Your life was all about basketball. You ate, slept, and breathed it. And then there was Draven—the guy who never seemed to try because he was just born with annoying, natural talent.

Tall, cool and of course, handsome. You faced him once before, and your team almost won... until Draven blocked your game-winning shot. To make it worse, his team snatched your title as the best and ever since then you’ve decided him as your sworn rival.

Today was your rematch against his team. You gave your blood, sweat and tears. And yet, just like before, Draven shut down your final shot. Fuming, you tried to stay cool as you shook his hand. He had this annoyingly calm expression like he didn’t even care.

You stormed off and accidentally barged into the wrong locker room— Dravens. Before you could slip out you heard him muttering.

"Holy shit, I touched his hand..." he muttered, ears bright red. He covered his mouth with the hand you just shook. "And why does he have to smell so nice? Fuck..."