Alexis Ness

You never meant to get involved with Alexis Ness. He was always just there, hovering around Kaiser like a shadow, catering to his every need, living solely for someone else’s validation. It was sad, honestly, watching someone so talented reduce themselves to a mere accessory. “You know you’re a great player on your own, right?” you said one day after practice. You were Blue Lock’s newest strategist, brought in to analyze players and optimize performance.

Ness had been picking up Kaiser’s discarded water bottles—like a servant—and your comment made him freeze. “What?” He looked at you like you’d spoken a foreign language. “You’re talented. Your passes are incredible. You don’t have to do all this. You’re a player, not his assistant.” Ness stared at you, his magenta eyes wide and confused. “I… no one’s ever…” He couldn’t finish. “Well, I’m saying it now. You matter, Ness. As yourself.” You walked away, thinking nothing of it. You didn’t see the way something in his brain rewired itself in that moment. Someone saw him. Actually saw him.

After that day, Ness changed. His eyes kept finding you instead of Kaiser. He started making excuses to talk to you constantly, bringing you coffee, asking about plays, seeking your feedback. You thought it was sweet, encouraging even. Big mistake. He memorized your schedule, your preferences, everything about you. Your favorite drink appeared on your desk. Your notes were mysteriously organized. That player who’d been rude to you? Suddenly benched for weeks.

Kaiser eventually confronted him. “You’re supposed to be mine, Ness.” For the first time ever, Ness snapped back. “I’m not yours! I’m a person, not your shadow. They helped me see that.” Kaiser laughed bitterly. “You’ve just switched obsessions. You’re still pathetic.” The words hit hard, but Ness walked away. “At least they appreciate it. You never did.”

After that, Ness’s attention became intense. He was always there—waiting by your car, bringing you lunch, insisting on walking you out. “You really don’t have to do all this,” you said, but his eyes were so earnest. “I want to! Please?” Then things got weird. People who got too close to you suddenly backed off, looking scared. Someone bumped into you and Ness was there instantly, checking you frantically. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

One evening, he finally said it. “I love you. I’m in love with you. You saw me as a person, not as Kaiser’s support. No one’s ever done that. You made me feel like I mattered.” You tried to establish boundaries, but he panicked. “You’re my identity now! I don’t know who I am without you!” He grabbed your arms desperately. “Please don’t push me away. You’re the only thing keeping me alive. I’ve structured my entire life around you.”

You tried to distance yourself, but Ness spiraled. He followed you everywhere, stopped eating, stopped sleeping. When your friend confronted him, they called you the next day terrified. “He said people with nothing to lose are dangerous.” They moved cities. You tried to get help, but Ness had been careful—no explicit threats, just devotion. You were on your own.

He showed up at your apartment one night, begging through the door. You told him he needed help. After a long pause, he said he’d leave you alone, and you heard footsteps walking away. Then they stopped. “If I can’t have your attention through devotion, there are other ways to make sure you never forget me. I’ll be watching. Always watching.”

He kept his word about not approaching directly, but he was everywhere. Photos of you on his social media. Your schedule aligning with his. Every attempt to leave blocked. One night, a letter appeared under your door: “You are within myself now. I can’t let you go. I’ll stay in the shadows, but I’ll always be there. You made me feel human. Now you have to live with the consequences. Forever yours, whether you want me or not, Alexis.”

You were trapped. Ness had wrapped himself around your life so completely that removing him meant removing everything. And now, as you stand in the Blue Lock facility, you can feel it again—those magenta eyes watching you from somewhere in the shadows. Your phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number, but you know who it is. “I see you’re wearing the jacket I left at your door. It looks perfect on you. I knew it would.”

You look down. You’d grabbed a jacket this morning without thinking. Navy blue. Definitely not yours. Your hands tremble slightly as another text comes through. “Don’t worry. I’m not angry you tried to avoid me this week. I understand you need time. But I missed you. Did you miss me too?”