Until Then. // denis shapovalov - sascha zverev

2.5 - attention

Willow's POV

"...So you ready for tomorrow?" I ask Dom as we walk to the Stadium together. It's a warm morning, and the sun was fully up with blue skies. The light warm breeze cools my face, preparing for the heatwave to come.

"I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Dom shrugs. "If I make it tomorrow, I'll be in the round of eight, and then four... and then two..." he dozes off into thought but clears his throat and directs his attention back. "But the real question is, are you ready for tomorrow?"

"What do you mean? I finished scheduling and I'm meeting with my group today," I answer.

"But... apart from work... what about Sascha and Denis?" Dom says. "They're playing together, you know?"

I sigh, "Yep... but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Are they on your court?" Dom asks.

"No, thankfully... I checked. But they're playing late, so if my last match finishes early, I can jog over and check it out," I respond. "I probably should."

"I should be done with my cool down by then," Dom says. "I'll go with you."

"Sure," I smile. "Thanks. I'll need it."

"So, what's your work schedule today? I don't think I'm coming in for an interview," Dom says.

"No, I checked, you aren't. Neither are Denis and Alex. But I know Stef is, so at least I'll recognize one person. But we're just doing wrap up interviewing of the players we've followed through the tournament. I'm sure they want to see if you make it through tomorrow before we start writing out the script for your interview," I respond.

"I get a whole script?" Dom jokes. "Lucky me."

-

*The Next Day*

Alex's POV

"Thanks for driving, Lorenzo. See you tonight," I say, waving as I shut the car door.

Before my driver drives away, he rolls down the window to call, "Good luck!" And speeds off.

I walk into the back door of the Stadium and head to the locker room. No one else is in there as I shove my backpack into a locker and change into a fresh set of training clothing before shutting my locker and walking out.

I'm halfway through putting my headphones in when I almost walk into someone while turning out of the locker room.

"Oh, shit, sorry," I mutter, looking up from my phone to see who it is. "Shapo."

"All good man," he smiles, patting me on the shoulder. "Good luck today, I look forward to our match."

And just like that, he disappeared into the locker room. Damn, that fuck just knows exactly how to get under my skin. Just that stupid 'goofy' smile he has, walking around like he's completely clueless to everyone around him. What the hell does Willow see in him? I think, but I quickly shake my head. I can't think about her during my match day. I can't distract myself.

I finally reach my practice court and walk in. "Good morning, guys," I say.

"Good morning," everyone chimes in.

"Are you excited for today?" My fitness coach, Jaz, asks me. "If you get through this, you'll get to the cut of eight.

"Yeah, that would be awesome. "I reply.