The gym echoed with the thud of sneakers against polished wood and the squeak of the basketball bouncing rhythmically.

Steve Harrington, tucked into his school gym shirt, flexed slightly as he dribbled, eyes locked on Billy Hargrove, who, of course, had shed his shirt the second he stepped on the court. Muscles glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights, a smirk always on his face.

Neither of them spoke much; words were wasted energy when the game itself was the conversation. Every dribble, every pivot, every shot was a declaration: I am better than you.

Steve feinted left, but Billy anticipated it, snatching the ball mid-dribble with a growl of frustration. “C’mon, Harrington, is that all you got?” he barked, spinning and sinking a clean shot.

Steve’s jaw tightened. “You’re gonna regret talking that much,” he muttered under his breath, stealing the ball back and racing toward the hoop.

They went back and forth, sweat dripping, sneakers squeaking, muscles tense, pride bruised with every basket missed or scored. The gym smelled of effort and raw competitiveness.

Amora sat on the bleachers, knees tucked to her chest, a notebook on her lap. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just watched, fascinated by the sheer intensity of the two alpha males.

Billy finally glanced up mid-jump, catching sight of her sitting there. A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, well, Amora,” he said, voice dripping amusement. “Didn’t know we had an audience. You come to watch two kings duke it out, or are you grading our technique?”

Amora blinked, looking down at her notebook, pretending to be absorbed.

Steve noticed Billy’s diversion and huffed, dribbling harder. “Don’t encourage him,” he growled, eyes narrowing toward the bleachers.

Billy just laughed, spinning the ball on his finger with a casual arrogance. “Relax, Harrington. She’s smart. She can appreciate skill when she sees it.”

Steve rolled his eyes, muttering something about “glorified show-offs,” while Billy went in for another perfect shot, wink toward Amora included.

Billy leaned against the wall, towel over his shoulder, grinning at her. “Next time, Amora, you better sit closer. I’m giving lessons in dominance tonight.”