Benched for His First Love: My Return to the Mid Lane

The day Caleb Thornes high school sweetheart returned to the States marked exactly three years of me playing Support for him.

He told me to step aside and advised, Your macro awareness is just too poor. Riley is a much better fit for me.

Everyone in the league said that if it wasn't for Caleb, someone of my skill level would never have made it onto a pro roster. They said I was dragging him down.

And Riley? She was the one who actually had a chance to help him win the World Championship.

So, on the day I packed my bags and left, a friend asked him, "You're not going to go after her?"

Caleb just laughed it off, completely unbothered. "Let her learn her lesson. She'll be back."

Until one day, someone jokingly suggested they wanted to hear me grovel and apologize to him over the phone on speaker.

Uncharacteristically, Caleb agreed and dialed my number.

But the moment the call connected, a lazy, raspy male voice answered instead: "Shes in the shower.

"In... my room."

Rumor has it that Caleb shattered his wine glass right then and there, bolting from the banquet like a madman.

The day Calebs high school sweetheart flew back from the European circuit was exactly our three-year anniversary as a bot-lane duo.

He threw a massive welcome party for her at the team facility.

He invited everyone.

Except me.

He told me to stay in my room and "reflect on my mistakes."

Pop

Confetti cannons erupted in the living room downstairs. Every word drifting up the stairs was dripping with praise for Riley Mercer.

"You're a legend, Caleb! You actually managed to poach the top female Support in the West!"

"With Riley backing us up, next years World Championship is practically in the bag!"

"Cheers to the birth of our new golden bot-lane couple!"

Riley Mercer. The star female Support player.

She had a glowing track record and great mechanics. Though she hadn't secured a World title yet, the entire organization believed her addition would be the push Frost Wolves (FW) needed to break their bottleneck.

After all, everyone assumed that if I hadn't been dragging them down, the championship trophy would already be sitting on Calebs shelf.

Even Caleb himself had said it:

"Your macro awareness is just too poor, Chloe. Riley is a much better fit for me.

"Only Riley has the potential to help me win Worlds.

"Chloe, give up your starting roster spot."

......

Caleb knew exactly what a starting roster spot meant to a professional esports player.

Yet, when he heard me refuse, he just stared at me with cold, calculating eyes.

"Chloe, can you stop throwing a tantrum for once?

"Can't you be a team player? Just stay in your room and think about your attitude."

Because of that, when I walked out of my room and appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs, Calebs eyes flashed with the impatience of someone whose authority had been challenged. "What are you doing down here?"

Riley peeked out from behind him, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Caleb, who is this?"

"No one," Caleb frowned, his tone instantly softening to reassure her. "Just a substitute."

As he spoke, he subtly took a step forward, using his body to block my line of sight to Riley. It was a defensive posture, as if I were some kind of monster about to strike.

Just a substitute...

My hands balled into fists at my sides, a sharp, suffocating ache spreading through my chest.

Satisfied with Calebs answer, Riley let out a soft "Oh," then stepped out from behind him and enthusiastically extended her hand toward me.

She smiled. "Hi, I'm Riley Mercer. I'm FW's new starting Support."

Her smile was laced with condescension, and she made sure to heavily emphasize the word starting.

Looking at her bright, beautiful face, and then at Caleb standing in front of her with a warning glare fixed on me, my mind flooded with memories. I remembered the countless fights Caleb and I had after Riley announced her return to the States.

"Look at other teams' Supports, and then look at you!

"Chloe, why can't you just learn from Riley?

"If you had even a third of her game sense, we wouldn't have lost that last match!"

He had probably been planning to replace me for a long time.

Suddenly, the questions I had been agonizing over didn't need to be asked anymore. I already had the answers.

A strange sense of relief washed over me.

I had known Caleb for ten years.

Chased the esports dream with him for seven.

Dated him for five.

Fought alongside him on the professional stage for three.

I thought wed be partners forever.

I never expected the cord to snap this easily.

......

I raised my eyes and looked at Riley calmly.

"Hi, I'm Chloe Bennett. I'm nobodys substitute. As of this exact second, I am officially leaving FW."

The entire team house went dead silent.

Calebs head snapped toward me, his brows knitted in fury. "Do you even know what youre saying?"

His expression was dark. I knew exactly why he was furious. He was warning me not to test his patience.

If this were the past, out of respect for his position as Captain and to avoid causing drama for the team, I would have lowered my head and backed down.

But now...

"I've already spoken with upper management to terminate my contract."

I bypassed him, handing a stack of folders to Manager Davis. "These are all the signed release forms. Keep them safe."

"Chloe!"

Calebs sharp voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Think this through. If you leave me, what organization is going to want you? Do you have any idea"

"I know," I chuckled lightly, cutting him off. I shot a meaningful glance at Riley standing behind him and answered a question he hadn't asked. "Don't worry. I won't bother you anymore."

The subtext was clear: Were breaking up, Caleb. Im dumping you.

Calebs face turned an ugly shade of pale. He was so furious he practically gritted his teeth as he delivered his final warning:

"Im not going to tolerate your little temper tantrums this time, Chloe. If you walk out that door, do not regret it!"

He honestly believed this was just a bluff, that I would eventually crawl back and apologize like I always did.

The only answer he got was the sight of my back as I walked away.

In every single argument wed ever had, the conflict only ended because I was the "good girlfriend." Whether it was our synergy in the game or our dynamic in real life, Caleb had never compromised for me. Not even once.

So what was this about him tolerating me?

As I pushed open the front doors of the facility, I raised my hand to block out the blinding sunlight, walking away without a single ounce of hesitation.

Behind me, I could faintly hear the sound of something shattering violently against the floor.

......

After leaving the FW facility, I wandered the streets aimlessly for three days.

During that time, I reached out to numerous teams, but every single one of them gave me polite, evasive rejections.

It wasn't until a female manager from a mid-tier team took pity on me that I found out the truth. She called me privately and confessed that Caleb had already put the word out. He had blacklisted me across the league. No one was going to take me in.

After hanging up, I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white, eventually letting out a hollow, self-deprecating laugh.

So this was what he meant by "do not regret it."

Caleb came from old money. His family was rich and deeply connected. When he first started playing professionally, it was little more than a hobby for a bored rich kid. But as he started winning, that hobby evolved into a dream.

Even though more and more female players have been entering the esports scene in recent years, the mountain of prejudice still forces most women into the Support role.

The community loves to act magnanimous, patting themselves on the back for allowing a woman on the roster. But at the same time, they are incredibly stingy. They only feel comfortable placing women in roles they perceive as "low-impact."

Its an unspoken rule: everyone just assumes female players are biologically inferior to men when it comes to mechanical skill.

Theyd rather strip women of their infinite potential than trust them to carry the game.

Just like with Caleb and me. No matter what actually happened on the server, whenever we lost a match, the vitriol was always aimed at me:

"This is why girls shouldn't play. Why did they draft a female Support?!"

"Is she sleeping with the managers to keep her roster spot?"

"Go back to the kitchen, stop ruining our games!"

Not once did anyone question if Caleb made the wrong macro call.

Compared to other male ADCs in the league, Caleb faced almost zero criticism. And the only reason for that was because his Support was meand I happened to be a woman.

......

On the fifth day of my fruitless job hunt, just as I was starting to doubt whether I was truly cut out for esports, someone completely unexpected showed up.

Captain of Ghost Town (GT) and FWs biggest rival.

Hunter Vance.

Before I could even process what was happening, he casually greeted the owner of the local burger joint, grabbed two cans of soda from the cooler, and slid into the booth across from me. He cracked one open with one hand, slid it over to me, and lounged back, sipping from the other.

He looked so relaxed youd think he was nursing a cold beer on a beach.

I just stared at him, totally bewildered.

Seeing me frozen, he lazily lifted an eyebrow. "Our org bans alcohol during the season."

He paused, frowning slightly. "Did you want a beer? I mean, I can pay the fine if we get caught..."

He muttered something else under his breath that I didn't catch. The whole situation felt absurd.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Hunter and I werent exactly friends, but we weren't strangers either. As opponents, wed nod at each other backstage and shake hands after matches. That was the extent of it.

But I knew his reputation. Just like Caleb, he was the face of his franchise. A superstar. But where Caleb played the gentle, polished nice guy for the cameras, Hunter had a very different label: "A serious face hiding a totally chaotic, trash-talking esports bad boy."

And he had a venomous tongue.

Just like right now.

He set his soda down, looking at me with a half-smile.

"Unemployed? Packing up to go work on a farm?

"Getting too old? Hands too slow?

"Honestly, watching you and Caleb play the bot lane... I could scatter birdseed on my keyboard, and a pigeon would have better movement than you two."

Me: "......"

And here I thought he came to comfort me.

Hunter seemed to read my mind. He scoffed, giving me a side-eye. "What are you expecting? Im not that fake nice-guy Caleb, playing to the cameras and running a charity."

Me: "......"

In the span of thirty seconds, he absolutely verbally dismantled me.

It was a stark reminder of why pro players are often called "keyboard warriors."

I tried to argue back at first, but eventually, I was reduced to just nodding aggressively like a turtle, deeply agreeing with his roast.

Hunter found this highly amusing. He laughed and muttered, "Useless."

Then, he pulled an unlit cigarette from his pocket, held it between his lips, and asked me with the casualness of discussing the weather: "Hey, loser. Wanna join our team?"

I nodded numbly, taking a solid ten seconds to process the words before my head snapped up. I stared at him in utter shock. "W-what did you just say?"

My heart started hammering against my ribs.

I was terrified. Terrified that he was just mocking me in my lowest moment, but also terrified that my own cowardice would make me miss this lifeline.

I nervously fumbled for words. "B-but your roster is full, isn't it?"

GT was a stacked roster. They didn't even need substitutes.

"Management is making some roster changes," Hunter said smoothly.

He picked up his soda again. But when he met my wide, panicked eyes, he slowly set it back down.

He ground his teeth. "What is that look? Give me a straight answer. Yes or no. Or Im taking the offer off the table."

He looked incredibly annoyed, like a dad scolding his disappointing kid.

But I didn't care. The only words that registered in my brain were taking the offer off the table.

Instinctively, I lunged forward and grabbed his hand across the table, shouting, "I'm in! I'm in! Please don't take it back!"

My yelling earned us some weird looks from the other tables.

Hunter just stared down at where my hands were gripping his for a solid thirty seconds. Then, he cleared his throat awkwardly and muttered, "Keep it down."

Thinking he was disgusted by the physical contact, I quickly pulled my hands back and sat up perfectly straight.

But as I followed him out of the diner and walked behind him toward the GT team house, I noticed the back of his neck was violently red.

Hunter reached up, rubbed the back of his neck, and cursed under his breath, "Damn heat. It's too hot today."

......