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Breaking News



Roman Forster, the older brother of Seattle Thunder player Reese Forster, has died. Medical personnel found his body early this morning after responding to a 911 call from his hotel room. Sources indicate he died from an overdose.

Roman Forster had been recently released on bail for pending sexual assault charges. Though estranged from his younger brother, Reese Forster, Roman had indicated in interviews that he wished to make amends. A source close to the family reports that a history of alcoholism and addiction has played a part in their estrangement. It’s also reported that Reese Forster is estranged from his mother and father.

A spokesperson for Reese Forster had no comment when we reached out.

The Seattle Thunder is scheduled to play the Chicago Chasers this evening. It’s not been reported whether Forster will be playing.

We’ll be following this story as more details develop.





The call came at three that morning.

They asked Reese where he was, and told him to stay put.

The first knock came thirty minutes later, and Stan and Juan came into Trent’s apartment. Unshed tears glistened in Juan’s eyes, though Stan barely blinked when they walked past me. I saw him wiping his eyes in the kitchen corner later on.

The phone rang over and over after that. Stan took some of the calls. Juan talked to the coach, but after an hour of being beside Reese, Juan bunked down in Trent’s guest bedroom.

Reese couldn’t take time off, so they made the best decision they could. I found extra bedding for Stan, who said he’d sleep on the couch. I changed the bedding in Trent’s guest room as well, but Juan insisted on having us use Trent’s main room. He said we might need privacy and the bathroom was attached. Plus, this was my friend’s place, so that was that. We lie in bed until Reese’s alarm went off.

He turned it off, but didn’t move.

I didn’t have to ask if he’d gotten any sleep. He hadn’t. We’d both lain in bed, and I’d held him as tears slipped down his face.

A soft knock came an hour later, and Juan stuck his head in. There were heavy bags under his eyes. “I’m heading back to be with the team. Coach called, said you weren’t answering your phone. You want anything special from us?”

Reese sat up on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, his head in his hands. “Nah. Thanks, man.”

“Yeah.” Juan’s gaze met mine over Reese’s head. “You need anything?”

I shook my head, my hand resting on Reese’s back, moving up and down, comforting. “I’ll call if I think of anything.”

“Uh…” He cleared his throat. “I heard the team is moving hotels tonight. The lobby was flooded with fans, so I’ll grab all your stuff. Marie said she was flying in. She’ll handle it all, bring your stuff wherever you end up.”

“Have Marie give it to Stan. I’m sure we’ll fly out of here tonight. He’ll make sure it’s all on the plane.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Thanks, man. Means a lot.”

My eyes closed. Reese’s voice was hoarse, and I could feel the emotion in him. I blinked back a tear of my own, my strokes growing firmer as I rubbed over Reese’s back.

Someone knocked on the apartment door.

Reese looked up.

Juan glanced over his shoulder.

We heard muted footsteps, then the door opening and low murmurs.

Juan looked back. “It’s Coach.”

Reese sighed, running a hand over his face. “Tell him I’ll be out. Gotta dress quick.”

“Will do.”

After Reese got up and went in the bathroom, Juan said to me, “You’ll take care of him?”

“Always.”

He nodded. “Roman was a pain in the ass,” he whispered, “but Reese loved him. You love family whether they’re kind or not to you.”

Then he shut the door behind him, and I could hear him talking to someone on the other side.

Waiting for Reese, I slipped out of bed and grabbed some clothes—his sweatshirt, some leggings, and a pair of ballet slippers I’d grabbed at the last second. I sat on the edge of the bed until it was evident Reese wasn’t coming out anytime soon.

I crossed to the bathroom, knocking. I tried the handle. “Reese?”

He didn’t answer.

Opening the door, my heart broke. There was no other way to say it. He sat on the floor in his sweatpants by the toilet. His knees were up as he did his best to curl himself into a ball. His head was in his hands, and I didn’t think.

Going to him, I said his name once, sliding to my knees and moving right between his legs.

A sob left him, but he opened his arms. Crawling into his lap, I straddled his waist and wound my arms around him, pulling him close.

His hands balled into fists at my sides, and he cried.

There were no words. Not like this, when it’s raw and new and has the power to change you forever. Nothing could take it away or soothe it, and the only thing I could offer was knowing he wasn’t alone.

I brushed his hair back, kissing his forehead and whispering over and over, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Eventually I felt a presence behind us.

Twisting my head just enough, I saw Coach Winston at the door, looking utterly broken. Reese seemed oblivious. His tears kept falling, his head buried against me, and I just kept soothing him. I was doing the best I could.