“Look, DeShawn,” I begin. I don’t know where to fucking start, to be absolutely honest. For once in my entire life, I have nothing to say and don’t know what to do.
I’ve been hit with media blows before. Hell, you don’t become the most motherfucking badass payer in the NFL without some scandals.
But I always knew those scandals were making my rep in a way, you know?
Like fucking look at me, I just banged this hot piece of ass. Now another. Now another.
It didn't really matter to me what was happening to them because I was just doing whatever I wanted to. I was going for a ride and they were each getting their 15 minutes of fame.
At least that’s what I thought until the tables turned and now I’m being trampled on by the same fucking press.
I sigh again as DeShawn looks at me, waiting for me to complete my sentence.
“I don’t have any excuse for my actions man,” I say loud enough that the people around me can hear.
Every fucking eye is on me. I can fucking tell I’m under the microscope.
Add to that, Coach Karl comes out and he’s standing on the far end of the room.
It’s like the entire group now is using DeShawn to speak for them.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I deserve whatever the fuck happens to me,” I say. Then I sign and run my hands through my hair. Those golden fucking locks that used to get the panties wet. “I’m a total fucking jackass, man.”
If you’re wondering why I’m apologizing man, then let me break it down for you.
These are my brothers.
I did something intimate with Ethan in the one place that we hold sacred. The arena where we perform. For it to be splashed on national television and the brand that we play under to be tarnished because of actions that I partook in is entirely worthy of a fucking apology.
I didn’t realize that before. But I do now. It’s just probably too late.
DeShawn looks at me for a long moment and I can tell he’s looking and evaluating what he’s going to fucking say to me. I wonder how he’s going to start screwing the knife in. I’ve never been a jackass to him - but I’ve never gone out of my way to be nice either.
Fuck.
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After what seems like fucking forever, DeShawn sighs.
He looks towards the television. I look over too. I’m stroking Ethan’s cock with my hand.
Fuck. This. Shit.
“Man, change the fucking channel off if they just gonna be broadcasting garbage all day,” DeShawn says and walks over to the table and picks up the remote. He points it and changes the channel.
It’s the Nightly News. And I’m jerking Ethan off.
He switches it to MTV.
I’m jerking Ethan off.
He switches it to Cartoon Network.
You don’t even wanna fucking know.
Finally, DeShawn just turns the entire thing off.
He looks at me. “I used to think you’re a prick man,” he says. I remain silent. I can’t fight back. “Walking around here with that whole ‘Colt fucking Stackford’ shit. You’re an assbag!”