didn't know."
Felix's eyes softened. "Your father wasn't a bad man. He just slowly slipped away. Before any of us could catch him."
The shop hummed quietly around them.
"He let early success get to his head," Felix said. "Didn't keep sharpening the blade. And when things got hard, he didn't know how to push through."
Zane started at the concrete floor, the words settling heavy in his chest. "I want to be better."
Felix leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That's why I'm warning you now. You're doing things the right way. Don't let anything - anyone - pull you off course."
Zane nodded slowly. "I hear you."
Felix stood, clapping a hand on Zane's shoulder - firm, grounding. "Good."
Zane felt it then, clear as day. Not pressure. Not fear.
Direction.
By the time Bianca finished tucking the last of her clothes into the narrow dresser, the reality had finally settled in - she was here. Ann Arbor. The University of Michigan. Not a visit, not a camp, not a meet she would be leaving in 48 hours. This was home now.
Her home. Free from the constraints of her family's expectations.
Outside her dorm window, summer clung to campus in a way that felt calmer than fall ever would be. Fewer students, quieter walkways, but the same weight of expectation hung in the air. Student-athlete. Freshman. Prove yourself.
She tied her black hair back, slipped on her Michigan track tee, and headed toward the athletic complex for the informal team meet-up her coach her coach had encouraged the early arrivals to attend.
The track was already alive with motion when she arrived - stretching bands snapping, spikes clicking on concrete, laughter cutting through the heat.
"Bianca?"
She turned to see a girl approaching with a confident stride and an effortless smile.
"I'm Katie."
Bianca blinked once. Then twice.
Bright blue eyes. Bright blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail. The kind of stunning that felt unfair - like she had been carved for magazine covers. not 400-meter splits. If she had told Bianca she modeled on the side, Bianca wouldn't have questioned it.
"I'm Bianca." she said, shaking her hand.
Katie's grip was firm. Athletic. Steady. "You're the early-start freshman, right? Coach mentioned you."
Bianca laughed lightly. "Guess that's me."
They sat together on the bleacher as warm-ups started, Katie talking easily - about workouts, professors to avoid, how brutal Michigan winters could be if you weren't mentally prepared. There was a sharpness beneath her beauty, a self-awareness Bianca hadn't expected. She spoke thoughtfully, asked real questions, listened without waiting for her turn to talk.
Bianca found herself drawn in.
"I like knowing why we do things," Katie said at one point. "Training, classes, life. Makes the grind easier."
Bianca nodded. "Yeah. Same."
It felt natural. Easy. The kind of connection Bianca hadn't anticipated finding so quickly. It wasn't the same as her high school friendships. Surface level. No challenge.
"Yo, Katie," a voice called out.
A tall guy leaned against the fence near the track entrance. Long dreads. Ruggedly handsome. Tattoos ran up both arms, disappearing beneath his sleeveless Chris Webber Michigan basketball jersey. He moved with the loose confidence of someone who knew exactly who he was.
"This must be the Freshy," he said, eyes settling on Bianca with open appreciation. "I'm Darius.."
Bianca smiled politely. "Nice to meet you."
"Same," he said, holding her gaze a beat longer than necessary. "You run like you've been here before."
Katie smirked. "You flirt like you do this for a living."
Darius laughed, unbothered. "Can't help it."
His attention stayed on Bianca. "You got plans later? Couple of us grab food after practice."
Bianca didn't hesitate. "I'm calling my boyfriend after practice. He's back in Pittsburgh."
The words came out calm, practiced, certain.
Darius raised his hands slightly. "All good, no disrespect meant."
She relaxed a fraction.
"For real," he added. "Doesn't have to be anything but platonic. Team's team, you get me?"
Bianca studied him, then nodded. "I appreciate that."
Darius grinned. "Bet. Welcome to Michigan."
As he jogged off, Katie leaned closer. "Don't worry. He tests boundaries, but he's not a problem."
Bianca smiled, eyes following the track lanes stretching out in front of her.
New place. New people. New expectations.
And still - anchored.
Even from hundreds of miles away.
The shop was quieter than usual, the kind of summer afternoon where the heat pressed down heavy and customers moved slower, voices low, patience thin. Zane didn't mind it. He liked these days - liked the rhythm of work without the rush, the hum of the overhead fan chopping the air into dull pulses.
Felix was under the hood of a faded blue sedan, sleeves rolled up, forearms slick with sweat and grease. Zane stood nearby, sorting tools back into their places, careful to line everything up just the way his grandfather liked it.
"You've been putting in good work," Felix said suddenly.
Zane looked up. Compliments from his grandfather still caught him off guard. "Yeah?"
Felix straightened, wiped his hands on a rag. "Here. And outside of here." He gave Zane a measured look. "I see how serious you've been about football. Training like it matters."
Zane nodded, a small smile pulling at his mouth. "I'm just trying to make something of myself."
Felix studied him for a beat, then nodded. "That's good. That's the right reason."
Zane leaned against the workbench. "It's been easier to dial in lately," he admitted. "Bianca's in Ann Arbor. Early start at Michigan."
Felix grunted softly. "Distance will do that."
"Yeah," Zane said. "I miss her, but it helps me focus."
Felix tossed the rag onto the bench, folding his arms. "Just make sure that focus stays where it belongs."
Zane frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Felix didn't answer right away. He walked past Zane, flipped the sign on the door to CLOSED, then returned, lowering himself onto a stool. The shop felt smaller with the silence stretching between them.
"Relationships," Felix said carefully, "have a way of pulling you off your path if you let' em."
Zane shifted. "Bianca's not like that."
Felix raised a hand. "I'm not saying she is. I personally like that she's steadfast in what she wants to do." He sighed. "I'm saying I've seen what happens when young men lose sight of the work."
Zane hesitated. "You talking about someone specific?"
Felix's jaw tightened just enough to notice. "Your father."
Zane blinked, the air suddenly a degree heavier than what it once was.
"You didn't know him at that age. But Rasheed had gifts. Real ones."
Zane's heart thumped a little harder. No one talked about his father like that. His name was whispered within their household. A cautionary tale.
"He wore number one," Felix went on. "On the basketball court. Best athlete in his school, probably the whole district. Quick first step. Natural confidence. Unlimited potential when you get down to it."
Zane leaned in despite himself.
"But he started believing the hype instead of earning it," Felix continued. "Thought talent alone would carry him. Started chasing girls. Parties. Attention. The work took a back seat."
Zane swallowed. "I didn't know."
Felix's eyes softened. "Your father wasn't a bad man. He just slowly slipped away. Before any of us could catch him."
The shop hummed quietly around them.
"He let early success get to his head," Felix said. "Didn't keep sharpening the blade. And when things got hard, he didn't know how to push through."
Zane started at the concrete floor, the words settling heavy in his chest. "I want to be better."
Felix leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That's why I'm warning you now. You're doing things the right way. Don't let anything - anyone - pull you off course."
Zane nodded slowly. "I hear you."
Felix stood, clapping a hand on Zane's shoulder - firm, grounding. "Good."
Zane felt it then, clear as day. Not pressure. Not fear.
Direction.
***
By the time Bianca finished tucking the last of her clothes into the narrow dresser, the reality had finally settled in - she was here. Ann Arbor. The University of Michigan. Not a visit, not a camp, not a meet she would be leaving in 48 hours. This was home now.
Her home. Free from the constraints of her family's expectations.
Outside her dorm window, summer clung to campus in a way that felt calmer than fall ever would be. Fewer students, quieter walkways, but the same weight of expectation hung in the air. Student-athlete. Freshman. Prove yourself.
She tied her black hair back, slipped on her Michigan track tee, and headed toward the athletic complex for the informal team meet-up her coach her coach had encouraged the early arrivals to attend.
The track was already alive with motion when she arrived - stretching bands snapping, spikes clicking on concrete, laughter cutting through the heat.
"Bianca?"
She turned to see a girl approaching with a confident stride and an effortless smile.
"I'm Katie."
Bianca blinked once. Then twice.
Bright blue eyes. Bright blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail. The kind of stunning that felt unfair - like she had been carved for magazine covers. not 400-meter splits. If she had told Bianca she modeled on the side, Bianca wouldn't have questioned it.
"I'm Bianca." she said, shaking her hand.
Katie's grip was firm. Athletic. Steady. "You're the early-start freshman, right? Coach mentioned you."
Bianca laughed lightly. "Guess that's me."
They sat together on the bleacher as warm-ups started, Katie talking easily - about workouts, professors to avoid, how brutal Michigan winters could be if you weren't mentally prepared. There was a sharpness beneath her beauty, a self-awareness Bianca hadn't expected. She spoke thoughtfully, asked real questions, listened without waiting for her turn to talk.
Bianca found herself drawn in.
"I like knowing why we do things," Katie said at one point. "Training, classes, life. Makes the grind easier."
Bianca nodded. "Yeah. Same."
It felt natural. Easy. The kind of connection Bianca hadn't anticipated finding so quickly. It wasn't the same as her high school friendships. Surface level. No challenge.
"Yo, Katie," a voice called out.
A tall guy leaned against the fence near the track entrance. Long dreads. Ruggedly handsome. Tattoos ran up both arms, disappearing beneath his sleeveless Chris Webber Michigan basketball jersey. He moved with the loose confidence of someone who knew exactly who he was.
"This must be the Freshy," he said, eyes settling on Bianca with open appreciation. "I'm Darius.."
Bianca smiled politely. "Nice to meet you."
"Same," he said, holding her gaze a beat longer than necessary. "You run like you've been here before."
Katie smirked. "You flirt like you do this for a living."
Darius laughed, unbothered. "Can't help it."
His attention stayed on Bianca. "You got plans later? Couple of us grab food after practice."
Bianca didn't hesitate. "I'm calling my boyfriend after practice. He's back in Pittsburgh."
The words came out calm, practiced, certain.
Darius raised his hands slightly. "All good, no disrespect meant."
She relaxed a fraction.
"For real," he added. "Doesn't have to be anything but platonic. Team's team, you get me?"
Bianca studied him, then nodded. "I appreciate that."
Darius grinned. "Bet. Welcome to Michigan."
As he jogged off, Katie leaned closer. "Don't worry. He tests boundaries, but he's not a problem."
Bianca smiled, eyes following the track lanes stretching out in front of her.
New place. New people. New expectations.
And still - anchored.
Even from hundreds of miles away.
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The JZA
- Posts: 9042
- Joined: 07 Dec 2018, 13:10
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Captain Canada wrote: ↑20 Dec 2025, 13:29As he jogged off, Katie leaned closer. "Don't worry. He tests boundaries, but he's not a problem."
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 6164
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
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Poor lil rich girl versus teen mother prostitute.
'Ye of little faith
