Always Fighting // Kyrie Irving

2016 NBA Finals- Game Six

Sabrina- 

There's a strange sense of finality as I walk into the Quicken Loans Arena. A sadness that bears down on me when I realize I will not be walking into the locker room. I will not be wrapped in the comforting smell of Kyrie's cologne as he hugs me. I'm here, wearing his jersey, supporting his team, but I feel more outcasted then I have ever felt. 

He said nothing explicit. No text that said "stay away," no calls of anger. Then again, he didn't message me at all. Nothing. No communication, which, I suppose is all the communication. 

I want pity. I had built something so beautiful with Kyrie, something that had felt so real, so tangible. His lips on my mind, his hands brushing over my skin, all of it, for the first time I had felt truly at peace. Truly happy. Not just satisfied but exuberant. I want people to mourn for what I feel is the end of a journey, but I know I don't deserve pity. The only reason we find ourself in this position is because I was too scared, too nervous, to trust Kyrie with what I thought was the biggest secret in the world. 

Who knows? Maybe if I had told him early in relationship, we wouldn't even have had a problem. But I let it build, I pretended to be normal, I faked my childhood, I edited Steve out of every story I ever told Kyrie. And now, it would appear that Steve is all I have left. 

I see countless fans streaming through the doors, but the ones that really bother me are the beautiful girls wearing Irving jerseys. They all dream of a chance to hook up with the star, to have him call them pet names and stroke their hair at 3 in the morning. And the sad truth is, they would all have a better chance of keeping him than I did. Steve could've been an advantage but instead he was my downfall. 

And I truly hate myself for it. I can feel tears fill my eyes but I shut my eyes tightly so they don't spill out. No sense in crying in front of thousands of fans for something they wouldn't understand. It takes several deep breaths and a comforting pat on the back by Dani, who stands relatively unfazed by my side. She, like a true friend, comforted me, but refused to give me the pity I thought I deserved. 

We make our way to our seats, and I watch as Kyrie comes out onto the court, prepared for another fight to the death. I no longer feel like a concerned girlfriend cheering on her boyfriend, I feel like an unwanted stalker who can't let go of someone who has become totally unreachable.  

Kyrie- 

"We brought it back to Cleveland, the question is now, are you satisfied with staying here without a championship? How badly do you want revenge? Are you willing to do what it takes and leave everything you have out there? This is our road, boys. It's challenging and difficult as hell, but it takes the perseverance of champions to become a champion. It's how deep you can dig inside of yourself, find the last bits of strength, the will to prove everyone and everything, including yourself, wrong. Our challenge is great, but if our desire is greater there is nothing we can't overcome." LeBron closes his eyes as he talks, swinging his body back and forth, fist raised in the air. It only takes the one game to bring us to an even 3-3. Anything, anything can happen in a game seven and that championship belongs just as much to us as it does to the Golden State Warriors. 

The lights dim and 'Bron brings us down to a huddle, his arms moving angrily now. 

"This is our place. This is our time!" He throws his hand down towards the ground with such force, his warm up jacket opens up. "I'll be damned if we don't give this everything we got." 

There's a power in the air, you can feel it, as we walk to tip off. Like you could jump up and grab it. A tension, a fear, a passion. It's beautiful. 

Thompson tips against Green and Love grabs it. We come out quickly and JR launches up a three  right as the ball touches his hand. To the crowd, it may seem stupid, but this is the only time in the game where you can errantly throw up shots. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain. 

Things start out slow for both teams, all of us trying to find a sustainable rhythm. We're up 8-2, and I call for a screen that would leave TT open for an easy two, but the way the Warriors are moving I see an opportunity. I swing it out to JR to lose my defender and instantly he passes it back and I release a perfect three. Satisfaction courses through my body and on the other end, i block Barnes jump shot. LeBron and I push the offense and he cuts through defenders until he gets to the rim, where I launch up an alley oop dunk. 

The first quarter is all about assists, and it proves us well. The score is 31-11 at the end of the first, and well there is still a long way to go, a twenty point lead is never a bad thing. During a time-out, we hear the same thing from T-Lue. He likes our energy, but we can't settle. Which simply begs the question, can you settle in a game that can decide your fate? 

Even in the second half, although our offense went cold for the last six minutes, our defense was so threatening, the Warriors only climbed within twelve. 

But the first half stats only matter if you can actually close out the game and we enter the fourth quarter with a ten point lead and a raging hunger for revenge. It was so close to the end of game six, we could all feel it, but so much can happen in the waining moments, we came out ready to play like it was our last game. For all intents and purposes, it could have been. 

Instead, LeBron James happened. It was amazing just to be on the floor, watching him play. I'm sure if you looked at a stat sheet, it would just say "James" for almost every made shot. There was no way he was going to let this series end in six games. All we had to do was follow his lead and play like we meant it. 

The final buzzer sounded, 115-101. The Cleveland Cavaliers were headed back to the Bay to play game seven on the NBA finals. As we headed back to the locker room, both exhausted and exuberant, all I could think about was seeing Sabrina's beautiful face waiting for me. Ready to congratulation and slip her thin arms around my neck. 

________________________________________________________

I waited for what seemed like forever for her to show up. I finished my interviews, showered and changed, but heard nothing from her. I didn't realize until that moment what a routine it had become. She came to my games. She was always there to greet me. Without her... 

I pulled out my phone and opened up her contacts, typing up a quick message. 

Where are you? 

A/N

SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! And also sorry if this chapter sucked! This one just wouldn't flow, but the final chapters are now here and they will hopefully be better than ever. Game Seven of the Finals is written in much more detail and with much more emotion so be prepared for a super long chapter! Thanks for your patience!