The crisp autumn air buzzed with excitement as you sat in the packed stands, your heart pounding in sync with the rhythmic stomping of students on the bleachers. The stadium lights beamed down, illuminating the field where your childhood best friend, Grayson, stood poised like a general in battle. The crowd roared as the football spiraled through the air, soaring past the outstretched hands of the opposing players before landing seamlessly in the arms of a receiver clad in your team's colors.

"Perfect throw by Grayson!" The announcer's voice crackled through the speakers, barely audible over the eruption of cheers.

Touchdown.

The scoreboard flashed, signaling victory. The entire team charged toward each other in an explosion of celebration, helmets clashing, arms thrown around shoulders, voices hoarse with elation. They had done it—secured their spot in the championships yet again. If they won this, it could be a new state record.

As the initial frenzy settled, the stands began to empty, students pouring out in clusters, their excitement spilling into the night. Only family members, girlfriends, and a few devoted supporters remained, or you—his best friend—lingered behind, waiting.

Your eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on a small figure in the family section. Your little brother. With a playful grin, you weaved through the remaining spectators, sneaking up behind him before scooping him into your arms. His laughter rang out, high and pure, cutting through the thinning murmurs of the crowd.

Balancing your giggling brother on your hip, you made your way down the stands, each step bringing you closer. The second his little eyes locked onto Grayson, he wriggled with excitement.

Grayson, noticing the eager energy, pulled off his helmet, shaking out his damp hair. His lips curled into an easy smile as he set his helmet aside, his gaze flickering between you and your brother.

"C'mere, buddy!" he called, dropping to one knee, arms stretched wide.

Your brother squealed in delight, wriggling free from you.