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[b][i][color=B9A84D]”...a quiet soul…”[/color][/i][/b]
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[color=B9A84D]”MAKE IT, D. MAKE IT!!”[/color]

The pain in his chest was strong as it tried to force what little breath he had left in his lungs out of his body. With a slam of his body against the makeshift pine wall, DeShawn slumped to his knees and watched the sweat drip from his head and bare torso onto the floor. Behind his Uncle Denzel’s house was a disused industrial complex and Dee had took the time to mould the debris and the vast urban decay into his own personal gym. As much as he enjoyed his team practices on the football field, the solitude of what was once Jolly Textiles was just too much to ignore.

It was all about stamina tonight. Suicide drives, got to love them. The part of the wasteland he had claimed as his new personal gym was just off the beaten path, close enough to the house for him to see it but far away enough so that he wouldn’t be disturbed. Dee’s workout regimen was extreme to say the least but he was built for it, not many other people were, that was one of the reasons he preferred to do it alone, no one else could keep up. He was happy with his progress physically. Now all he had to do was sort out the rest of his life, that was different fight entirely. As the sweat pooled beneath him, DeShawn let out a satisfied gasp of air. Barely a ripple in the vast ocean before him. They were stardust lost in space and he was only a fragment….shit all Dee knew was that he didn’t want to go back to West Baltimore.

The first week of his last year of high school was nothing short of boring. As was his usual style, Dee had kept himself to himself and was not at all interested in getting involved in the drama of Rosefell High. A quiet soul; he was there to play football, get recruited and make something of himself and he would do that even if it killed him. Dee had found a home with the Rosefell Knights, though transferring in late in the football season last year meant he couldn’t help them get to State. That said, it was a brand new year and he was now there right from the start. The Knights were going all the way with him in the team, he would make them shine and in turn, they would help him get a scholarship, that was really his only option to get out of this thing alive.

Once but an ounce of his great strength had returned, DeShawn pulled himself to his feet and began to drag his heavy form back towards his uncle's house. Entering through the back door, he kept quiet as he made his way through the house and up to the bathroom to clean the stench of sweat and garbage from his body. The piping hot water of the powerful shower made a lot of headway in soothing his aching muscles. After cleaning himself up, DeShawn changed into his party clothes. All summer, Dee had followed a strict code of conduct; if he trained as hard as he possibly could all week, he’d allow himself the weekend to let loose and relax. Normally this would mean a few video games at a fellow Knights or perhaps a rough and tumble with one of the fine females of Rosefell but tonight it meant going and getting shitfaced by a lake...there were worse ways to chill.

Making his way back down the stairs, he glanced over to the dining room where his uncle had fallen asleep on the table, a common occurrence. Uncle Denzel didn’t sleep a lot, a habit left over from his time in the army. He felt more comfortable sleeping on the floor or some other hard surface rather than his own bed. A small smile crept across Dee’s face as he watched a small string of drool fall from Denzel’s mouth and onto the history paper of a middle schooler. DeShawn pressed two fingers to his lips and then pointed them towards his guardian. 

[color=B9A84D]”Love you Unc”[/color]

[url=https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=oKlQvAOVvjU]As the synthwave[/url] permeated around his old Jeep Wrangler through his recently installed surround sound speakers, Dee took a few minutes to compose himself. He certainly wasn’t the worse in a social situation such as this but he he most definitely wasn’t the best. Large groups sometimes tended to give him anxiety. At least on the gridiron all he had to do was listen. He pulled up to the lake and parked the jeep just off the beaten path. He didn’t mind leaving his car this far out so he could have a drink, he’d just pick it up the next day. Walking up the party, his massive frame could’ve blocked out the bonfire that had amassed if he had so desired. He moved over to the drinks table and picked up a tasty tasty beverage, part of him was hoping that he could just blend in to the dark and just enjoy his evening but he knew that being six foot two and two hundred plus pounds of chocolate football player, that would not happen. It was just a question of who got to him first;

Friend or Fan?[/center]