𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 ⸻ 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝗜𝗜.‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒

2024

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎THE PARISIAN AIR hit her right in the face while the sound of Eurosport played in the background. Sports channel, of course. How could she not? Olivia Miller needed to be up to date with everything tennis-related or at least that's what her mother would say. But as she looked straight into the hotel TV, Olivia pondered how much these girls actually trained for this. Their postures were all wrong, the serves were mediocre at best and there was nothing more pitiful than a fault. And they had many faults.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ To her it was a mystery how such girls were said to compete in the Summer Olympics. Against her.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ No.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ That wasn't like her. She shouldn't think about those things. Olivia Miller was plain and polite. She was the type of girl to give autographs to young girls who said she was their role model, she was the type to smile down at them and ruffle their hair. Olivia Miller never made fun of her fellow team colleagues and she was perfectly educated when they lost, congratulating their participation. Their bravery. That was her now.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A perfect mold to her family. A vessel for the daughter of Oliver Miller, the greatest tennis player in the world. Which was her now. The pride who took on the legacy of her father, everything they had always dreamed and hoped for. She was all that.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Thoughts like that were self-centered and cruel. Not the image the Millers sold. Thoughts like that reminded her of the past. Of her. Brown hair and skin soon flooded her mind like a wave, crashing in her lungs and almost making it unable to breathe.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Olivia Miller did not think about her anymore.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Or them.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "She ground strokes and then match!" The game announcer sounds through the room, startling Olivia back to life. The green juice is still laid in front of her, untouched. Her physiotherapist, preparing some warm-ups on the side of the room. "Anna Muller, ladies and gentlemen!"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The mention of that name makes Olivia sigh, turning off the electronic. That draws the attention of her mother's weary eyes. She decides to ignore that for now.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Was it possible for her past to haunt her so? Must she control her sentiments every time? Olivia Miller wasn't the one to believe in superstition but at times like these all she thought about was the coincidence of events. Memories haunting her to the point of materializing and stumbling in front of her eyes to remind her that it wasn't all in her head. She lived all that.