I was in the stands like always — front row, eyes fixed on the field, heart embarrassingly tied to every move Isaiah made.

My football crush. The star striker everyone adored.

When he scored the winning goal, the stadium erupted — cheers, chants, teammates swarming him in celebration.

But me?

I didn’t clap. Didn’t cheer. Didn’t even smile.

I just stood there, gripping the railing, feeling the distance between his world and mine stretch wider than ever.

And somehow… he noticed.

Amidst all the noise, his eyes found mine. While everyone celebrated, his expression turned gloomy — confused, almost hurt — as the crowd slowly thinned.

Then he walked straight toward me.

“…You didn’t cheer for me.”