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Dragons Games Chap 10-5 redo, question, and update.
🕑 Added 2023-06-11 04:00:03 +0000 UTCThis is my second attempt at chapter 10's conclusion. I wanted to thank you all for your support so far. Just want to put it out there that any feedback or suggestions are welcome, particularly with this one, since I've had flak in the past about reveals and conclusions (looking at you The boy and the Queen). Also wanted to say this is NOT the end of dragons games, we have 1 more chapter to go and possibly an epilogue, if I don't roll them into one setting.
I've also been thinking of the idea of writing bonus scenes for patrons only, a few thousand words only for you guys, not for scbmstories, not for fanfic or anywhere else, just here. If this is something you guys might like, I would like to know your thoughts, chuck us a comment or a dm or whatevs.
As for the redo I've done some reworks of a few dialogue lines and general tone around Jim and his father, and cutting the confession down by a few hundred words, also the intro is shorter. I feel like I'm typing like this is a changelog in a game update, maybe that can be the layout.
-changed father to be less of a 'dick' before mother's mention
-removed unnecessary explanations, for later
-Jim leaves the hall and the scene is cut, picking up at his home after
-rewrote tussle scene
Anywho, please let me know your thoughts on both the redo, and the patron-only scene idea. Also don't worry about the spaces after the italics, formatting doesn't always translate when copypasting. Love you all!
Redo:
“I wanted to tell you a long time ago, so badly, but I …” she trailed off, and he watched as a drop rolled down her left cheek. “I tried, just know that I tried to, okay? And now that everything’s done the only thing left is to… is to just say it.”
And she did. For about thirty seconds she spoke, and Jim stood still throughout the whole thing, his expression shifting from concern to horror with each word she said, until she closed her chops with a sigh.
Thirty seconds. That was all it took to change it, for everything to make a kind of disturbed sense, his mind filling in the blanks that had been left open all this time. Thirty seconds.
He turned around, and when he started to walk she tried to stop him, but he shoved her back, the sound of the club’s cheers dying out, replaced with a sort of white noise as he made his way backstage, through the fire exit and into the dark.
The cold nipped at his exposed skin, Jim still wearing his costume as he wandered out of the campus, and that was all he could feel – a coldness, spreading through his body like a disease. He saw no one, none of the Mythics, none of the teachers, not even Cassidy. Jim had almost wished she would be here, but the Garchomp had not followed him out, and he wasn’t about to wait around for her.
There was only one person he wanted to talk to right now.
2
The familiar silhouette of his house stood against the twinkling backdrop of the night sky, Jim kicking the front gate open as he walked round the fence of the property. He’d walked home in a sort of trance, like his mind had receded and his body was on autopilot, taking the reins while his thoughts tried to organise themselves.
He stomped up the rocky driveway, his hands balling by his sides, but he looked on in disappointment when he noticed the lights were all off, and the front door locked when he tried turning the handle.
He brushed his pockets with his hand, but they were empty. Of course, his spare key was back with the rest of his belongings in the drama hall. It didn’t matter, nothing really did as he took a seat on the front step, clutching his knees to his chest as he waited.
And waited. His hands were shaking from the cold that permeated him, spreading through his body like a disease, though this feeling had nothing to do with the temperature, but Cassidy’s words. They had stung, more than Lara’s parting words had, all the recent months tallying up to make a pit of dread his mind couldn’t help but slink into.
He was getting antsy when at last, headlights washed over the garage door, Jim watching a car pull up the incline. The engine petered off, and two people got out, giggling and whispering to each other. Jim kept silent as he saw a woman walk round the hood of the car from the passenger side, into the waiting arms of his father.
“Hang on, hang on!” his father chuckled, the woman reluctantly pulling away with a smirk. Jim had never heard him sound so… excited before, the whole display was disgusting. “Let’s get indoors first.”
“You weren’t thinking like that before,” the woman replied, taking his hand in hers when father locked the car with a click. “Can’t say I’ve ever been chatted up at a footy game till now. You pick up a lot of women during sports?”
“Only the good-looking ones,” father replied, the woman giggling like any laughing drunk would, Jim could smell the alcohol on her breath even from here.
“Ah, Jim?” father asked when they got closer, stopping a few feet from the porch. Jim had been sitting in the shadow of the overhanging roof, and only now did they notice him. “What happened to you? I couldn’t find you after the game.”
“Busy,” Jim answered. He gestured at the woman. “Who’s this?”
“Meet Marla, she was sitting next to me.”
Marla looked well into her forties, the bright red lipstick doing little to hide her age. She wore a purple jersey a few sizes too small for her, Mythics plastered onto the front in white letters. She had one hand on her bag, while the other was locked with his father’s, though her grip on him softened just a little as she looked Jim over. “You didn’t tell me you had a son,” she said to him.
“He doesn’t tell a lot of things,” Jim answered. “So how much did he pay you to come home with him?”
“What did you just say?” Marla snapped, her face going redder than her lips. His father stepped in front of her, his brow furrowing as he raised a finger.
“You don’t talk like that to friends,” his father chided. “What is the matter with you?”
“Me? What’s the matter with ME?” Jim growled. “You know what’s the matter! You know! This whole fucking time you KNEW.”
“Ah…”
Jim had never cursed at him, never had the courage to, but anger was a good substitute he had an abundance of. And yet all he had to say to this development, was ‘Ah’?
“She told you, then?” father asked. Jim didn’t answer, and he sighed his parent rubbing his temple with his hands. “*sigh* She wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I shouldn’t be surprised. There was always a chance.”
“And how was I supposed to found out? From you?” Jim asked. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”
“A few months, perhaps, if all went well. Which it was, right up until the finals of course. Want to tell me what happened?”
“Don’t change the subject!” Jim snapped. “This is… This whole thing was a lie! You lied to me!”
“You’re overreacting,” his father stated, calmly. “Anyone in my position would have done the same thing.”
“You paidher, to fuck me!” Jim yelled, his voice wavering.
Saying it out loud, hearing it in his own voice, it broke something inside him, as if only now was it all starting to sink in. Part of him wanted to lay down and curl into a ball, but another part wanted to scream. Had nothing been real between him and Cassidy? What else was she and his father hiding?
“I paid her to help you,” his father corrected. His voice was level, calm, not an ounce of annoyance behind it, purely explanative. “And it was indirect at most. Whatever you two made up behind closed doors, I had nothing to do with.”
“You had everythingto do with it!” Jim shouted. He felt dizzy, strange spots starting to appear in his vision, but he willed himself to press on. “You’re the reason I met her,” he said. “You knew her before I did, didn’t you?”
His father did not answer. “Tell me!” Jim insisted.
“Yes,” his father relented. “You wouldn’t have talked to her, so I had her do it instead.”
He wilted. Jim had held his father in such high regard, because he was the only family he ever knew. His father had not said that to insult him, but to state an obvious fact, and that hurt so much more than anything.
“Listen to me, Jim,” father continued. “This was for your own good.”
“Maybe I should go…” Marla said, but father shot her a stern look.
“Just a second, hun, this won’t take long.”
He was acting so casual, treating this like it was some minor thing he’d quickly deal with, it made Jim’s hands tremble as he tightened his fingers into fists.
“I wanted to help you,” father repeated, turning back to face him, gesturing with his arms as though explaining a case to a jury. “That broad you were seeing left you in a state, don’t you remember? When I realised I couldn’t do any more for you, and your grades starting dropping, I knew I had to resort to… other methods. If you wouldn’t start picking yourself up, I would.”
“Fortunately I met a client late last year, a pair of Garchomp’s looking for a place to buy. Every bank had turned them away, saying their credit was no good. Wanted to get away from all their debts and start anew. Imagine my surprise when I saw they had a lovely young daughter who’s about my son’s age, with no friends in sight, and who’s academically gifted to boot?”
His father grinned. He actually grinned, Jim’s chest fueling with rage as he forced himself to listen.
“Two birds, one stone, I thought. I agreed to cut them a very generous deal on a property I’d had trouble selling. I lose value on the sale, they get a place to live, and in exchange their daughter helps my boy pick up the slack. Naturally they were hesitant,” he added with a shrug. “who wouldn’t be? But we eventually reached an understanding.”
“You’re sick,” Jim whispered. Was that why her parents had been acting so strange? Of course they would be, he’d ate their food, sat at their table, fucked their daughter in their own home. No wonder Cassidy had been so hesitant when he brought up the idea of meeting them. “You’re fucking sick!”
“Don’t start that,” his father said, dismissing Jim’s retort. “Look where you ended up soon after! You pulled your head out of the gutter, got out of that depressive state you were in, things were looking good. Then you do this,” he added after a pause. “the one game you were supposed to get right. I could finally have a reason to talk about you in public. Then you threw in the towel with that ridiculous penalty.”
He stopped himself, perhaps because he’d heard his own words, or perhaps he’d noticed Jim’s complexion change. Maybe both.
“You… you what?” Jim muttered.
“I… I didn’t mean… look,” his father quickly added. “Just, after seeing you knock-on that ball tonight, it frustrates me. Neither the house or your universities fees are cheap, Jim, that would have changed had you won.”
In the resulting pause, something inside Jim just… snapped. How dare he think about money now, when Jim’s whole world was being ripped apart? How dare he try and pin all the blame on him?
“I should have made her be sterner with you,” his father muttered. “You probably would have listened to her more than me, young love and all that.”
“And what do YOU know about love?” Jim shouted, stalking over and jamming a finger into father’s chest. “All you care about is money! You’ve always treated me just like the houses you sell, something you can invest in if it means making a profit! That’s why you cared all of a sudden, isn’t it? The damned sponsorships were all that mattered to you, this wasn’t about me at all!”
His father weathered the barrage, his expression hard, neutral. It only made Jim more furious.
“You wouldn’t have given a crap if this season was just like the others! All these years, all these years I’ve tried to please you, and now you say you’re frustrated? You wanna know something? I fucking hated this sport when I first started, but I forced myself to play it, know why? Because for the first time since mom died, you actually smiled when you saw how good I was. I thought for once I could actually satisfy you, so I did what I had to do.”
“But now I wish I could take it all back,” Jim continued. “You hired Cassidy because you knew there’d be stakes this season, probably found out from Mr. Bahril, you two are close. Do you know how much it hurts to hear you dump all this shit on me? Do you even care? No, you’ve never cared, you just worry about your own image, that’s why mom fucking killed herself, you could never just stop and give her the time of day, even when she started-”
Jim’s words were cut off as he recoiled, white-hot pain exploding through the side of his face. His father had never hit him, not once, not even when he was a troublemaking child had he ever given him more than a few stern words. There was a sick satisfaction layered in the pain, however, Jim having finally gotten a reaction that reflected the situation.
“Don’t you ever, talk about your mother like that,” father said, Jim glaring up at him as he wiped at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve given you everything, Jim! And this is how you repay me? Tell me to shut up, demand things from me? You little shit, you screwed up your one chance, and I’m the one who’s in the wrong here? Should I have paid for two girls, maybe? Would that have helped you to not be such a fuckup?”
Jim had heard enough, lunging forward and wrapping his hands round his father’s waist, driving them both to the pavement. There was a sickening thump as father landed on his back, the old man grunting as Jim put all his weight on top of him.
Jim drove his fist towards his face, but his father caught it in his palm, so he used his other arm, throwing all his weight into the motion, his knuckles connecting hard with his father’s cheek. His father’s face was all blurry, Jim fighting back tears as went to hit him again.
“Oh my god! Stop! Stop it!” Marla gasped. She tried grabbing one of Jim’s hands, but he shoved her back, the woman tripping over her own feet, landing on the grass nearby as she watched on in horror.
The distraction she gave left Jim open, and his father jabbed him hard in the ribs, the young man gasping as the blow drained his lungs of air. He closed one of his hands over Jim’s face, shoving him to the side with a grunt of effort. The front bumper of the car clunked as Jim dented the metal there, feeling the heat radiating off the closest wheel.
Jim nursed his shoulder as his parent staggered to his feet, a pang of concern rising through his chest ash his father clutched at his side, laying there on the ground as he snarled in pain. He was far stronger than Jim, but also much older, and Jim wasn’t about to let that go to waste, suppressing any urges he had to stop this.
He planted his boot in the small of his father’s back, the old man going down hard and crying out. Jim was back on top of him before he’d even hit the ground, scraping his knees against the driveway as he straddled his father.
He brought his right hand into the air and brought it down as hard as he could, his father’s head snapping to the left as he struck him on the chin. Jim raised his arm again, lamping his father on the nose. A stream of blood starting to drip out of one of his nostrils, another appearing on his lip as Jim hit him a third time.
He father backhanded him, but Jim fought through the pain, cursing at the top of his lungs as he threw another punch, his face contorted in anger, even as he cried harder with each strike. All the lies, all the anger he’d been holding back, he unleashed it now, and yet rather than feel satisfaction as if father began to struggle less and less, all that was left was an emptiness.
One of his tears fell from his face, landing on the line of blood forming from his father’s nose. Jim paused, watching the redness dilute a little as the salty drop began to slide down his dad’s chin.
“I loved her!” Jim sobbed, his fist raised threateningly. His father wasn’t trying to defend himself now, too dazed to even get his hands up. “Why did you do this?”
“F-For you,” his father murmured, leaning back and closing his eyes as pain shot up through his body. “I did it… for you.”
The fight, the frustration that had been broiling up throughout the night, it all drained away at that, Jim’s body deflating as he sat back, his fist relaxing, a look of horror on his face when he realised the state his parent was in.
He crawled off him, clutching his head in his hands, leaving bloody fingerprints on his temple as he heaved up tears. How long he’d sat there he couldn’t tell, but it was only until he sensed movement did he finally look up, seeing that Marla was crawling towards his father, who was laying there where Jim had left him. She watched Jim from the corner of her eye, like she was afraid he might lash out any second.
“My god, what have you done?” she gasped, taking father by the chin and examining him. He was asking himself the same thing. “I’m calling the cops.”
Jim managed to drag himself to his feet, only half-hearing Marla as she started dialling on her phone. A car drove down the road beyond the property fence, Jim moving to the gate with a blank look on his face. Before he walked into the night, he heard his name being called. It was faint, barely more than a whisper, but there all the same.
He didn’t look back, even as his father called out to him a second time.
