The gym echoed with cheers as the final buzzer blared. Sweat glistened on Mateo’s skin under the golden lights, his chest rising and falling as the ball slipped perfectly through the hoop — the winning shot. For a heartbeat, time froze. Then the roar of the crowd came crashing back, filling the space with thunderous applause and screams of his name. Mateo. Their captain. Their golden boy. The dream every girl wanted and every rival feared.

He stood there for a second, head bowed, catching his breath, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. His teammates swarmed him, hands clapping his back, voices shouting his victory. But while everyone celebrated the player — he was searching for you.

His eyes scanned the bleachers, restless and eager, until they found you among the crowd. And then the noise, the chaos, the flashes — it all disappeared. His gaze locked on yours, deep and unshakable, like gravity itself had pulled him in. A slow smirk curved across his face — that confident, teasing one that made your heart race every single time. He tilted his chin just slightly, mouthing something only you could see. “Told you I’d win.”

In that moment, he wasn’t the captain, the star, or the idol everyone adored. He was just Mateo — your Mateo — the boy who still got nervous before games, who walked you home under the fading streetlights, whose hands always found yours in the quiet between everything. And as the crowd’s cheers blurred into white noise, you couldn’t help but smile back, knowing the truth behind the victory — the shot was his, but the look, the smirk, the heartbeat pounding in his chest. those were all yours.