With a confident demeanour and tall posture, Mark walked through the archway and crossed the university threshold onto the gravel path. Previously too absorbed in his thoughts, the headache's strangeness bothering him, a sense of something... wrong... niggling, Mark had not noticed the increased snowfall covering the grounds. They covered the world in the arctic chill of winter, the game likely to be rough.
Taking the usual route, he passed the main building for the second time, taking a right turn for a few minutes before entering the land of white and green. The sports complex was state-of-the-art, with multiple, sizeable grounds for various sports: Rugby, Cricket, and Football. Couple with that was an indoor section, covering everything from rowing to squash to tennis; it was, quite literally, the only thing Leicester University was known for.
As Mark approached one of the football fields, quite evident which to go to considering only one was not empty, he noticed the field was still green. No matter how much it snowed, how big the flakes were or how many fell, it did not impact the pitch surface, a strange sight.
'A technological marvel; truly.' He thought, impressed.
Spotting his friends, he moved towards them, slowing his pace to a casual speed.
"Well, I'll be damned; it seems Evan wasn't lying; he actually turned up." Shaq laughed, "Everyone was taking bets on the likelihood of you turning up."
The man turned towards his brother, towering over him; eyes gleaming.
"Come on, then, Amir. Pay up. You owe me a fiver; I told you he would come... you're not going to back out, are you?"
His brother, Amir, stubbornly resisted, complaining and muttering under his breath about his 'hard-earned cash'.
"Bro, come on." Amir begged, "I worked hard for that money; I was jokin' about the bet; why you always take things so literally, bro?"
"Ugh, how old is he again, Shaq?" Rob complained, "Nineteen? He sure doesn't seem like it. Bro this, bro that; he speaks like a delinquent or worse... an American."
"Oh, come on, Rob, there's no need for that. He's just a kid; he'll learn to speak normally. Give him a few years at uni."
"You guys do know I'm still fuckin' here, right?" Amir spat, incensed, "I ain't gonna accept this shit from you, posh prick. Thi-"
Mark massaged his brows, "Ok, ok, Amir; shut it. We're here to have fun, Rob, not fucking bicker over your dislike. Ugh, fuck sake... where's Evan? Don't tell me he's late again?"
"He's late again..." Shaq shrugged.
"I messaged him fifteen minutes ago, Master Robert." A male robot uttered, "Would you like me to send another?"
"Oh shit!" Shaq shouted, "Don't tell me you got the new Tayi phone?"
"The one with semi-intelligent AI?" Amir practically squealed, "That's so fucking sick, bro."
"Yes, yes, it's the third generation S-Phone." Rob waved them away, "My fiancé brought it as a gift; her father is on the Tayi board, after all. Although, I have been explicitly instructed to say that it is not semi-intelligent, just more autonomous, to make suggestions and the like."
"Not bad, Rob." Mark said, "Pretty cool; how much is it? Heard the news say that the cost wasn't determined."
He shrugged, "Ellie didn't mention. My father suspects it will cost upwards of a grand, but Tayi isn't keen on price-gouging. Apparently, prices are going down due to a breakthrough in AI chip creations or... something like that. She seemed a bit hesitant to say."
Amir glowered, "Upwards of a grand? Of course, you'd get it free, fuckin' posh boy. The rich get richer, and the poor get poorer."
"No, no. Amir shut the fuck up; Rob, don't respond to that." Mark butt in, "How about we get ready? The other team are already warming up, and we've wasted five minutes doing fuck all, obsessing over a phone."
"What about Evan?" Rob questioned.
"Fuck him, late bastard. Get ready; go do some stretches."
The four started to get ready, grabbing equipment and clothes out of their bags; Amir was the first to finish, rearing to go with the energy to run a marathon.
Look-wise, Amir was fairly similar to Shaq. The main differences came from their bulk and height, with Shaq being bigger on both fronts compared to his sibling. It was also the most probable reason Amir was disastrous at Rugby but fantastic at Football.
Once everyone had finished putting their equipment on, they huddled together as the wind howled at them, causing them to shiver and goosebumps to form.
"R-Right." Mark stuttered, "Just do your own thing, and we'll wait for Evan. I've... just seen Elise arrive, so I'm gonna have a word. I'll be right back!"
"Fucking hypocrite." Shaq guffawed.
Mark jogged to his bag, ignoring the jeers behind him as he picked out the gifts he had brought. He unceremoniously carried them towards Elise, who was likewise walking towards him.
"Oi, oi, Fitty." Mark flattered.
Elise cringed, "Never say that again, Jesus Christ."
"Sorry." He laughed, "I know it's cold and all, plus it's unfortunately snowing; I thought I'd show how much I appreciate you. Felt better on the way here, so a bit of a spontaneous decision."
He dumped the sweets into her handbag, shrugging at her playful frown.
"Mark... I'm not going to find anything now." Elise joked, "But, thank you. You really didn't need to; I came here for you, not the game. I'd come out in far colder conditions to see you, although I would prefer it if you would choose warmer days."
"Sounding pretty sappy, Elise. But I'll try my best... no promises, though. Anyway, I brought your favourite, that disgusting dark chocolate you always have. I also got you the same sweets you ate when you came over last time... my sweets."
Mark stared at the ground, mumbling the last two words as his face darkened. Elise laughed at his expression.
"Maybe you should hide them better. If Alice can find them, then I sure can as well. You know what they say: You snooze, you lose."
"Yeah... I've fuckin noticed. All my poor sweets, gone, just like that."
"Oh, you'll be fine. I'll get you some sweets for your birthday next week. And I promise I won't eat them either." She giggled, "Anyway, get going. Looks like Evan's finally arrived; seems nothing has changed."
"Nothing ever does with Evan. Perhaps one day, an opportunity will arrive to change him."
Turning around, he jogged back towards his lads as Evan was the first to greet him.
"Ah! Mark! How nice of you to join us." Evan gruffly mocked, "I'm fifteen minutes late, yet I've still had more of a warm-up than you. Seems like an abject lack of passion; so disappointing."
"Shut up, prick. I had a warm-up walking here, fucking bus delays."
"Yeah, yeah. We get it; you didn't want to warm up when you've got a pretty lady to give gifts to. Ooo, so romantic, Mark."
The rest snickered as Mark grimaced.
"At least I've been laid this year, Evan. When was the last? Two years ago?"
Amir stumbled as everyone burst out laughing, Evan's mouth agape.
"Right... fuck you, Mark. Fuck you." He cursed, "Fuck... that one stung a bit. At any rate, how about you actually get warmed up; it'd be bad if you pulled a muscle."
"Yeah, yeah. Suppose pulling a muscle would be pretty bad, can't be interrupting what I've got later. Not like you got that problem." Mark smirked.
"Honestly, you're a cunt." Evan sighed, "Get jogging."
Finally ending their banter, Mark started his routine with experienced movements and common stretches. The group jogged across the pitch as the blood rushed through their veins, ending within five minutes and meeting into a huddle.
"Everyone remember their positions?" Evan spoke, "Five-a-side game, so don't put too much effort into it. In case you've forgotten, Mark in goal, Shaq in front of him, me and Rob in the midfield and Amir upfront. Still good with everyone?"
"Don't worry, bros." Amir said, "I'll win this for you lot, easy."
Evan shook his head, "In that case, let's win this game and show these shit bastards how Leicester Uni lads do things."