Connor opened his mouth to respond, to instinctually defend his mates, but he closed it again. Stopped himself from making that mistake. Since it was a mistake after all, wasn't it? Some of the actions taken by his closest friends in recent weeks were completely indefensible. They were his friends, absolutely, but did he really know what the guys were capable of when the chips were down?
Hell, that was why the whole incident with Tyrell had taken up residence in his own mind in the first place - he did know what they were capable of when properly motivated. He wasn't altogether unashamed to admit that he'd inferred certain things to the guys at times throughout his high school career.
You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.
That had been the motto for the core of the football team, and it was an idea they'd stayed firm to. Almost. It brought his mind full circle back to why he'd originally stepped out on the roof in the first place. If you messed with one of us, you messed with all of us. So what happened when one of us messed with another one of us? It was circular logic, yet the idiosyncrasies of the situation were still causing him grief. Should Bret have paid Ivy more heed than he usually did? Yeah, probably. Should Wyatt have fucked Ivy? Hell no!
Should Connor himself have warned his friend off of his own ex-girlfriend?
There it was. His own culpability. The reason he felt so shitty about it all. He could have vehemently warned Bret away from her. He knew exactly what kind of person Ivy was. Pitiable at times, yes, but social poison. The brothers might have gotten past it - hell, he still wasn't sure, but she would always be able to lord that over all three of them. It would always be a chip to her, currency to use at an opportune time. The thought set his jaw and his teeth pressed against one another.
Ivy Langley was a venomous cunt, and Connor would never forgive her for what she had done to his friends.
Which again, drew him back to the real world, to what Erika had expressed. Her concerns, her fears. He had been about to dismiss them, but the fact of the matter was that she had a point. It was actually quite kind of her for what she said about his own character. Through all of his practiced qualities, he was glad that some of himself still shone through. No matter the lessons about leadership or character, he always had believed since he was a young child that people were inherently good until they proved otherwise, and even then - sometimes they just needed a hand to show it.
If nothing else, he would always believe that. He had to.
"I wish that I could say you're wrong, but the truth is," his breath decompressed from his chest in a sigh, "I don't really know."
There it was again.
"Wyatt and Bret; Ace, moustache Jeff, heck - even Ross or Jonah or Bryan or even that weird science kid with the glasses - whatever his name is. Any of those people; most people around school, I don't think they'd react poorly."
He'd picked people out of his mind; some friends, some acquaintances - some people he'd never even spoken to once. But people who he felt to be good, even if they were misunderstood.
"Y'all know; I'm not sure what goes on in people's minds. But for the most part, Erika? I have to believe that the people we're here with are good. Sure, you got some real stinkers in the crowd, but we ain't our parents generation." Connor's thoughts went toward his parents. How would his father or mother react to a transgender son or daughter? He didn't know. He'd never considered it.
"Would Wyatt Carter be a perfect gentleman if he found out you were transgender? God's honest truth? Probably not. He's a loudmouth. He calls people," Connor paused, grimacing at his word choice, "faggots more than should be said in pleasant conversation. But would he go after you because of who you are?"
Connor shook his head softly, though shrugged as well. He could feel the picnic bench against the middle of his back. It was uncomfortable, though he didn't mind feeling that way.
"That ain't who he is. Much like I'd bet that Tyrell wouldn't really do what he did unless he had a good reason, you follow? At least, that's how I see it. There will always be the outsiders, the ones who don't follow what's right."
He pursed his lips and leaned forward.
"But the ones y'all have to worry about; the ones who are really bad? It'll be the ones you don't see coming. Most of the worst folks I've ever met were the ones that weren't bad until I took a good, long look at 'em." Ivy's face flashed in his mind.
Straightening up, Connor tried to reestablish at least a bit of his veneer. He stuck a finger out at Erika, and gave her a wry smile.
"I tell you something, though," he jabbed the finger in her direction, "anyone messes with you from here on out, they won't just have Tyrell to worry about. They'll have to answer to me."
Connor wasn't sure if it was any solace to Erika, but he hoped that she understood the gesture. If nothing else, he hoped that she could just learn to be who she was meant to. Much like Connor had always aspired to become the man that he knew he would. A slight breeze washed over the roof as he felt the tension slowly release from his shoulders.
"Trust is a hard thing to come by. No disrespect to your man, but," Connor let a bit of levity slip back into his voice as curiosity got the better of him, "he's a bit of a scary-lookin' fellow. I'd have a hard time openin' up to him. What happened, someone went and let him down some?"
A Minute To Breathe
Tagging Cactus
She didn't really want to believe it, but Connor might've been right. It was refreshing to hear his take on those people. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe Erika was too kind, to understanding of perspectives outside of her own to see through what could've been bullshit. She had a gut feeling that he was probably right. It didn't mean that she'd made a wrong decision to keep secret about things all these years. To never join the GSA, or try to say something when someone decided to make their opinion on the "bathroom debate" known.
It would've been a lot more stressful. Maybe too much.
It brought to mind the impossible figure she'd never really know, and didn't care much to try and calculate - the precise weight and cost of all of the weed she'd smoked over the years just to make the anxiety go away. It was hard to imagine what that imaginary, insane number might've been if she'd fucked up and let things slip from the get-go.
It's been nice to do that just for fun, instead of some kind of necessity.
She clenched her jaw at the mention of what Connor assumed to be the "real" bad people. She knew exactly who he was referring to, but Ivy's face wasn't the one that came to her mind when he'd spoken. Her expression was stony as Connor straightened up.
What the fuck is the right thing to do here? This shit isn't normal. You can't just sit on something like this.
It was funny to see Connor switch gears. There was something about guys who'd saw themselves as the good ones - they always had to prove it, or say so out in the open. She supposed that wasn't the worst thing in the world, given what she'd been led to expect all this time. Though she offered a good-natured laugh at his comment, she couldn't help but remain preoccupied with what he'd said before.
"Thanks Connor. I think at this point... things'll probably be fine. I dunno. I guess this wasn't as bad as I expected."
There was someone among their class who was a predator. He'd victimized someone once and now - what, they were waiting for someone to just go ahead and do the right thing? Connor had just stated he'd stand up for Erika if anyone caused her harm. Who was going to stand up for the person Lorenzo had assaulted? Sure it was secondhand knowledge, but did that make her any less of a bystander? Much as she was able to laugh at Connor's statement, she couldn't help but recall making similar comments before when people had voiced their own concerns about their safety before Swiftball or Prom.
As he'd done in his own particular way, Connor managed to greatly undersell the gravity of the situation. It would've been pretty out of place now to leave out the truth, after what she'd just confessed to him.
"Yeah. Let him down would be one way to put it."
Erika stood up, brushing off her pants and leaning against the high concrete barrier of the rooftop. She took a far less casual tone than she normally did. This wasn't something she had the nerve to joke about.
"Look, I'm only telling you this because I'm honestly not sure what to do here. Ty was gonna tell everyone, but I convinced him not to. Not before we'd figured out what to do. I still don't really know, but I think letting the person who did this dictate the narrative is a bad idea. At this point Ty's kind of just waiting for the trip to end so he can figure out a way to hurt this guy. And honestly?"
She shook her head. It wasn't something she would readily admit. An ugly truth.
"I'm the only one that can stop Ty from doing that, and I have half a mind not to given what this piece of shit did. I think you'll get why when I tell you. It's... about Lorenzo."
As clearly as she could, Erika told Connor all she knew.
It would've been a lot more stressful. Maybe too much.
It brought to mind the impossible figure she'd never really know, and didn't care much to try and calculate - the precise weight and cost of all of the weed she'd smoked over the years just to make the anxiety go away. It was hard to imagine what that imaginary, insane number might've been if she'd fucked up and let things slip from the get-go.
It's been nice to do that just for fun, instead of some kind of necessity.
She clenched her jaw at the mention of what Connor assumed to be the "real" bad people. She knew exactly who he was referring to, but Ivy's face wasn't the one that came to her mind when he'd spoken. Her expression was stony as Connor straightened up.
What the fuck is the right thing to do here? This shit isn't normal. You can't just sit on something like this.
It was funny to see Connor switch gears. There was something about guys who'd saw themselves as the good ones - they always had to prove it, or say so out in the open. She supposed that wasn't the worst thing in the world, given what she'd been led to expect all this time. Though she offered a good-natured laugh at his comment, she couldn't help but remain preoccupied with what he'd said before.
"Thanks Connor. I think at this point... things'll probably be fine. I dunno. I guess this wasn't as bad as I expected."
There was someone among their class who was a predator. He'd victimized someone once and now - what, they were waiting for someone to just go ahead and do the right thing? Connor had just stated he'd stand up for Erika if anyone caused her harm. Who was going to stand up for the person Lorenzo had assaulted? Sure it was secondhand knowledge, but did that make her any less of a bystander? Much as she was able to laugh at Connor's statement, she couldn't help but recall making similar comments before when people had voiced their own concerns about their safety before Swiftball or Prom.
As he'd done in his own particular way, Connor managed to greatly undersell the gravity of the situation. It would've been pretty out of place now to leave out the truth, after what she'd just confessed to him.
"Yeah. Let him down would be one way to put it."
Erika stood up, brushing off her pants and leaning against the high concrete barrier of the rooftop. She took a far less casual tone than she normally did. This wasn't something she had the nerve to joke about.
"Look, I'm only telling you this because I'm honestly not sure what to do here. Ty was gonna tell everyone, but I convinced him not to. Not before we'd figured out what to do. I still don't really know, but I think letting the person who did this dictate the narrative is a bad idea. At this point Ty's kind of just waiting for the trip to end so he can figure out a way to hurt this guy. And honestly?"
She shook her head. It wasn't something she would readily admit. An ugly truth.
"I'm the only one that can stop Ty from doing that, and I have half a mind not to given what this piece of shit did. I think you'll get why when I tell you. It's... about Lorenzo."
As clearly as she could, Erika told Connor all she knew.
Connor was a little taken aback by how quickly Erika's tone turned as he cycled the conversation back to her own reason for seeking solace on the roof. The conversation had covered a lot of ground, and hadn't been one that was trite in any manner; not as long as they'd been sitting alone out here. Yet this was something different, something innately more serious than even Erika's own concerns regarding her identity and her own safety.
So instantly, he sat up straighter, curiosity piqued.
As Erika explained her own conundrum, Connor nodded along, listening intently. Tyrell Lahti wasn't one to take a soft touch for anything, so to have Erika so conflicted about allowing him to take some form of retribution toward someone for some sort of heinous action seemed very out-of-character and attributed the appropriate gravity to what he was about to hear.
And finally, Connor had a name. He scrolled his memory and came up with a face rather quickly.
"Lorenzo... that's- green hair, piercings, yeah?"
Nothing to do with his lifestyle choices, but Lorenzo wasn't exactly the kind of person Connor would ever be caught dead hanging around. He tended to frequent the areas of the school that attracted the miscreant element of the student body - with apologies to Erika; folks like Tyrell - and not the gymnasiums, school council offices or places that Connor often found himself. Still, he was a familiar face, usually for more of the wrong reasons than the right ones.
Intrigued, he leaned forward and listened as Erika spoke.
His intrigue slowly turned to abject disgust, the levity having abandoned the rooftop along with the breeze. By the time she was finished explaining the situation and filling him in on the details, Connor was standing to his full 6'5", arms crossed in front of his chest, fists clenched. The frown he wore was usually reserved for the rare situations that involved someone deserving some form of punishment that went beyond that of what was legal.
Lorenzo Tavares had committed the ultimate crime.
They had a rapist in their midst.
Connor huffed as Erika finished her debrief, shaking his head, deeply unhappy at what he'd heard. For all of his practiced qualities and all of the lessons that he'd learned from his parents, he had been taught the meaning of consent at a very early age. His mother would later explain to him all of the instances in which college athletes had thrown promising careers or lives away because they couldn't keep their dick in their pants and they didn't know that no actually meant no. If he were being honest with himself, that justification for the lesson had always rubbed him the wrong way. Everything was always a lesson, something to use later.
Wasn't it enough that it was wrong to force yourself upon someone? His words were laced with venom and before long, he was snarling angrily.
"That no-good little shit. He ought to catch an ass-whipping. Tyrell might be right; some people need to be made aware that they reap what they sow. Hard to do much of anything in the summer when your legs don't work. I'd bet that I know a fe-"
Connor caught himself before he escalated to yelling and cut himself off again.
He took a deep breath and centred himself. Of course. It was easy to go ahead and want to bash Lorenzo's face in; arrange for an incident. Tyrell wanted to do it, Erika was obviously fuming about the matter, but conflicted all the same. His reaction was immediately to go to the boys and explain that there was something that needed taking care of. But was that the right thing to do?
You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.
That had always been the motto. Fuck with the core and you were going to regret it. Which was great when it came to the football field, or when it came to silly shit that happened in school, but this was honest-to-goodness, seriously life-altering stuff. Connor Lorenzen was the captain of the football team. He was the quarterback, the leader. The yearbook had done a four-page spread on the team and he had featured prominently in two of them. The student body had elected him as prom king. This was his school.
On the outside, he was the leader that he'd always fathomed himself to be. But on the inside - what was the right call? Erika was conflicted; Tyrell was not. That should have given him pause.
So it did; that pause allowed him to see the third option. The right option.
"That's not the way to go, is it?" Connor unclenched his arms and answered his own question. "Naw. It's too easy to go and solve all our problems with a cocked fist an' a rolled-up belt. What does that accomplish? Couple of welts might make us feel like we've done something, but what good is it?"
Connor chewed unconsciously on the inside of his lip for a moment, and let his shoulders sag.
"We're not the victims, Erika. Not you or I. Not Tyrell. There's some poor kid out there who's havin' a helluva time coming to terms with what happened to him." The thought saddened him. "Somethin' happens to Lorenzo, maybe it gets out what he did. Then everyone's gonna be askin' questions, lookin' for answers and all that. Poor kid ain't gonna have a choice in the matter."
You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.
That was the motto. Except this time, Connor knew that it had a broader meaning. You mess with one, you mess with all. Lorenzo had messed with someone; which as far as Connor was concerned, meant that Lorenzo had messed with him, too. Which meant that something had to be done about it.
"We need to figure out who he assaulted. Quietly. Be there for 'em. Lend them our support." Connor smiled with certainty. "We're good people, and we need to look out for our own."
He looked out into the Washington D.C. skyline. He felt awfully American right now, awfully patriotic. He was proud to live here; Americans looked out for their own. He would do the same. He would be a true leader; a man of the people.
"If this person wants us to let Lorenzo be, then we let Lorenzo be. If they want to report it, we stand with them if they'll have us." He looked back to Erika with certainty. "And if they'd feel better knowing that Lorenzo was heading off to university with something to remember us all by?"
Shrugging, Connor left the words unsaid hang in the air. He was sure that Erika got the jist, but he didn't want to make any decision unilaterally. She had trusted him - with this, with so much more - he wanted to ensure they were on the same page.
"What y'all think about that plan of action? I'm just not sure it's our decision to make."
So instantly, he sat up straighter, curiosity piqued.
As Erika explained her own conundrum, Connor nodded along, listening intently. Tyrell Lahti wasn't one to take a soft touch for anything, so to have Erika so conflicted about allowing him to take some form of retribution toward someone for some sort of heinous action seemed very out-of-character and attributed the appropriate gravity to what he was about to hear.
And finally, Connor had a name. He scrolled his memory and came up with a face rather quickly.
"Lorenzo... that's- green hair, piercings, yeah?"
Nothing to do with his lifestyle choices, but Lorenzo wasn't exactly the kind of person Connor would ever be caught dead hanging around. He tended to frequent the areas of the school that attracted the miscreant element of the student body - with apologies to Erika; folks like Tyrell - and not the gymnasiums, school council offices or places that Connor often found himself. Still, he was a familiar face, usually for more of the wrong reasons than the right ones.
Intrigued, he leaned forward and listened as Erika spoke.
His intrigue slowly turned to abject disgust, the levity having abandoned the rooftop along with the breeze. By the time she was finished explaining the situation and filling him in on the details, Connor was standing to his full 6'5", arms crossed in front of his chest, fists clenched. The frown he wore was usually reserved for the rare situations that involved someone deserving some form of punishment that went beyond that of what was legal.
Lorenzo Tavares had committed the ultimate crime.
They had a rapist in their midst.
Connor huffed as Erika finished her debrief, shaking his head, deeply unhappy at what he'd heard. For all of his practiced qualities and all of the lessons that he'd learned from his parents, he had been taught the meaning of consent at a very early age. His mother would later explain to him all of the instances in which college athletes had thrown promising careers or lives away because they couldn't keep their dick in their pants and they didn't know that no actually meant no. If he were being honest with himself, that justification for the lesson had always rubbed him the wrong way. Everything was always a lesson, something to use later.
Wasn't it enough that it was wrong to force yourself upon someone? His words were laced with venom and before long, he was snarling angrily.
"That no-good little shit. He ought to catch an ass-whipping. Tyrell might be right; some people need to be made aware that they reap what they sow. Hard to do much of anything in the summer when your legs don't work. I'd bet that I know a fe-"
Connor caught himself before he escalated to yelling and cut himself off again.
He took a deep breath and centred himself. Of course. It was easy to go ahead and want to bash Lorenzo's face in; arrange for an incident. Tyrell wanted to do it, Erika was obviously fuming about the matter, but conflicted all the same. His reaction was immediately to go to the boys and explain that there was something that needed taking care of. But was that the right thing to do?
You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.
That had always been the motto. Fuck with the core and you were going to regret it. Which was great when it came to the football field, or when it came to silly shit that happened in school, but this was honest-to-goodness, seriously life-altering stuff. Connor Lorenzen was the captain of the football team. He was the quarterback, the leader. The yearbook had done a four-page spread on the team and he had featured prominently in two of them. The student body had elected him as prom king. This was his school.
On the outside, he was the leader that he'd always fathomed himself to be. But on the inside - what was the right call? Erika was conflicted; Tyrell was not. That should have given him pause.
So it did; that pause allowed him to see the third option. The right option.
"That's not the way to go, is it?" Connor unclenched his arms and answered his own question. "Naw. It's too easy to go and solve all our problems with a cocked fist an' a rolled-up belt. What does that accomplish? Couple of welts might make us feel like we've done something, but what good is it?"
Connor chewed unconsciously on the inside of his lip for a moment, and let his shoulders sag.
"We're not the victims, Erika. Not you or I. Not Tyrell. There's some poor kid out there who's havin' a helluva time coming to terms with what happened to him." The thought saddened him. "Somethin' happens to Lorenzo, maybe it gets out what he did. Then everyone's gonna be askin' questions, lookin' for answers and all that. Poor kid ain't gonna have a choice in the matter."
You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us.
That was the motto. Except this time, Connor knew that it had a broader meaning. You mess with one, you mess with all. Lorenzo had messed with someone; which as far as Connor was concerned, meant that Lorenzo had messed with him, too. Which meant that something had to be done about it.
"We need to figure out who he assaulted. Quietly. Be there for 'em. Lend them our support." Connor smiled with certainty. "We're good people, and we need to look out for our own."
He looked out into the Washington D.C. skyline. He felt awfully American right now, awfully patriotic. He was proud to live here; Americans looked out for their own. He would do the same. He would be a true leader; a man of the people.
"If this person wants us to let Lorenzo be, then we let Lorenzo be. If they want to report it, we stand with them if they'll have us." He looked back to Erika with certainty. "And if they'd feel better knowing that Lorenzo was heading off to university with something to remember us all by?"
Shrugging, Connor left the words unsaid hang in the air. He was sure that Erika got the jist, but he didn't want to make any decision unilaterally. She had trusted him - with this, with so much more - he wanted to ensure they were on the same page.
"What y'all think about that plan of action? I'm just not sure it's our decision to make."
Erika never found it easy to be the bearer of bad news, nor the person who'd bring down the mood in a conversation. Not that this wasn't important, but she felt bad for rousing so many negative emotions in Connor. Short of the few times she'd seen him play football (to the extent she was watching), she never saw Connor much more than level headed. To see him so incensed was jarring, though it was entirely warranted. She remembered her reaction on hearing about it quite well, and it ran the gamut of profanity and various threats on his life. In the end she'd come to the same conclusion, though.
Is this our problem to deal with?
Maybe, maybe not. She'd reached out enough on LGBTQ+ forums online that she'd come across numerous survivor's groups. Even talked a to a few people over Discord who were still reckoning with abuse they'd suffered - some recently, some many years prior. It wasn't something she understood on a personal level, but people had a habit of opening up to her. Erika liked to think that she had a pretty reasonable attitude towards these things. It was a combination of recognizing their pain and listening to it, and presenting different ideas and solutions that they might not have thought of or had access to themselves. More than anything it informed her a lot about the kind of mindset people who'd suffered from abuse tended to fall into.
Ty had certainly managed to fill her in quite a bit on what it had done to his psyche, much as he'd only become really aware of it himself. There was a reason he'd told everyone that he had a different story for everyone when it came to the scar across his face and the few of his teeth weren't real. It was the kind of thing that if Artem ever brought up in conversation, he'd refer to as some sort of vaguely terrible incident before doing everything possible to change the topic, because even thinking about it was painful, the words impossible to say.
So to have it be public knowledge, for people to ask about - even if it was out of genuine concern - would only cause more harm. This was something he'd have to deal with through some kind of professional help, or with only the closest confidants. It was hard to imagine how she could approach him about it. Given everything she knew about him, it would have to have been her. Though it was no fault of their own, she didn't think Connor or Ty would be the most calming presences for such a conversation.
It was at least reassuring that he wanted to do something about this. It was clear Connor felt he had to, out of some code of honour. Maybe it was a guy thing, not unlike how he'd reacted to the previous bombshell she'd tossed in his direction. Erika suppressed the uncomfortable feeling like he might've been trying to prove something. The tenor of the conversation itself had brought some level of anxiety back to her mind, and she had to remind herself not to assume anything past what she could verify.
He wants to help. This is not a normal situation, anyone's going to have an extreme reaction.
Both of them did seem to jump straight to how and when they'd beat the shit out of Lorenzo. For a moment she pictured Connor, Ty, Axel, and the Carters jumping Lorenzo by the Riverfront, some kind of twisted sequel to their prior skirmish. It was hard to suppress a chuckle, though a half-hearted one at that.
The answer to crimes is probably not more crimes. Probably. Hopefully.
Ty was even more focused on making Lorenzo answer for his crime. It was more about the betrayal and the feeling of having misjudged him than it was actually trying to help Artem. Ty's views on Artem's role in this were-
A little bit too cold.
She looked to Connor, shrugging slightly. "To tell you the truth, I do know who it was. I've gotten high with the guy a few times. We're not friends or anything, but I know who he's friends with. Stayed home this week, and I could guess why. So we could go talk to him, but like here's the thing-"
Erika paced back and forth as she spoke. It helped break this down, to work out the details.
"-someone being known as a rape victim has like, a lot of stigma. Obviously. Might be worse for guys, even. It's not just about the uncomfortable rep though. Fuck, like even if people care and wanna help, every time they try it's just gonna dig things up again. We could like legitimately help make this easier, for sure. My Mom's buddy-buddy with a ton of local cops, so like there's that. I know your Dad could probably pull a string or two for them to take this seriously too, but that's how many people who're gonna know about it? That many people this kid's gonna see look at him differently. Going to the cops is gonna be worse with all of the questions he'll have to answer, especially given how they'll probably treat a male victim."
She walked back towards Connor, lowering her voice slightly.
"I'm not saying we don't do something. It's not going to end with him if we don't act. Maybe Lorenzo thinks he's done something horrible, but if he really understood that then why the fuck would he rape someone in the first place? Like it's not fucking hard not to rape people, so if you're the kind of motherfucker to do it once I don't see why he'd stop there. Then the next time that'll be on everyone who knew about this and said nothing."
Dolly. They're like two peas in a pod.
"I think I who this guy would go to. If he's told anyone, he's told her."
Erika stared off into space. Connor was there, and she expected him to reply. To fill the silent gap she'd spent so many words trying to fill. It was as much about working out loud what she wanted to do about this as it was trying to explain it to him. Part of it was feeling bad she couldn't just give him a name. Despite his kindness and outwardly good nature, she couldn't help but feel like she had to restrain herself. Maybe Connor could keep a secret, maybe like Tyrell he'd have a hard time finding reasons not to deep-six that green-haired piece of shit.
I'm having trouble with that, myself.
Is this our problem to deal with?
Maybe, maybe not. She'd reached out enough on LGBTQ+ forums online that she'd come across numerous survivor's groups. Even talked a to a few people over Discord who were still reckoning with abuse they'd suffered - some recently, some many years prior. It wasn't something she understood on a personal level, but people had a habit of opening up to her. Erika liked to think that she had a pretty reasonable attitude towards these things. It was a combination of recognizing their pain and listening to it, and presenting different ideas and solutions that they might not have thought of or had access to themselves. More than anything it informed her a lot about the kind of mindset people who'd suffered from abuse tended to fall into.
Ty had certainly managed to fill her in quite a bit on what it had done to his psyche, much as he'd only become really aware of it himself. There was a reason he'd told everyone that he had a different story for everyone when it came to the scar across his face and the few of his teeth weren't real. It was the kind of thing that if Artem ever brought up in conversation, he'd refer to as some sort of vaguely terrible incident before doing everything possible to change the topic, because even thinking about it was painful, the words impossible to say.
So to have it be public knowledge, for people to ask about - even if it was out of genuine concern - would only cause more harm. This was something he'd have to deal with through some kind of professional help, or with only the closest confidants. It was hard to imagine how she could approach him about it. Given everything she knew about him, it would have to have been her. Though it was no fault of their own, she didn't think Connor or Ty would be the most calming presences for such a conversation.
It was at least reassuring that he wanted to do something about this. It was clear Connor felt he had to, out of some code of honour. Maybe it was a guy thing, not unlike how he'd reacted to the previous bombshell she'd tossed in his direction. Erika suppressed the uncomfortable feeling like he might've been trying to prove something. The tenor of the conversation itself had brought some level of anxiety back to her mind, and she had to remind herself not to assume anything past what she could verify.
He wants to help. This is not a normal situation, anyone's going to have an extreme reaction.
Both of them did seem to jump straight to how and when they'd beat the shit out of Lorenzo. For a moment she pictured Connor, Ty, Axel, and the Carters jumping Lorenzo by the Riverfront, some kind of twisted sequel to their prior skirmish. It was hard to suppress a chuckle, though a half-hearted one at that.
The answer to crimes is probably not more crimes. Probably. Hopefully.
Ty was even more focused on making Lorenzo answer for his crime. It was more about the betrayal and the feeling of having misjudged him than it was actually trying to help Artem. Ty's views on Artem's role in this were-
A little bit too cold.
She looked to Connor, shrugging slightly. "To tell you the truth, I do know who it was. I've gotten high with the guy a few times. We're not friends or anything, but I know who he's friends with. Stayed home this week, and I could guess why. So we could go talk to him, but like here's the thing-"
Erika paced back and forth as she spoke. It helped break this down, to work out the details.
"-someone being known as a rape victim has like, a lot of stigma. Obviously. Might be worse for guys, even. It's not just about the uncomfortable rep though. Fuck, like even if people care and wanna help, every time they try it's just gonna dig things up again. We could like legitimately help make this easier, for sure. My Mom's buddy-buddy with a ton of local cops, so like there's that. I know your Dad could probably pull a string or two for them to take this seriously too, but that's how many people who're gonna know about it? That many people this kid's gonna see look at him differently. Going to the cops is gonna be worse with all of the questions he'll have to answer, especially given how they'll probably treat a male victim."
She walked back towards Connor, lowering her voice slightly.
"I'm not saying we don't do something. It's not going to end with him if we don't act. Maybe Lorenzo thinks he's done something horrible, but if he really understood that then why the fuck would he rape someone in the first place? Like it's not fucking hard not to rape people, so if you're the kind of motherfucker to do it once I don't see why he'd stop there. Then the next time that'll be on everyone who knew about this and said nothing."
Dolly. They're like two peas in a pod.
"I think I who this guy would go to. If he's told anyone, he's told her."
Erika stared off into space. Connor was there, and she expected him to reply. To fill the silent gap she'd spent so many words trying to fill. It was as much about working out loud what she wanted to do about this as it was trying to explain it to him. Part of it was feeling bad she couldn't just give him a name. Despite his kindness and outwardly good nature, she couldn't help but feel like she had to restrain herself. Maybe Connor could keep a secret, maybe like Tyrell he'd have a hard time finding reasons not to deep-six that green-haired piece of shit.
I'm having trouble with that, myself.
Eyes widening a bit as Erika admitted to knowing even more about the situation than she'd initially let on, Connor couldn't fault her, especially not as she explained her reasoning. He found himself nodding along, his body language softening as they talked it out. So if this had been what was truly bothering her all along, Connor could understand why she'd have been so distracted enough to seek total solitude. Not to mention, she was right. People had the best intentions when it came to helping out for things like this, but really, all they would end up doing would be forcing whomever it was to relive the event, over and over again.
His brow furrowed a little bit, obviously frustrated. In his life, Connor Lorenzen was a doer. When something needed fixing, he got on it. When he had a goal, he set out and tried to accomplish it. Some people might have questioned his choice of girlfriends in the past, but he'd seen the good in both Ivy and Madison, where most other people hadn't. He'd always figured that if you'd given someone a chance and helped them step around their demons, everything would end up being okay.
Sometimes though, you can't fix everything.
"It's a real quick way to lose your identity, ain't it," he mused, his voice serious yet no longer possessing the fire that it had.
What really intrigued him was her omission regarding the victim's identity. He supposed that her knowing that detail made it all the more real, all the more frustrating to know what to do and what not to. Erika had obviously spent time looking into this, a fact that added to the respect that he was slowly developing for the girl. It was one thing to act, however misguidedly, to try and do the right thing but end up exacerbating a problem. Laying a beating down on Lorenzo was undoubtedly within that category. It would feel like justice had been delivered, but then what? Who did that exactly make feel better about it?
It was prison justice, essentially. The only issue was, they weren't in a prison.
"You're right about that, it ain't hard not to do bad things to people. Y'all just have to have a lick of control. A conscience."
Putting his hand over his chin, he tapped his finger on it, in thought. She was correct once more; doing nothing could potentially be as bad as going full biblical on the issue. The real answer was the sweet, soft spot in the middle. Where that was exactly would take some work to figure out.
"So maybe we- okay, maybe you reach out to this friend," Connor was conscious that Erika seemed to want to keep him at a distance, at least for the time being. "Explain to 'em that you want to help, but you want to act in the best interests of them, not anyone else. This doesn't need to become a thing, especially if they don't want it to be."
His hand fell away from his chin and he shrugged. Erika appeared deep in thought. This whole situation had obviously taken a toll upon her. Taking a step forward, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, trying to position himself in her sightline so that he wasn't coming off as threatening.
"I know I probably was the last person y'all expected to find up here. The last person you figured to talk to about all of this, but I'm glad you did. It's a hell of a burden to bear," he mustered a reassuring smile, "but you don't need to bear it on your own."
Connor knew that Erika wasn't truly alone with it. She had Tyrell - for whatever good he did, they were obviously close; involved - though Tyrell's reputation preceded him in most situations. He didn't believe that Tyrell was all that cognisant of the subtlety or care needed to deal with this situation. Connor himself had been infuriated off the bat, but he'd been able to talk himself down. How long had it taken Erika to do the same?
He removed his hand from her shoulder and walked over to the edge of the rooftop. The railing was lower on him than it was on most, but he looked out into the DC evening and sighed. His own problems seemed so very trite compared to this. Ivy's disastrous impact upon his social group meant nothing, in the long run. They would get over it, or it they wouldn't. Aside from Bret and Wyatt's relationship - which wasn't up to him to mend - there wasn't any real lasting repercussions. But this Lorenzo issue, it had further-reaching implications. It meant something. To Connor's surprise, he found himself caring far more about people he barely knew than the ones he considered himself close to.
In the end, this sure had been a trip, hadn't it?
His brow furrowed a little bit, obviously frustrated. In his life, Connor Lorenzen was a doer. When something needed fixing, he got on it. When he had a goal, he set out and tried to accomplish it. Some people might have questioned his choice of girlfriends in the past, but he'd seen the good in both Ivy and Madison, where most other people hadn't. He'd always figured that if you'd given someone a chance and helped them step around their demons, everything would end up being okay.
Sometimes though, you can't fix everything.
"It's a real quick way to lose your identity, ain't it," he mused, his voice serious yet no longer possessing the fire that it had.
What really intrigued him was her omission regarding the victim's identity. He supposed that her knowing that detail made it all the more real, all the more frustrating to know what to do and what not to. Erika had obviously spent time looking into this, a fact that added to the respect that he was slowly developing for the girl. It was one thing to act, however misguidedly, to try and do the right thing but end up exacerbating a problem. Laying a beating down on Lorenzo was undoubtedly within that category. It would feel like justice had been delivered, but then what? Who did that exactly make feel better about it?
It was prison justice, essentially. The only issue was, they weren't in a prison.
"You're right about that, it ain't hard not to do bad things to people. Y'all just have to have a lick of control. A conscience."
Putting his hand over his chin, he tapped his finger on it, in thought. She was correct once more; doing nothing could potentially be as bad as going full biblical on the issue. The real answer was the sweet, soft spot in the middle. Where that was exactly would take some work to figure out.
"So maybe we- okay, maybe you reach out to this friend," Connor was conscious that Erika seemed to want to keep him at a distance, at least for the time being. "Explain to 'em that you want to help, but you want to act in the best interests of them, not anyone else. This doesn't need to become a thing, especially if they don't want it to be."
His hand fell away from his chin and he shrugged. Erika appeared deep in thought. This whole situation had obviously taken a toll upon her. Taking a step forward, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, trying to position himself in her sightline so that he wasn't coming off as threatening.
"I know I probably was the last person y'all expected to find up here. The last person you figured to talk to about all of this, but I'm glad you did. It's a hell of a burden to bear," he mustered a reassuring smile, "but you don't need to bear it on your own."
Connor knew that Erika wasn't truly alone with it. She had Tyrell - for whatever good he did, they were obviously close; involved - though Tyrell's reputation preceded him in most situations. He didn't believe that Tyrell was all that cognisant of the subtlety or care needed to deal with this situation. Connor himself had been infuriated off the bat, but he'd been able to talk himself down. How long had it taken Erika to do the same?
He removed his hand from her shoulder and walked over to the edge of the rooftop. The railing was lower on him than it was on most, but he looked out into the DC evening and sighed. His own problems seemed so very trite compared to this. Ivy's disastrous impact upon his social group meant nothing, in the long run. They would get over it, or it they wouldn't. Aside from Bret and Wyatt's relationship - which wasn't up to him to mend - there wasn't any real lasting repercussions. But this Lorenzo issue, it had further-reaching implications. It meant something. To Connor's surprise, he found himself caring far more about people he barely knew than the ones he considered himself close to.
In the end, this sure had been a trip, hadn't it?
A light breeze gusted across the rooftop, and it felt nice to feel her hair blow in the wind. It was almost as if it was carrying away the stagnant air left by their conversation. She hung on Connor's words, joining him by the railing and looking out at the city.
"Thanks dude. I'll keep you in the loop either way. I'll admit, I meant to vent at the wind, but I guess you got the brunt of it."
It wasn't hard to just not do bad things to people, no. Certainly otherwise decent people were capable of doing wrong, there was no question about that. Her boyfriend certainly fell into that category, though his justifications for his actions weren't easy to argue with. That didn't make them right, but she understood where he was coming from. Whether or not he actually knew right from wrong was more of an issue than whether or not he'd choose to do what was wrong. Ty had a twisted sense of justice, but it was a sense of justice at least. He was trying to do better, and she knew he could. Not since she'd come out to him did she ever feel even slightly unsafe, or ill at ease.
Like sane people, Ty likes it when we both enjoy it. That makes it pretty fucking great, too. Go figure.
Doing something that terrible though? Supposedly by accident? Erika couldn't understand it. She always thought those "teach boys not to rape" posts online were condescending as hell. It was an obviously, distinctly evil thing to do in any conceivable circumstance. What kind of malicious idiot didn't know that? If that guy had a feeling it was a horrible thing to do, as he'd said, where was the self control to just not do it? Even if he wanted to do the right thing, who could trust he'd even try? Nothing about that could make someone like that worth spending a minute around.
Maybe I've thought about this enough. I don't need to be anxious about someone else's trauma. Just managed to get that other shit out of my headspace. There's a plan of action. Nothing to do now. Just move on.
She shook her head, after taking a moment to collect herself. Did it so her hair was really messed up and in her face. She blew a strand of hair away somewhat fruitlessly, before fixing it enough she could see the city. Surprisingly, President Canon's presence didn't induce an eerie fog throughout the entire city, so it was actually kind of pretty. For a place she wanted to see swallowed by the sea, it was a decent enough view.
Looking to Connor with her messy hair and a wry smile, then back to the city, she let her mind have its way with her words. If he hadn't backed away slowly into the hotel already, he could probably handle an Erika Ramble™.
"Well I dunno about you, but I'm glad to be done with this place. America. High School. If this part of my life was the proverbial lemons, I think at this point it's just a couple of peels, and the peel's getting kinda green and squishy. The lemonade's all gone. It was kinda sub-par, like that frozen slush that comes in the cans. Like, contrary to what most people seem to believe here, we're not the only free place in the world. S'just that there it's called Freiheit, and instead of guns and fast food it's healthcare, not being afraid of sex and having decent public transit. Plus I get to learn how to like, help stop climate change. I'll miss the guns though. I'm actually a huge gun nerd, I shoot comp and everything. Though that's a big secret you can't tell anyone."
At that quip, Erika burst out into a nervous chuckle. "That's me. Guns and saving the planet. I figure we'll need em both. So - where's your road lead to?"
She knew whatever it was, it couldn't be further from her plans. She didn't really know him. He could've had pretty much the opposite viewpoint on just about everything. Especially in this city, it was hard to imagine people from such different points of view ever having a calm conversation like this. Maybe on a surface level, there wasn't much common ground in their beliefs. Certainly not in what they thought was a valuable use of time in a career, or what the role of the government should or shouldn't be.
When it came to who they wanted to be, though - on that, they seemed to agree. They didn't want to be someone who was so capable of avarice as Ivy, or as disloyal and careless as Wyatt, or as malignant as Lorenzo. They both wanted to be the person who could help make things better. They both refused to give up on people everyone else had resigned to view as beneath them. More than anything else, Erika now realized how wrong she might've been to be so afraid all of these years. So often she forced herself to be optimistic, to fake it even if she didn't believe that the best possibility would be the one she'd see. With her relationship, with the climate, with her plans for Berlin. To see someone actually step up and be decent, someone whose identity checked every box she'd learned to avoid - that meant something.
Maybe one day, she'd run out of reasons to be afraid.
[Erika Stieglitz continued in Survival of the Fittest: Version 7]
"Thanks dude. I'll keep you in the loop either way. I'll admit, I meant to vent at the wind, but I guess you got the brunt of it."
It wasn't hard to just not do bad things to people, no. Certainly otherwise decent people were capable of doing wrong, there was no question about that. Her boyfriend certainly fell into that category, though his justifications for his actions weren't easy to argue with. That didn't make them right, but she understood where he was coming from. Whether or not he actually knew right from wrong was more of an issue than whether or not he'd choose to do what was wrong. Ty had a twisted sense of justice, but it was a sense of justice at least. He was trying to do better, and she knew he could. Not since she'd come out to him did she ever feel even slightly unsafe, or ill at ease.
Like sane people, Ty likes it when we both enjoy it. That makes it pretty fucking great, too. Go figure.
Doing something that terrible though? Supposedly by accident? Erika couldn't understand it. She always thought those "teach boys not to rape" posts online were condescending as hell. It was an obviously, distinctly evil thing to do in any conceivable circumstance. What kind of malicious idiot didn't know that? If that guy had a feeling it was a horrible thing to do, as he'd said, where was the self control to just not do it? Even if he wanted to do the right thing, who could trust he'd even try? Nothing about that could make someone like that worth spending a minute around.
Maybe I've thought about this enough. I don't need to be anxious about someone else's trauma. Just managed to get that other shit out of my headspace. There's a plan of action. Nothing to do now. Just move on.
She shook her head, after taking a moment to collect herself. Did it so her hair was really messed up and in her face. She blew a strand of hair away somewhat fruitlessly, before fixing it enough she could see the city. Surprisingly, President Canon's presence didn't induce an eerie fog throughout the entire city, so it was actually kind of pretty. For a place she wanted to see swallowed by the sea, it was a decent enough view.
Looking to Connor with her messy hair and a wry smile, then back to the city, she let her mind have its way with her words. If he hadn't backed away slowly into the hotel already, he could probably handle an Erika Ramble™.
"Well I dunno about you, but I'm glad to be done with this place. America. High School. If this part of my life was the proverbial lemons, I think at this point it's just a couple of peels, and the peel's getting kinda green and squishy. The lemonade's all gone. It was kinda sub-par, like that frozen slush that comes in the cans. Like, contrary to what most people seem to believe here, we're not the only free place in the world. S'just that there it's called Freiheit, and instead of guns and fast food it's healthcare, not being afraid of sex and having decent public transit. Plus I get to learn how to like, help stop climate change. I'll miss the guns though. I'm actually a huge gun nerd, I shoot comp and everything. Though that's a big secret you can't tell anyone."
At that quip, Erika burst out into a nervous chuckle. "That's me. Guns and saving the planet. I figure we'll need em both. So - where's your road lead to?"
She knew whatever it was, it couldn't be further from her plans. She didn't really know him. He could've had pretty much the opposite viewpoint on just about everything. Especially in this city, it was hard to imagine people from such different points of view ever having a calm conversation like this. Maybe on a surface level, there wasn't much common ground in their beliefs. Certainly not in what they thought was a valuable use of time in a career, or what the role of the government should or shouldn't be.
When it came to who they wanted to be, though - on that, they seemed to agree. They didn't want to be someone who was so capable of avarice as Ivy, or as disloyal and careless as Wyatt, or as malignant as Lorenzo. They both wanted to be the person who could help make things better. They both refused to give up on people everyone else had resigned to view as beneath them. More than anything else, Erika now realized how wrong she might've been to be so afraid all of these years. So often she forced herself to be optimistic, to fake it even if she didn't believe that the best possibility would be the one she'd see. With her relationship, with the climate, with her plans for Berlin. To see someone actually step up and be decent, someone whose identity checked every box she'd learned to avoid - that meant something.
Maybe one day, she'd run out of reasons to be afraid.
[Erika Stieglitz continued in Survival of the Fittest: Version 7]
Connor smiled as Erika joined him, leaning against the railing. Listening to people was an incredibly useful skill that he'd managed to pick up along the way. That in itself wasn't one that he'd had to practice or work on, either. It had just been a natural ability that had eventually come in handy - like so many others - on the football field. It was for things like being able to listen to a coach and understand what the meaning behind his words were, truly hearing a teammate when they were trying to get at something that they didn't want to say; understanding what to say to an opposing player to throw him off his game. Yet sometimes it was good to just sit here and truly listen to someone, allow them to speak and get whatever they needed to off their chest.
Erika had seemingly had a lot on her chest.
Nodding to her as she promised to keep him in the loop on the foul Lorenzo business, Connor wondered just how far this would all go. Erika had been correct, Connor's family had connections all over town. One word to his father about a serious situation and he could easily have a detective or at least a few uniformed officers sternly looking at the green-haired monster every chance they had. It would be very unfortunate if Lorenzo continued to suffer through traffic stops more than most, or if he found himself subject to random police checks. Maybe he didn't have to say anything for the mystery kid's sake. Erika could handle that on her own - hopefully with a firm hand and a gentle heart. Connor genuinely hoped that all of this got dealt with to a point that didn't end up in anyone else getting hurt any more.
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
It was interesting; there was a definite subsection of the school that Connor didn't really give a thought to. Before Tyrell had entered the orbit of Bret and Wyatt, he wouldn't have even been on Connor's radar. Yet, here was someone who was barely on his periphery, someone who was a very complex, caring and thoughtful individual, and just by having a conversation had made him fully invested in a situation that he had no stake in. As she started to muse on high school being like lemons, and peels and mushy fruit, Connor couldn't help but break out in a fast smile.
"Lemonade, huh?"
He allowed himself a hearty chuckle along at the ramble, though his eyes widened in surprise at her last big reveal. A very left-wing, liberal sort like Erika being a gun nut? That one took him a bit by surprise, and he turned to give her a faux, hands-up gesture.
"Your secret's safe with me, ma'am! I wouldn't dare risk gettin' both barrels, as the case may be."
Connor chuckled and winked at her. It felt good to be standing up here, in the cool breeze of the beautiful Washington night and truly getting to know someone who by all accounts, was a truly unique soul in herself. Joking aside, she posed the question to him. Where did his road lead? He knew the answer that he'd always given. Always the quest for glory, ever the sportsman Connor Lorenzen fancied himself. That wasn't the wrong answer, either. Ever since he'd been young, he'd been obsessed with the concept of playing professional football. He'd worked tirelessly to know how to act, how to conduct himself, how to train and how to play. He knew he would make it, given the opportunity. But was that what she was truly asking? Was that the answer he genuinely wanted to give her?
"Well I ain't aiming as high as saving the planet," he trailed off for a moment. Football was the easy answer. The right answer, as well. But was it the most right answer? "And I guess that everybody knows how serious I am about football. But when it all comes down to it?"
He took another moment to really think it over. An athletic career was great, but it wasn't eternal.
"When I get to that spot, to that point, I want to be someone who makes a difference. What good is fame and fortune if you can't make a difference?" He knew that firsthand. His parents were incredibly wealthy and were members of all the right charities, but what did they do? It was part of that why Connor had always wanted to make his own way in the world.
"Football was always something that I wanted just for me. I want to be the damn best! But I reckon that it's okay to have at least a few goals just for yourself. But this year, it's all made me think a little."
Erika had blessed him with a ramble of her own, and it seemed to be infectious.
"I've been lucky. Haven't had to deal with much," he shot her a knowing look, clear to state he wasn't gloating, "so it's given me a straight path. But what good is money, what good is fortune or fame if you can't use it to make things better for the ones who walk the crooked slope? My pop got so mad at me for wanting to walk my own path. He thought that it was better to do it his way, the easy way. Said I was just doin' it different to stick it to him. But that ain't it at all."
Saying it all out loud seemed to truly vindicate what he'd been feeling, also giving him a clearer view forward. His priorities had shifted, and maybe - just maybe - that had made him a better man.
"I don't wanna be Steven Lorenzen. I don't wanna be Tom Brady. I don't wanna be anyone else. I just wanna be me. Connor Tobias Lorenzen, at your service. I want to earn what I have. There's a time and a place to let yourself get a handout, I get that. Y'all be stupid not to sometimes." Connor looked down at the ground, far below.
"A lot of my life is based on legacy. What kind of legacy am I gonna build for myself, what are they gonna say about me when I'm gone?" He shrugged to Erika. "But what good is a legacy if it's only yours? If I can be the damn best and still manage to help a few folks out while I get there?"
Connor shot Erika a happy grin. It had felt like something had finally clicked within himself. He finally understood where his own sense of purpose came from, and he felt vindicated. This was right. It was who he was.
"I'd say that's a legacy to be proud of."
((CONNOR LORENZEN PREGAME CONCLUDED; CONTINUED IN SOTF V7))
Erika had seemingly had a lot on her chest.
Nodding to her as she promised to keep him in the loop on the foul Lorenzo business, Connor wondered just how far this would all go. Erika had been correct, Connor's family had connections all over town. One word to his father about a serious situation and he could easily have a detective or at least a few uniformed officers sternly looking at the green-haired monster every chance they had. It would be very unfortunate if Lorenzo continued to suffer through traffic stops more than most, or if he found himself subject to random police checks. Maybe he didn't have to say anything for the mystery kid's sake. Erika could handle that on her own - hopefully with a firm hand and a gentle heart. Connor genuinely hoped that all of this got dealt with to a point that didn't end up in anyone else getting hurt any more.
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
It was interesting; there was a definite subsection of the school that Connor didn't really give a thought to. Before Tyrell had entered the orbit of Bret and Wyatt, he wouldn't have even been on Connor's radar. Yet, here was someone who was barely on his periphery, someone who was a very complex, caring and thoughtful individual, and just by having a conversation had made him fully invested in a situation that he had no stake in. As she started to muse on high school being like lemons, and peels and mushy fruit, Connor couldn't help but break out in a fast smile.
"Lemonade, huh?"
He allowed himself a hearty chuckle along at the ramble, though his eyes widened in surprise at her last big reveal. A very left-wing, liberal sort like Erika being a gun nut? That one took him a bit by surprise, and he turned to give her a faux, hands-up gesture.
"Your secret's safe with me, ma'am! I wouldn't dare risk gettin' both barrels, as the case may be."
Connor chuckled and winked at her. It felt good to be standing up here, in the cool breeze of the beautiful Washington night and truly getting to know someone who by all accounts, was a truly unique soul in herself. Joking aside, she posed the question to him. Where did his road lead? He knew the answer that he'd always given. Always the quest for glory, ever the sportsman Connor Lorenzen fancied himself. That wasn't the wrong answer, either. Ever since he'd been young, he'd been obsessed with the concept of playing professional football. He'd worked tirelessly to know how to act, how to conduct himself, how to train and how to play. He knew he would make it, given the opportunity. But was that what she was truly asking? Was that the answer he genuinely wanted to give her?
"Well I ain't aiming as high as saving the planet," he trailed off for a moment. Football was the easy answer. The right answer, as well. But was it the most right answer? "And I guess that everybody knows how serious I am about football. But when it all comes down to it?"
He took another moment to really think it over. An athletic career was great, but it wasn't eternal.
"When I get to that spot, to that point, I want to be someone who makes a difference. What good is fame and fortune if you can't make a difference?" He knew that firsthand. His parents were incredibly wealthy and were members of all the right charities, but what did they do? It was part of that why Connor had always wanted to make his own way in the world.
"Football was always something that I wanted just for me. I want to be the damn best! But I reckon that it's okay to have at least a few goals just for yourself. But this year, it's all made me think a little."
Erika had blessed him with a ramble of her own, and it seemed to be infectious.
"I've been lucky. Haven't had to deal with much," he shot her a knowing look, clear to state he wasn't gloating, "so it's given me a straight path. But what good is money, what good is fortune or fame if you can't use it to make things better for the ones who walk the crooked slope? My pop got so mad at me for wanting to walk my own path. He thought that it was better to do it his way, the easy way. Said I was just doin' it different to stick it to him. But that ain't it at all."
Saying it all out loud seemed to truly vindicate what he'd been feeling, also giving him a clearer view forward. His priorities had shifted, and maybe - just maybe - that had made him a better man.
"I don't wanna be Steven Lorenzen. I don't wanna be Tom Brady. I don't wanna be anyone else. I just wanna be me. Connor Tobias Lorenzen, at your service. I want to earn what I have. There's a time and a place to let yourself get a handout, I get that. Y'all be stupid not to sometimes." Connor looked down at the ground, far below.
"A lot of my life is based on legacy. What kind of legacy am I gonna build for myself, what are they gonna say about me when I'm gone?" He shrugged to Erika. "But what good is a legacy if it's only yours? If I can be the damn best and still manage to help a few folks out while I get there?"
Connor shot Erika a happy grin. It had felt like something had finally clicked within himself. He finally understood where his own sense of purpose came from, and he felt vindicated. This was right. It was who he was.
"I'd say that's a legacy to be proud of."
((CONNOR LORENZEN PREGAME CONCLUDED; CONTINUED IN SOTF V7))