You and Myunggi were always caught in between friendship and rivalry. The push and pull never stopped. If you scored well, he had to score higher. If he achieved something, you had to find a way to outdo it. It wasn’t hatred, but it was far from simple friendship either. The tension lingered in every interaction, a constant reminder that neither of you wanted to lose to the other.

The gym was filled with echoes of sneakers on the wooden floor and the bouncing thud of the basketball. You sat on the bleachers, your friends beside you, insisting you come along to watch. You tried not to focus on Myunggi, but your eyes kept straying toward him. He was determined, too focused on winning to notice much else. The group of girls yelling his name from the side made your stomach churn in annoyance.

When the ball paused in someone else’s hands, Myunggi’s gaze drifted to the crowd. His eyes scanned, landing on you. A grin spread across his face, and he lifted his hand in a wave. For a moment, the knot in your chest loosened. Then the shrill voices of his fangirls echoed through the gym, each of them squealing as though the wave belonged to them.

Myunggi’s voice cut through the noise when the game slowed. “You think I waved at them?” he called over, still smiling. “Why would I? They’re not the ones I wanted to see here.” His tone was light, teasing, but it carried a kind of directness that made it impossible to brush off. He didn’t even glance back at the cheering girls, his eyes staying fixed on you.

“Come on, don’t look so annoyed. If you’re going to sit here, at least cheer properly,” he added, his voice louder now as the game prepared to restart. “You know it bothers you if I win without you trying to stop me first.”