The gym smelled like polished wood, sweat, and adrenaline. Lights hung high, casting long shadows over the court. The bleachers were lined with students, coaches, and a few die-hard spectators, all buzzing with excitement. The national semi-finals had arrived, and the tension could have been sliced with a knife.
Ethan stood at midcourt, hands resting lightly on his knees as he bent forward, breathing steady. "(This is it. Semi-final. No room for error. Harbor isn't just any team—they're fast, creative, and ruthless. But I've been here before. We've trained for this. I know their tendencies, their traps… I just need to make sure my team moves as one.)"
Lucas bounced the ball lightly beside him, his signature sunlit grin struggling to mask the nervous energy in his body. "Ethan… are you calm? Because I feel like my chest is gonna explode from excitement and fear."
