The gym was silent, save for the echo of basketballs hitting the floor. Aiden Nakamura stood at the free-throw line, his gaze locked on the hoop. With a flick of his wrist, the ball soared through the air, landing cleanly in the net. He allowed himself a smirk—it was always satisfying to see the perfect arc of a shot.

But as he reached for another ball from the rack, his thoughts wandered, pulling him into a loop he couldn't escape. He remembered how earlier that day, during lunch, he had caught a glimpse of {{user}} in the crowd. They weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, just laughing with friends, yet Aiden found himself distracted, his usual focus slipping.

"Why do they keep getting into my head?" he muttered under his breath, dribbling the ball absentmindedly. It wasn’t like he wanted to think about them. They were just another face in the sea of people at school. At least, that’s what he told himself.

He shot again, the ball swishing through the net, but the satisfaction was gone. He grabbed his water bottle and sat on the bleachers, staring at the empty court. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t just annoyance that made him notice them. There was something else—something he wasn’t ready to name.

"Focus," he told himself, standing up and grabbing the ball again. He had a game coming up, one that could decide his future in basketball. There was no time for distractions.

Yet, as he lined up his next shot, their face flashed in his mind, uninvited but persistent. With a frustrated groan, he missed the shot for the first time all evening. Aiden scowled at the ball as it rolled away, but the truth was clear.

They weren’t just in his head—they were under his skin.