"Red!" Rosette called out cheerfully when she saw him approaching the stadium entrance. They had agreed to meet outside before heading in together for the basketball finals.
For a moment, she thought he wouldn't make it — he'd been so busy lately, and she hadn't seen him in days.
"Is that Dranred?" she overheard a girl whisper behind her.
"Oh my gosh, it is! Even in simple clothes, he's still so hot!" another said, giggling.
Rosette smiled faintly. It wasn't surprising — wherever Dranred went, attention followed. Even without trying, he stood out; fame clung to him effortlessly.
"Let's go say hi," one of the fans said excitedly, pulling her friend along. Soon, a small crowd began to gather around Dranred, snapping pictures and asking for autographs.
Rosette sighed softly. "So much for my excitement," she murmured. "I can't really blame them. It's rare to see him here as a spectator. He used to be the one everyone came to watch."
She glanced toward the entrance, then back at the growing circle of fans. "Looks like it'll take a while."
"Let's go," a calm, familiar voice said suddenly beside her. A hand gently took hers, guiding her toward the gate.
"Wait—hey!" Rosette protested, tugging her hand back. The man turned to face her.
"Red?!" she gasped. "But—how did you—?" She looked past him toward the crowd outside, still busy surrounding someone who looked exactly like him.
"I came here to be with you," Dranred said, smiling faintly. "Did you really think I'd let them keep me that long?"
Her heart skipped. He's such a sweet talker... and he says things like that here of all places? she thought, trying to hide the warmth rising to her cheeks.
"Are you okay? Your face is red," Dranred said with concern, reaching up to touch her cheek.
The touch only made her blush deeper. She stepped back quickly, flustered, which only made Dranred chuckle. His smile widened as he watched her struggle to compose herself.
"C'mon, let's go," Dranred said with a smile, taking Rosette's hand again as they walked inside.
But instead of heading toward the main court, Rosette noticed they were going in another direction — toward the players' locker rooms.
"Um, Red?" she asked, puzzled.
Dranred stopped and turned to her, his expression suddenly serious. "There's something I need to tell you."
Rosette blinked, confused by his sudden change of tone. "What is it?"
"I didn't come here just to watch the game."
"Huh?"
"Didn't James tell you?" he asked. "Tonight isn't the first game of the finals. It's an exhibition match — the current All-Star team versus the retired All-Star players." He paused, meeting her gaze. "I'll be playing tonight."
"You'll be... playing basketball?" she repeated, still surprised.
"Yes," he said with a small grin. "I guess it just happened that way."
Rosette's eyes lit up. "That's great! No matter what sport you play, I'll be there to cheer for you."
Her bright smile caught him off guard. For a moment, he just stared, speechless. Then, with a quiet laugh, he reached out and ruffled her hair. "I knew you'd say that."
"So, you came."
The voice came from behind them. Dranred turned to see Drake, walking toward them with James beside him. Both looked ready for the game.
"I didn't believe it when they said you were joining the retired All-Star team," Drake said with a smirk. "But seeing you here... I guess it's true. I can't wait to crush you on the court."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "You've been throwing baseballs for months — do you really think you still have what it takes to be called the Shooting Star?"
Dranred's expression stayed calm. "Who knows."
"One thing's certain," Drake shot back. "You won't beat me tonight. The court's too small for the two of us. You should've stayed on the pitcher's mound."
He brushed past them, his laughter echoing down the hallway.
"At least some things never change," Dranred said, shaking his head. "He's still as loud as ever." He turned toward James, who was quietly watching Rosette.
"I invited her here," Dranred said evenly.
"I know," James replied, his tone unreadable. He glanced at Rosette. "Think you can find your way to the court on your own?"
"I'm not a kid, James. I can manage."
Even as she said it, Rosette could feel that familiar weight — the way everyone still treated her like someone fragile, someone who needed protecting.
"That's reassuring," James said with a faint smile. "Rosette, could you go ahead inside? I need to talk to him."
Rosette glanced worriedly between them. She remembered what she had told James — about her fears that Dranred might one day leave her. What if James said something harsh again?
"Relax," James said when he noticed her hesitation. "I'm not going to pick a fight."
Dranred chuckled softly. "Go on ahead. You already know where your seat is, right?"
"Stop treating me like a kid, geez." Rosette pouted, turning away. But before stepping off, she looked back at them again, her brow creased with concern.
"Just go!" both Dranred and James said at the same time.
Rosette blinked, then laughed. "You two are miraculously in sync."
They both smiled faintly as she walked off.
When she was gone, James's smile faded. "Looks like you have no plans of following what I said about staying away from my sister."
Dranred's eyes met his, steady and calm. "I wouldn't do that just because you told me to."
"You're stubborn."
"I could say the same about you."
James sighed, then asked, "You're leaving for the majors?"
Dranred hesitated, surprised by the question. "That's the dream… but I haven't decided yet."
"And what about her?" James's tone sharpened. "Sooner or later, you'll have to leave. It's better to stay away now before she gets hurt even more."
Dranred's voice hardened. "Whatever I decide, I won't let Rosette get hurt."
James's eyes narrowed. "Don't just say it — prove it. Because I won't stand by and watch another one of my sisters cry because of you."
Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving Dranred standing there, silent.
Dranred exhaled slowly, watching James disappear down the corridor.
He's not wrong, he thought. I know what he's afraid of — losing her again, like before.
He looked down at his hands, the same hands that had carried both his dreams and his guilt.
But this time, I won't run. I won't let my dream or my fear take her away from me.
A faint smile crossed his lips — half sorrow, half resolve.
If I have to fight for both the game and her, then so be it.