The crowd roared so loudly that the arena itself seemed to tremble. When the announcer finally revealed the night's special match, every fan in the stands was on their feet, waving banners and shouting names that echoed off the walls. But when the name Dranred filled the air, the cheers turned thunderous — almost deafening.
The players from the national baseball team, seated together near the court, stared around them in awe. They knew Dranred was once a famous basketball player, but they never imagined he'd be this revered — his fame still burning brighter than ever.
"That punk," Drake hissed through clenched teeth, watching the crowd lose their minds. The sound of their cheers was too familiar — too much like the finals from a year ago. Before he ever got his revenge, Dranred had retired, leaving him hanging in the shadow of a rivalry that never ended. "Let's see if they'll still be screaming his name once they realize their Shooting Star has already burned out."
The whistle blew. The match began.
From the start, the All-Star team led an aggressive offense. Drake moved with precision and power, scoring the first few points that sent his fans into a frenzy. It was as if he wanted to remind everyone whose court this truly was.
But just as his team began to pull ahead, Dranred received the ball at the arc. In one fluid motion, he leapt, released, and the ball sliced through the air — a perfect three-pointer. The arena erupted again. That single shot marked the beginning of their counterattack.
From that moment, everything changed.
Dranred's team moved as if they'd been playing together for years — passing the ball with flawless rhythm, defending with sharp intuition. Each time Dranred made a play, the crowd's energy climbed higher, their voices uniting into one unstoppable wave of excitement.
"That guy," Nathan muttered under his breath from the bench, eyes flicking up toward the stands. There sat Rosette — the picture of joy.
Every time Dranred scored, her eyes sparkled with pride. When Dranred turned and threw a small fist pump in her direction, the camera caught it instantly, flashing it on the giant screen above.
The crowd exploded again, and the commentators couldn't help but laugh.
"After all these years, Dranred still knows how to light up the court," one of them said.
"And that smile! We've never seen the Shooting Star this happy. Wonder who that girl in the stands is?"
The camera panned to Rosette, who froze for a moment before bursting into embarrassed laughter. Her heart raced as the cheers swelled around her.
Even some of Dranred's female fans couldn't help but ask who she was, their curiosity mixed with admiration — and a touch of jealousy.
Down on the court, Dranred could hear none of it. His focus was absolute, his movements sharp and fluid. But when his eyes briefly found Rosette's in the stands, a faint smile curved his lips.
For the first time in a long while, he wasn't playing to prove something.
He was playing because he felt alive again.
"I don't know about you guys, but I think those two—"
The comment from one of Dranred's teammates was cut short.
"They're not," Nathan interrupted sharply, his tone colder than he intended. "They're childhood friends. He just sees her as a little sister."
Another player chuckled. "I don't think so. The way he looks at her… that's not how you look at a sister."
Nathan's jaw tightened. He didn't reply, but his hands curled into fists on his knees. His chest felt heavy as his gaze darted to Dranred, who was dominating the court again — moving with effortless precision, driving his team closer and closer to the lead.
The scoreboard flickered. Just before the second quarter ended, the veteran team had overtaken the All-Star lineup by five points.
Around him, the roar of the crowd blended with the squeak of sneakers and the thud of the ball hitting the floor. Nathan's pulse matched the rhythm — fast, uneven.
He wanted to cheer for his teammate, but every shot Dranred made felt like a reminder:
He wasn't just winning the game.
He was winning hearts, too.
"Rosette!"
Nathan's voice carried over the hum of the crowd as he spotted her near the corridor outside the court. It was halftime, and the roar inside the arena had softened into a low buzz of chatter.
Rosette turned, surprised. "Nathan! I didn't know you were here."
"The whole team came to watch," he said, flashing a polite smile. But his eyes lingered on her — longer than they should.
She tilted her head, uneasy. "What? Is there something wrong? Do I have something on my face?"
He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing like that. I just... saw you earlier — cheering for him."
He didn't need to say Dranred's name. It hung unspoken between them. "You looked so happy. I guess I'm a little... jealous."
Rosette blinked, caught off guard. "Jealous?"
"I already told you how I feel," he said quietly. "So watching you light up for him—it makes me uneasy."
Rosette softened her tone. "He's my friend, Nathan. Of course I'll cheer for him."
"You knew he was playing tonight?" he asked, half hopeful, half resentful.
"I only found out earlier," she said, smiling faintly. "We were supposed to watch the first game of the finals. My brother's an assistant coach for the Falcons, so—"
"So technically," he cut in, the tension easing from his face, "you came here to support your brother?"
"Yes," she replied, laughing softly.
Before Nathan could answer, a deep familiar voice called out, echoing from the tunnel.
"Rosette!"
Both of them turned.
"James!" Rosette exclaimed, waving as her brother approached. Nathan's chest tightened for reasons he couldn't name. Another tall, composed man — another presence that made him feel small.
"What are you doing out here alone?" James asked, his tone firm but calm. His eyes shifted to Nathan, recognizing him instantly.
Nathan straightened. He'd seen that look before — the measuring, protective gaze of a brother.
"Just getting some air," Rosette said lightly. "What about you?"
"I was looking for you," James replied, then turned his focus back to her. "I thought you were with him again."
His tone made the air around them feel heavier, even though he never raised his voice.
A soft cough drew the siblings' attention, and both turned toward Nathan.
"Oh, how rude of me. James, this is Nathan—he's the catcher of the baseball team," the young woman said, introducing the man beside her to her brother. "And this is my elder brother, James. He's the coach of the Falcons, the one I told you about. He's also an assistant coach for the national team," Rosette added proudly.
"Nice to meet you," Nathan said, extending his hand.
"Likewise," James replied, shaking it firmly.
"I hope you don't mind me spending time with your sister," Nathan continued, a faint smile on his lips. "You see, I'm her admirer."
At that, James's jaw tightened. It was the first time someone had dared to tell him—straight to his face—that they liked his sister. Then again, Rosette had spent most of her time at home these past few years; it wasn't as if she had many suitors.
"An admirer, huh?" James said dryly. "I bet he'd be thrilled to know someone admires you." His tone carried a hint of teasing sarcasm as he released Nathan's hand and glanced at Rosette.
Only then did Rosette realize who her brother was referring to, and her cheeks flushed crimson. She suddenly wondered what Dranred would think if he heard what Nathan had just said.
"I'm sorry, Nathan," James said, slipping an arm around his sister's shoulders. "Mind if I borrow my sister for a moment? I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
"Not at all," Nathan replied easily. "We just ran into each other. I was heading back to the court anyway." He smiled at Rosette. "I'll go ahead, then. Let's talk at the next game. You'll be watching the exhibition match, right?"
"Yeah, if I have the time, I'll come watch," Rosette answered with a small smile.
"I'll look forward to it," he said warmly. "Nice to meet you, James." With that, Nathan waved and headed toward the court. The siblings watched him walk away in silence.
"I don't like him," James muttered after a moment. "He's not a bad guy—I can tell—but he's a little too aggressive."
"He says he's just a straightforward person," Rosette replied, her gaze following Nathan's retreating figure. "He always speaks his mind."
"Is he courting you?" James asked his sister.
"Huh?" Rosette looked at him, startled.
"What kind of reaction is that?" James chuckled and gently pinched her nose. "There's nothing wrong if someone wants to court you. Just make sure you really know the kind of person he is. You're my little sister, and I don't want you to get hurt," he said warmly.
"Oh yeah?" Rosette stepped back slightly, narrowing her eyes. "Did you pick a fight with Dranred again?" she asked. She remembered the two of them talking earlier—and she knew her brother still held a grudge against the young man.
"So, you think I'm the kind of person who likes to start fights?" James replied, raising a brow.
"That's what you always do whenever you see him," Rosette said, half teasing, half serious. "You should already learn how to—"
She stopped herself mid-sentence, realizing she might say something that would upset him again.
"Learn how to forgive? Is that what you were about to say?" James asked quietly.
Rosette nodded, her voice soft.
"You can't teach the heart, Rosette," James said, his tone calm but heavy. "And just the same, you can't teach it to forgive if it isn't ready. But don't worry—I'm not going to pick a fight with him." He gave a small sigh. "Is that enough for now?"
He paused before adding, "But I did warn him—to stay away from you, so he wouldn't hurt you."
Rosette's head snapped toward him in surprise.
"You're afraid he'll leave you soon, aren't you?" James continued gently. "That's why I told him to walk away now—before he ends up breaking your heart. Seeing you hurt is the last thing I'd ever want."
"Thank you, James," Rosette whispered, leaning her head on her brother's shoulder. She knew he meant well, that everything he did came from care, not control. Maybe he had confronted Dranred only because he wanted to protect her from pain.
"Protecting you is my job as your big brother," James said, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.