(Dockyard Drifters vs Flowstate — "Silence Has a Beat")
The rain didn't stop the game.
It joined it.
Floodlights cut through steam. Vendors yelled.
Every breath from the crowd echoed under the concrete canopy like a chorus.
It wasn't just another 3v3 — this was the night Manila turned rhythm into religion.
Opening
Thea Cruz stood center court, raincoat half-zipped, mic wrapped in plastic.
Her voice cracked through the noise:
"Grand Final! Dockyard Drifters versus Flowstate!
One game to eleven — winner takes the 15,000 pot and the Bridge Title!"
The bridge roared.
Flowstate
PG — Riki Dela Peña · "The Barefoot King."
PF — Teo Alvarado · "The Silent Engine."
SG — Bong Velasco · "The Loud Problem."
Dockyard Drifters
PG — Mario "Fishball" Dela Cruz
PF — Bornok Rivera
SG — Renz "Air" Alonzo
From the shadows of the bridge supports, Raf Alcantara, Prime De Vera, and Diether Alcaraz watched silently.
Beside them, Koji Tanaka stood with his hood up — unmoving.
Tip-Off
Bornok vs Teo.
Whistle. Tap.
Ball to Mario — lob to Renz — 360 windmill slam.
1–0 Dockyard.
Crowd exploded.
Riki grinned. "You still owe me rent, Airboy."
Renz smirked. "Payday's today."
Riki crossed over mid-rain, barefoot on slick cement — his steps soundless but sharp.
Spin → floater → net kiss.
1–1.
First Half — Flow vs Flow
Bong set tempo like a drummer; Teo read spacing like a metronome.
Flowstate's motion was music even without sound.
But Renz — Renz danced to everything.
He juked, faked, hung — reverse jam. 3–2 Dockyard.
Teo answered, midrange baseline — 3–3.
The crowd swayed.
Rain pulsed in sync with sneakers squeaking on wet cement.
Every move felt scored.
Thea, watching from the sideline, whispered,
"They're both in rhythm. Both hearing the same song."
Midgame — When Sound Becomes Silence
Dockyard led 6–5.
Renz was laughing between breaths, hips moving with the beat from the speaker.
The bass thumped like his second heartbeat.
Thea watched him — eyes narrowing.
Then realization hit.
"The music's not helping him—it's carrying him."
She turned to the DJ.
"Kill the sound."
The DJ hesitated. "You sure? They'll riot."
"Do it. Let's see if he can find it without it."
Click.
The bridge went dead.
The Silence
No more bass.
No hum.
Only rain.
Renz froze mid-dribble.
His rhythm slipped.
Next play — he missed a dunk.
Then a layup.
Flowstate took the lead, 8–6.
Teo powered inside — one-hand jam. 9–6.
Riki crouched low, barefoot stance firm.
"Where's your music now, Airboy?"
Renz clenched his jaw, heartbeat deafening in the quiet.
He tried to recreate the song — but it wasn't there.
Bornok yelled, "Come on, boy! You don't need a DJ to breathe!"
But Renz didn't hear him.
He was still searching for the beat — everywhere but inside.
The Flowstate Surge
Flowstate moved like water down marble.
Teo's passes curved perfect; Riki's movements blurred into rhythm too subtle to follow.
It wasn't flashy — it was inevitable.
Riki passed behind the back, Teo caught mid-step, and Bong screamed as he hit the game point layup.
10–7. Match point Flowstate.
Thea felt a lump in her throat.
"Maybe I was wrong," she whispered.
"Maybe he's not ready yet."
Then Renz smiled.
The Beat Returns
He exhaled.
The world slowed.
The silence wasn't empty anymore — it was waiting.
Boom... clap... boom...
The rhythm was his pulse.
The bass — his breath.
The song — his will.
He grinned at Riki.
"Thanks for the lesson, rent collector."
Riki smirked. "You found it?"
Renz's eyes glowed under floodlight.
"Didn't lose it. Just tuned it."
Final Run
Bornok's screen shook the ground.
Mario lobbed without looking.
Renz caught mid-air, twisting — double clutch reverse. 10–8.
Teo tried to answer — drive left, spin — Bornok blocked him clean.
Ball back to Renz.
He didn't rush.
Three slow bounces.
Rain falling like applause.
Cross left.
Step right.
Jump—hang—windmill jam so loud it cracked the puddles.
10–9.
Riki smirked. "One more shot, then."
He drove — Teo screened — but Renz cut through, stole the pass.
Mario grabbed it, tossed it high.
Renz took off from the dotted line,
body twisting, 360 backboard windmill slam.
11–10 Dockyard.
The lights flickered from the impact.
Then the bridge screamed alive again.
Aftermath
For a moment, everyone just stood in the rain.
Then noise flooded back like a wave.
Phones up. Horns blaring.
Thea shouted through the megaphone:
"Your Concrete Beats Champions — THE DOCKYARD DRIFTERS!"
Bornok grabbed Mario and spun him like a towel.
Renz dropped to his knees laughing, rain mixing with sweat.
Across the court, Riki walked up barefoot, grinning.
Riki: "Told you, music's inside you."
Renz: "Yeah. But silence helps you hear it."
They bumped fists — respect sealed in rhythm.
Thea wiped her eyes, half laughing.
"You're all insane. But that's what makes it art."
Up in the shadows, Diether crossed his arms.
Koji said nothing, just whispered to Raf,
"He'll fit in when the time comes."
Under the Bridge — Later
The crowd gone, rain whispering now.
Renz handed Riki a folded envelope.
Renz: "1,500 pesos. My debt. Five hundred for being an ass."
Riki: "Keep it. You already paid—with rhythm."
Renz: "Then what's next?"
Riki: "Ask her."
Thea stepped forward.
Thea: "We're opening university tryouts. Flowstate's going official.
You'd fit right in."
Renz: "School, huh?"
Bornok: "As long as cafeteria's 24/7."
They laughed.
Renz looked toward the dark water.
Renz: "Let me finish one more run home. When I come back—"
Riki: "We'll be ready to beat you."
Renz: "Deal."
Fists bumped. Rain fell heavier.
EPILOGUE — LOW TIDE
A Few Weeks Later
Pangasinan again.
The sound of frogs, water, and nets hitting water in rhythm.
Renz Alonzo stood knee-deep in the pond, pulling the net with Bornok.
The sun dipped orange over the mangroves.
It should've felt like peace — it usually did — but his mind kept flashing back to the bridge, to the roar after his last dunk.
Bornok: "You're quiet, Airboy. What's eating you?"
Renz: "Nothing. Just thinking how the rim's louder than these waves."
Bornok: "You're thinking about Manila again."
Renz: "A bit. Riki said there's a spot for us in the university. Scholarships, training. Real thing."
Bornok: "And books."
Renz: laughs "That's the part scaring me more than Raf's defense."
He hauled another net, muscle flexing, sweat mixing with pond water.
Renz: "I like this, you know? This life. It's honest. But..."
Bornok: "But the ball's calling louder."
Renz: "Yeah. And I don't wanna waste it. Ma says talent's like fish — leave it too long and it starts to stink."
Bornok grinned. "Then maybe it's time to sell fresh again."
They worked in silence after that, pulling the last net to shore.
When the truck horn blared from the dirt road — another delivery, another night — Renz glanced at the horizon where city lights would be if the world were flat enough.
Renz (to himself): "I'll come back, Coach. But first... I'll make sure I'm worth the trip."
The wind shifted.
A basketball rolled across the mud from a kid nearby.
Renz caught it, spun it once, and shot toward the sky —
the sound of splash and swish becoming one.
End of Volume 2 — "Concrete Beats."
(To be continued in Volume 3: "Lowlights.")