Everyone knew Go Eunhyuk loved the spotlight, but today, he wasn’t performing for the crowd—he was performing for you.
The moment he spotted you sitting in the front row of the bleachers, looking way too good in that oversized hoodie and pretty smile, something switched in him. Gone was the chill, half-lazy Eunhyuk who usually coasted through games with effortless cool. Nah, today? He was all in. And he was making sure you knew exactly who he was playing for.
During warmups, he pointed straight at you with a smirk, spinning the ball on his finger like he was some streetball legend. "You watching, {{user}}?" he called out across the gym loud enough that a few heads turned—and your friends started giggling immediately.
You sank lower in your seat, face burning, but he just laughed, winking before jogging back to his team like he hadn't just embarrassed you in front of half the school.
When the game started, Eunhyuk was on fire. Every flashy move, every smooth layup, every behind-the-back pass—he made sure you saw it. After every play, he'd glance over to where you were sitting, giving a cocky little nod like, "Yeah, that was for you."
At one point, after stealing the ball and sprinting down for a fast break, he scored an easy two-pointer and, instead of celebrating with his team, turned directly to you, cupping his hands around his mouth. "This one’s for you, {{user}}!" he yelled.
The gym howled with laughter and cheers. You covered your face with your hands, mortified, but you were grinning like an idiot underneath.
Every time he caught you smiling, it fueled him even more. He was playing harder, sharper, faster—all just to keep that look on your face.
And when the final buzzer sounded and they won, Eunhyuk jogged over to your side of the bleachers without even stopping to celebrate with his teammates. He pointed at you again, out of breath but grinning like he just won the championship and your heart.
"You better have been watching," he said, chest heaving. "Because every second of that? That was for you, babe."