Wereball Serie - Along Came A Mate

You know what they said about gossip and pictures posted on social media. That they were just a tangled mass of lies, appearances, and insecurities masked by fancy filters.

Deep down I already knew all that. But the reality was something else; especially in moments when strong emotions took over us, when we were possessed by jealousy and co.

Until that day, I had ignored that world of ‘putting likes’, certified falsehood and abrasion of fingers (after liking and scrolling down too many pictures). I would have loved to inform all those girls who put likes to photos of my mate, MY MATE, that they would be at risk of premature arthritis from wearing out their fingers so much. But then again, if they got arthritis or myopia, they would have deserved it after drooling on someone else’s mate. Me, in this case.

At the time, I had created my Instagram account simply because Makena and Tiziano were active day and night and always complained that could not tag me in their photos or stories. Lachlan was like me, thankfully, more of a fan of old-fashioned mind-link or text messages. However, as captain of the pack’s Wereball team, he had a social image to defend, at least according to ‘the social experts’ who I highly doubted had any real data to prove their theories.

Ultimately, my twin was also bribed and forced to create an Instagram account. But this fact had given rise to a dangerous chain of events: Uncle Andrew and my mother had made their Instagram profile too, together of course. That then led my father to create his very own. And with that, goodbye loving privacy, and welcome awkwardness.

My father, the Alpha, who commented with hearts or kisses on photos posted by Tiziano, who had almost a million followers, was... well, a surprise? But mostly it was embarrassing to witness the scary big Alpha active on instagram. He defended himself by stating that he missed me at home, so he enjoyed seeing what I was up to and how I was spending my time.

Besides, it was sad that he had more followers than me.

Anyway.

Returning to the heart of the matter, after two days that I had found out who my mate was, I could not resist the power of social media.

So, I went to browse the official page of my mate, which had 3 million followers of which at least 90% were women. The comments, often too explicit, had made my guts boil and I had sent several curses all over.

Despite that, I had to admit seeing his photos did something to my ovaries.

The good thing was that he did not seem active, in fact, it looked like he was not the person posting the photo, but there was someone, a manager perhaps, posting them, as they looked professionals.

There were many images, all of them related to wereball. My mate talking to a group of fans, my mate throwing the ball while jumping ~ that photo had done weird things to my drooling self, my mate clutching a trophy with a towel around his neck, and so on. I had spent hours zooming in on his face, losing myself on his facial expressions, most of them full of confidence and smirks, some with eyes that spat fire.

My neurology book lay, unused, on the nightstand as I analysed and studied my mate’s photos.

There was another fact about social media: when you looked for something that was not meant to be found, well, it was eventually found.

I knew I should not have dug, but I could not stop my fingers, having a conscience of their own, to look for more accounts.

In the search tab, I had typed in several names and eventually found a profile of one of the Wereball players of dark Diamond.

And what I saw crushed my heart.

The annoyed pain in my chest came back a little so I shut everything, cursing myself for putting my nose where I should not have. So, I took a well-deserved nap, abandoning myself to oblivion and nothingness.

Trying to erase the image of my mate kissing what’s-her-name or my mate dancing attached to the hip to “short skirt”.

In my cloudy mind and blurry eyes, I never saw my phone illuminating and vibrating.

Later that night

My roommates and I were going out that evening. There was a party that most of our campus was going to. It was open to all and considered the event of the semester.

As I had no classes the next day and Teresa would cover my shift at the children’s hospital, I decided to join, to distract myself from my dull thoughts and spend some quality time with my best friends. The icing on the cake, Amaia had confirmed that she would be joining. Everyone had thought it would rain tomorrow.

Tiziano and Makena were currently in his bedroom, intent on getting ready.

“Be careful with that device! You’re burning the right side of the fringe!!”

“So why don’t you straighten your hair yourself?”

“Because you always boast that you are an expert!”

“And I am! With real hair, not with these fake strands!” Makena had barked back and received a grunt.

“Expert my balls!”

I had been ready for centuries; twenty minutes between shower, hair, choice of dress and light make-up. I had even time for some drinks with the guys downstairs.

At that moment, I had just returned from Lachlan’s apartment. The crew downstairs was now going to someone’s friend’s house, saying they’ll see us later, at the party.

“Aarrgh, do you need to pull that much, woman?! I swear, you have pincers instead of hands!”

Tiziano’s voice seemed to come from a megaphone like the ones he used in a Wereball match, both to cheer and to threaten.

I chuckled to myself when I heard my phone ring.

I ran to my room, waving as I was a little tipsy. However, I missed the call.

Unlocking the screen of my phone, I noticed that the Santa’s Reindeer had called me twice, once shortly after nap and now.

“Hellooo Rudy Reindeer!” I screamed to get past the loud music booming in our house when I called him back.

The music was a technique of Tiziano, to prevent Amaia from studying again while he and Make got ready. A giggle came out of my lips as I remembered the irked face of my genius friend. She was already ready for the party while Tizzy was still in pajamas with a regenerating mask on his face and Makena putting on nail polish, in her gym clothes.

then I realised silence came from the other line.

“Rudy?”

“Are you drunk, Bunny Doc?” It sounded like a scolding but that voice I had not heard for a while distracted me. Goddess, it was so amazing that every time I felt my heart tremble.

“Do you know your voice is unreal, Rudy?” I exclaimed too enthusiastically, ignoring his question. “Do you think my mate’s voice is just as incredibly hot as yours?”

He chuckled, with that hoarseness that should be banned. I lay down on the bed with a silly smile, my head spinning a little. I had to admit that I was not used to drinking and Aperol was the most effective poison for disrupting my system.

“Ivy,--”

“But the best thing about my mate is the hair. They look so so so soft.” I said dreamily, my mouth moving and talking nonsense. Once again, I did not let him speak and went on with my gab.

“His wolf must be super super super fluffy! Do you think he has long fur? I’m fairly sure he looks like a big furry kitten if my mate’s hair looked so caressable!”

Another deep chuckle came from the other line.

“Ivy.” He called my name. Humour laced in his voice, as if he was smiling, or maybe laughing at my little show.

“How much have you drunk?”

“Oooh just some Aperol Spritzzz!” I drawled. “With the neighbours. You know, my brother lives downstairs with his friends! Caius, Alex and company and then we-”

“Who did you say?” He interrupted me, all his friendliness out of the window.

“Who’s who?” I asked back, frowning. “You don’t need to be so RUDE, Rudy!” I started laughing at my own joke while the guy remained silent, as if he were listening to my laugh.

“Rudy?”

No answer.

“Lucien?”

“Yeah?” The voice sounded deeper, raspier.

“You know, today I saw that my mate has like two thousand million photos with girls. At various parties, events and so on. I hated it.” I said sadly, in a high-pitched voice.

He sighed and muttered something I could not catch.

“Shouldn’t he remove them now that he has a mate?”

“Ivy, he-”

“In the end my friends were right! My mate is just a womanizer who doesn’t care about-”

“Yvaine!”

The command in his voice stopped me for a second and gave him time to speak. “He hasn’t even seen those photos or his Instagram, I’m sure they are just for wereball!” He seemed very annoyed about that.

“Sure, kissing dolls and cheating-”

“Why do you think he will cheat on you?”

“Just because!” I said in a muddy voice. “I need to go now!” My mood had dramatically decreased, and I had to do something about it.

“Where are you going? Stay home, you are in no condition to go out.”

Conditions to whom?!

“Pft, who are you to order me around? You are just a reindeer!” I scoffed loudly,

“And if my mate is out partying with all his blonde fans and stealing girls like Archie told me, I can do the same!”

The growl that came from the other line initiated shivers. Not of fear, but of something else.

“You are so quick to judge someone, mmh?” His voice could have been scary if I were not that tipsy.

“When social networks are full of evidence, I don’t need to judge. It’s a fact.”

“So, you think your mate is a womanizer huh?” He said in a weird voice while I was playing with the hem of my dress.

“Yes, a womanizer that abandons women, including me.” I stated with confidence, with my chest aching again.

“If that’s what you think, who am I to deny it!” He laughed dryly. So dry it could chafe my skin.

“And you know what? You are right, he abandons women all the time.”

I had no idea at that moment, in my suffering drunken state after seeing those photos, but I was about to find out.

#

AN/ Eheh!

Next chapter is going to be BOOOOM BADABOOOM!

Next update: on Sunday

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