Blessing in Disguise

Chapter Ten

Y/N

6/17/2018

The gym was electric. The intensity of the game between Niskayuna High and Long Island Lutheran was palpable, with both teams battling for dominance on every possession. The stands were packed, the crowd roaring with every basket, and the players on the court matched that energy. Every dribble, every pass, every defensive stand felt crucial, and neither team was willing to give an inch.

Y/N was locked in, driving the ball up the court with speed and precision. His vision was sharp, his movements fluid as he orchestrated the offense, setting up his teammates with pinpoint passes. Yet Long Island Lutheran's defense was fierce, matching them stride for stride, making it a back-and-forth battle that no one could break open.

The game was tight. Every possession felt like a battle in itself, with players diving for loose balls and fighting for every rebound. Y/N had managed to score 20 points so far, racking up 4 rebounds and 7 assists along the way, but the numbers didn't matter to him. They weren't good enough—not for a game of this magnitude. Not with the expectations on his shoulders.

With just seconds left on the clock and the game tied, Y/N's team had the ball. He stood at the top of the key, the ball in his hands, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. The crowd was on its feet, screaming, the sound blurring into a dull roar in his ears. His heart pounded in his chest, his hands slick with sweat, but his focus was razor-sharp. This was it. This was his moment.

The defense pressed up on him, but Y/N faked right, cutting left with a quick crossover, creating just enough space. He pulled up for the shot, the ball leaving his hands with perfect form. Time seemed to slow as it soared through the air, the crowd holding its breath.

The ball swished through the net, and the gym erupted into chaos.

Y/N landed awkwardly, his ankle twisting beneath him as he came down, a sharp pain shooting up his leg. He winced but quickly bit back the pain, his adrenaline still surging as his teammates swarmed him, celebrating the game-winning shot. He had done it—he had won the game for his team. But even as the excitement of the moment washed over him, the throbbing in his ankle and the disappointment in his own performance crept in.

Twenty-three points. Four rebounds. Seven assists. It was a solid stat line, but it wasn't enough. Not for him. Not for the expectations he carried. He should have done more. He should have been better.

After the celebration died down, and the crowd began to filter out of the gym, Y/N stayed behind. His teammates were laughing, packing up their bags, but Y/N sat on the bench, his ankle aching and his mind racing. The pressure, the expectations—it all felt too much. Even with a game-winner against the best team in the state under his belt, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was falling short.

When the gym finally emptied out, Y/N limped over to the free-throw line, picking up a ball. The gym was quiet now, the echoes of the game fading into the stillness. He stood there, alone, staring at the hoop. The silence was suffocating, the weight of everything pressing down on him harder than ever.

He dribbled the ball a few times, the sound hollow in the empty gym. Then he shot, watching as the ball sailed through the net, a clean swish.

But it didn't feel like a victory. It didn't feel like enough.

Yunjin

Yunjin's rest day came as a welcome break, giving her time to explore the Produce 48 filming site without the looming pressure of evaluations. The atmosphere inside the living quarters was quieter than usual, and for once, she didn't have to worry about dance routines or vocal practice. As she wandered through the long hallways, she noticed the familiar yet distant buzz of activity coming from the practice rooms, but for now, they were places she could leave behind.

The shared gym was her first stop. It was more modest than she expected, a contrast to the grandeur of the filming facilities. There were a few scattered weights and a handful of treadmills lined up against the wall. It reminded her of the gym back in Albany, where Y/N used to practice, always drenched in sweat but with that determined look in his eyes. She found herself smiling at the memory, a pang of homesickness hitting her.

From the gym, she moved to the cafeteria, which was still quiet in the late morning. The smell of freshly made food wafted from the dining hall. As she grabbed a small tray and sat down alone at a corner table, she glanced around, noticing how different it was from the small lunch spots back home. The cafeteria here had a sterile, almost utilitarian feel, compared to the warm and cozy diners she used to frequent with Y/N. The distance from home, from everything familiar, settled in her chest, though she tried to shake it off.

After eating, she wandered further, passing by the endless rows of practice rooms. The large, mirrored spaces felt almost intimidating. Yunjin could see a few girls rehearsing, their faces serious, their movements sharp. Part of her itched to join them, but today wasn't about pushing herself—it was about recharging. So instead, she quietly observed them for a while, feeling that familiar desire to improve burn in her chest before deciding to move on.

Later in the afternoon, with the day winding down, Yunjin sat by her bed, scrolling through her phone. Her thumb hovered over Y/N's name, as it often did when she needed to feel a connection to him, to home. She called, expecting to hear his familiar voice greet her, but the phone rang...and rang...and rang. No answer.

Frowning, Yunjin checked the time. He should've been done with his game by now, right? Maybe he was busy celebrating or resting, but it wasn't like him to miss her calls, especially not today, after such an important game. A nagging feeling of worry crept in, and Yunjin's heart started to race.

Unable to shake the unease, she decided to call Rachel. Maybe Y/N's game had gone late, or maybe the Huh family had gone to show support, and she could ask them how things went.

"Hey, Rach," Yunjin said when Rachel picked up, trying to keep her voice steady. "Did you guys go to Y/N's game today?"

Rachel's voice was chipper, as always, but there was a hint of confusion in her response. "No, we didn't go today. Why? Did something happen?"

Yunjin's chest tightened. "He didn't pick up my call. I just thought you guys might've been there."

"Oh... No, we didn't go, but maybe he's just busy? You know, celebrating or something?"

Yunjin forced a laugh. "Yeah, maybe. I'll try him again later."

But the worry settled deeper. Something didn't feel right.

───── ⋆⋅🏀⋅⋆ ─────

A/N: Wanted the story to at least have a little bit of angst, so lmk how it is!