All Shades Of Us

Chapter 1: The Little Mirror

The sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished court, mingled with the laughter of kids, echoed through the expansive gym. Killian Reed spun the basketball lazily in his hands, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as a group of children circled him like a swarm of bees. Their eyes sparkled with excitement, and he fed off their energy, thriving in the chaos.

"Come on, Mr. Reed! You gotta pass!" a boy shouted, his small hands raised high in anticipation.

Killian's smirk widened. "Pass? Nah. Gotta make you work for it." He dribbled around the kids, weaving through their arms like they were little cones on a training ground.

The gym erupted with squeals of protest as Killian faked a shot, then spun and lobbed the ball gently toward the basket. It swished through the net with effortless grace, and the kids erupted into cheers.

"That's what I'm talking about!" one of the boys shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

Killian ruffled the boy's hair and chuckled, the scene warming him more than he expected. He thrived in arenas filled with roaring fans, but this—the innocent joy of a group of kids—felt different. It was... grounding.

"Alright, who's next?" he called, spinning the ball on one finger.

"Me!" A voice rang out, clear and confident.

Killian turned to see a small boy step forward, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, calculating. The kid looked like he'd already won, like the game was just a formality. Killian's breath hitched for a fraction of a second.

The boy had his eyes—those same hazel-green irises that glinted with mischief and determination.

"What's your name, champ?" Killian asked, tilting his head.

"Kai," the boy said, his voice steady. "Kai Scott."

Scott. The name didn't register, but something about the boy did. It wasn't just the eyes. It was the way Kai tilted his head, the faint smirk on his lips that mirrored Killian's own. It was as though he were staring at a miniature version of himself.

"Alright, Kai," Killian said, tossing the ball to him. "Let's see what you've got."

Kai caught the ball with surprising ease, his small hands firm around it. He gave Killian a once-over, the same cocky, appraising look Killian had given countless opponents on the court.

The gym buzzed with excitement as the other kids stepped back, forming a loose circle around the two.

"You sure about this?" Killian teased, crossing his arms.

Kai grinned, the expression so familiar it made Killian's chest tighten. "Are you?"

Killian laughed, genuinely amused. This kid was something else.

Kai dribbled the ball a few times, his movements quick and fluid. Killian allowed him to drive forward, testing his approach. The kid was fast—much faster than most kids his age—and his footwork was sharp.

Kai faked left, then spun right, shooting with a precision that caught Killian off guard. The ball arced perfectly and swished through the net.

The gym exploded into cheers, and Kai turned to Killian, his grin impossibly wide. "Told you."

Killian blinked, his heart pounding for reasons he couldn't fully explain. He forced a laugh and patted Kai on the shoulder. "Alright, alright. Not bad, little man. But next time, I'm bringing my A-game."

The charity event wrapped up an hour later, but Killian couldn't shake the image of Kai from his mind. As he drove his sleek black car back to his office, his thoughts churned like a storm.

The boy wasn't just talented—he was him. His eyes, his smirk, even the way he moved on the court. Killian leaned back in his seat, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

"Scott," he murmured to himself. "Kai Scott."

He needed answers.

When he reached his office, the familiar smell of polished wood and leather greeted him. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of Miami, the city glittering under the late afternoon sun.

"Mr. Reed," his assistant greeted as he walked in. "Your meeting is in thirty minutes."

"Cancel it," he said, not breaking stride. "I need James in my office. Now."

James, his go-to private investigator, arrived within the hour, his demeanor as unshakable as always.

"You've got something for me?" James asked, taking a seat across from Killian's desk.

Killian slid a handwritten note across the desk: Kai Scott.

"I met this kid today," Killian said, his voice measured, but his eyes sharp. "I want to know everything about him. His family, where he lives, who his parents are."

James raised an eyebrow. "And why the sudden interest in a kid?"

Killian leaned back, his expression guarded. "Let's just say he caught my attention. And I need to know why."

James studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Consider it done."

As the door closed behind James, Killian stared out at the horizon, his mind replaying every moment with Kai. There was a familiarity in the boy that unsettled him—a connection he couldn't ignore.

And deep down, a nagging voice whispered that the answers he sought might change everything.