Chapter 32: The Public Mistake

UNKNOWN POV

The footage was frozen on a frame that shouldn’t have mattered.

The players milled about with their phones and coffee cups in their usual pre-game shuffle. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but something had caught my eye during the initial pass; something that didn’t belong in the background of a B-roll shot.

I leaned closer to the screen and zoomed in.

In the corner of the frame, I noticed the two players separated by half room, they didn’t acknowledge each other, but one of them looked up. At the other person across the room, trying to be discreet about it.

My finger hovered over the trackpad, I rewound and watched it again.

The rookie entered the frame first, he dropped his bag by a chair but didn’t sit, looking around instead in search of someone. His eyes landed and locked in on his target, his posture relaxing.

The captain was across the room, his back to the camera as he spoke to the goalie. He didn’t make any eye contact with the rookie, but his body shifted slightly, angling towards the rookie.

I sat back and called out.

A man in dark clothes and quiet feet appeared at the doorway, he was the kind of person that could stand in a room for an hour without anyone noticing.

“Tell me what you see.”

He watched the screen.

“I don’t see much, all I see is teammates interacting.”

“That’s bullshit.” My voice was sharp but not angry. “You’re a better observer than that.”

He kept quiet as he watched the footage all over.

“Well, I see two people trying too hard to not look at each other.”

My smile didn’t reach my eyes. “My thoughts exactly.”

I opened my notepad, scribbling down my observations.

——-

The restaurant was loud by the time they arrived, the players filled the long table, spreading across both ends, it was the usual team dinner chaos. The captain took his usual spot at the far end, with his back to the wall as he scanned everywhere with a focused gaze.

The rookie was at the bar, drinking something that didn’t look like water.

They were trying too hard to avoid each other and it showed in the way they came in separately, having separate conversations and basically living in separate orbits.

But I saw through it all.

The cameras were positioned around them, two stationery and one handheld moving through the players.

The rookie threw his head back, laughing at something someone had said. His shoulders shook as he laughed. It was a bright sound; the type that made people look, it was the kind of laugh that filled a room.

Across the table, the captain looked.

His face was facing his plate with his hand wrapped tightly around a water glass, he didn’t move his body in a suspicious way. All he did was move his eyes.

The captain’s lips twitched into an almost smile and it was gone before anyone could notice.

The handheld camera drifted, sweeping the room, trying to catch the expressions of the players. The person operating the camera had seen the slight interaction as he held the frame, capturing the moment before the captain looked away.

Beside the operator, I heard a voice: “There, that’s the shot.”

Neither the captain nor the rookie noticed.

——

The dinner continued, plates were cleared, and voices rose as the tension reduced. Their consecutive losses began to fade in the background of good food and wine. The captain stayed on his end and the rookie stayed on his, both maintaining careful distance.

Or so it seemed.

The footage told me a different story.

The rookie’s eyes found the captain’s eyes more than three times. Once when someone asked a question about the power play, once when the check came and once when he thought no one was looking.

The captain’s eyes also flickered to the rookie twice. Once when the rookie laughed again and once when the rookie got up to go to the bar.

Neither moment lasted more than a second.

The operator lowered the camera, the figure beside him taking notes.

The voice was quiet. “Everytime they’re both in a room, they look for each other.”

The operator said nothing, his face remaining blank.

The figure smiled. “They’re being careful, I’ll give them that. They’ve thought this through and they’re being disciplined.”

The operator waited.

“But even discipline has cracks, there will be slip ups, and gaps between moments.” The figure wrote some things down. “That’s where the story lies.”

The dinner finally ended and the players filed out, the captain was one of the last to leave; putting his jacket on with an unreadable expression. The rookie said something to the bartender making him laugh. By the time he was done conversing with the bartender, the captain was gone.

The cameras captured the look of slight disappointment on the rookie’s face when he turned to see that the captain was gone.

I would review the footage again tomorrow, I would go over every frame and every glance; every touch would not go unnoticed by me.

The story here was not in what they did, it was in what they almost did. The way they bent towards each other like gravity and caught themselves before they fell.

The operator packed up the camera, with the figure still taking notes.

“We’re almost there.” The voice said.

I had my prime suspects now and I would follow it to the end. I had clawed my way to the top, I had worked really hard to get to where I was, and I refused to let two gay boys ruin everything.

Once I had all the evidence, I would expose them and kick them off the team.

I didn’t know why anyone in their right mind would want to be homosexual, but I didn’t care, all I cared about was the reputation of the team.

I had to protect the team from any scandal, I had to protect my job.

And I would do whatever it takes.