A ripple of laughter ran down the line of players.

Vanessa tilted her head, her ponytail swinging, lips curving into a cruel smile. “Oh, please. One clumsy trip and she’s toast. Don’t overestimate her.”

Aria’s stomach tightened. Heat crawled up her neck, not from the gym lights but from every set of eyes flicking toward her waiting for her to break.

She forced herself to look straight ahead, jaw clenched.” I’m not giving them the satisfaction.”

The coach's whistle sliced the air again. “Ball in!”

Damian tossed the ball to Jason, who immediately bounced it between his legs and shot Aria a wolfish grin.

“Clock’s ticking, Lopez.”

The game began.

Jason dribbled down the court with a showy rhythm, sneakers squeaking with every exaggerated bounce. His grin widened as he cut straight toward Aria.

“Come on, Lopez. Show us those scholarship skills,” he taunted, his voice just loud enough to echo.

Aria planted her feet, heart hammering, trying to look ready. Jason faked left, darted right, then brushed past her so close his shoulder clipped hers hard enough to spin her sideways.

The crowd roared with laughter. Jason tossed the ball to Damian for an easy layup.

“Nice defense, Lopez,” someone shouted from the bleachers. “My grandma could block better!”

Aria shook her head, forcing herself back into position. The game sped around her fast, fluid, merciless. Every time she moved for the ball, Jason intercepted. Every time she tried to run the court, Vanessa ghosted in front of her, elbows sharp, and whispers cutting.

“Wrong shoes, wrong uniform, wrong life. You don’t belong here,” Vanessa hissed, shoving past her with enough force to knock Aria a step back.

Her lungs burned. Her arms ached from throwing herself at plays she never touched. Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she blinked it back, desperate not to stumble.

And then Jason called it out, loud, gleeful: “She’s slowing down already. Damian, you owe me.”

Damian caught the ball mid-pass, spinning it lazily on one finger. His gaze slid to Aria, unhurried, sharp.

“No,” he said, his voice cutting through the gym noise. “Not yet.”

He tossed the ball back to Jason. “Give her the ball.”

The ball bounced once, twice, echoing sharp against the polished gym floor before landing in Damian’s hands. He caught it smoothly, spinning it on his finger, not rushing to pass it off.

Then his voice, calm and deliberate, sliced through the noise.“Give her the ball.”

Everything stopped.

Jason froze mid-step, blinking. “What?”

Damian smirked, his eyes flicking toward Aria like she was nothing more than a practice dummy. “You heard me. Pass it to Lopez.”

The sound that rippled across the court wasn’t just laughter it was sharper, and meaner. The audience leaned forward, a hundred hungry eyes ready to feed on the show.

Jason cracked up first. “You’re kidding. She’s barely standing upright.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” Vanessa chimed in, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She tilted her head, ponytail swishing, and let her gaze linger on Aria’s flushed face. “Scholarship girl should show us what she’s worth. Or prove she isn’t.”

Aria’s skin prickled as whispers darted through the crowd, a thousand daggers disguised as laughter. Her chest felt tight, her breath shallow, like she’d been shoved beneath the surface of a pool.

Damian’s smile didn’t falter. He spun the ball one last time, caught it, and pointed casually toward her. “Let’s find out. Come on, Lopez. You didn’t come here to stand around, did you?”

Aria’s throat constricted. She wanted to disappear, no, she needed to disappear, but her feet were rooted to the floor, heavy and trembling.

Jason stepped closer, tossing the ball lazily from one hand to the other. “Careful, man. If she touches it, we might need to disinfect.” The court erupted in laughter again.

“Shut up and give it to her,” Damian said smoothly, not even looking at him. The authority in his tone made Jason actually obey, though he rolled his eyes.

The ball flew toward her. It smacked into her palms harder than expected, jolting through her arms. She barely managed to hold on, her fingers fumbling against the slick rubber.

Every set of eyes in the gym was glued to her.

Her breath caught. The weight of it wasn’t just the ball, it was the pressure, the expectation that she’d fumble, that she’d prove them right.

Damian’s voice rang out again, steady and merciless. “Show us what you’ve got, Lopez. Or is the scholarship just charity?”

The audy roared with fresh laughter, a chorus of cruelty that echoed louder than the whistle had.

Aria’s grip tightened until her knuckles whitened. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood, refusing to let her hands shake even as her vision blurred at the edges.

Jason leaned back, smirking like a spectator at a circus. Vanessa folded her arms, lips curled in amusement.

And Damian, he stood at center court, eyes locked on her, his expression unreadable except for the faintest flicker of amusement tugging at his mouth.

“Go on,” he drawled, his voice slicing through the noise. “Dribble.”

Aria’s fingers flexed against the ball, her palms damp, breath shallow. Every heartbeat thudded louder than the sneakers squeaking across the court.

The silence before the jeer came was worse than the laughter itself. She knew it was coming. She could feel them waiting for her to trip, to prove she didn’t belong.

Jason cut through the tension with a sudden bark of laughter. “Hold up, hold up!” He threw a hand into the air, signaling like he was stopping traffic. “That toss doesn’t count. If Lopez is gonna show us her moves, she deserves a proper pass.”

Damian arched an eyebrow but didn’t interfere. His silence was enough to show his approval .

Jason sauntered toward Aria, his grin stretched wide. He plucked the ball straight out of her stiff grip, ignoring the way her fingers clung to it for a split second too long.

“Are you ready, scholarship?” His voice carried, oozing mock encouragement. “Don’t choke. All eyes are on you.”

The audience leaned forward in unison, students murmuring and giggling, anticipation fizzing like soda bubbles about to burst.

Jason bounced the ball once, twice, then took three easy steps back. His grin turned wicked.

“Catch this.”

The ball arced high far too high. It soared just out of reach, spinning lazily under the bright gym lights. For Aria, time stretched thin, like the world had slowed.

She lunged upward, every muscle straining, arms shooting toward the ball. Her fingertips barely brushed rubber.

Her sneakers slid across the polished wood. Balance gone. Her foot snagged against Vanessa’s outstretched shoe, subtle but deliberate.

Gasps erupted as Aria stumbled forward, arms flailing, desperately clutching the ball against her chest before it slipped. The momentum carried her down, knees cracking against the floor with a smack that echoed painfully loud.

Laughter exploded from the bleachers, savage and endless. Someone shouted, “Timber!” Another whistled like she’d just blown a performance.

Jason doubled over, wheezing through his laughter. “Oh, damn! ten out of ten landing, Lopez! Do it again!”

Vanessa covered her mouth, feigning sympathy. “Careful, sweetie, you’ll bruise more than just your pride.”

Aria stayed frozen on the floor, her chest heaving, the ball cradled tight against her like a shield. Her palms stung, her knees screamed, and still she refused to let go.

Damian’s voice cut through the chaos, low and cool. “Get up.”

She raised her eyes. He was staring down at her, one brow lifted, expression carved in stone. No sympathy. No pity. Just a command.

“On your feet, Lopez. Or are you done already?”

The ball slipped from Aria’s grip as she staggered upright, legs trembling beneath her. Every muscle screamed to sit down, to stop but Damian’s voice still lingered in her ears, sharp and commanding.

“On your feet, Lopez.”

She clenched her jaw and forced herself higher, clutching the ball tight. Her chest burned, lungs dragging for air as laughter rained down from the bleachers.

Jason, still grinning, circled closer. “Careful now. She might actually try to play.”

He feinted left, then lunged at her. Aria barely lifted her arms when his shoulder slammed into her with deliberate force. The impact ripped the ball free from her hands.

She hit the floor hard. The sound of bone against wood made a few students gasp before the laughter returned, louder and sharper.

Jason caught the rebound, spun, and tossed it through the hoop with an easy flick. “That’s how it’s done!” he crowed, arms out wide like he’d just won a championship.

Aria curled in on herself for half a second, her palms throbbing, her hip aching from the fall. Her throat burned, not just from the hit but from holding back the tears that clawed to escape.

The whistle shrieked at last.

“ENOUGH!”