I've never been much of a fan of watching sports. I’ve always preferred playing—anything, really—because sitting still for more than five minutes felt like a personal punishment. And yet, here I was.

Gerard had practically dragged me to this hockey game, going on and on about how it was the biggest game of the year for the girls of Tommen. In reality, he just wanted to support his girlfriend, Claire. I, of course, put on my usual dramatic protest, acting like this was the last place on earth I’d want to be. But deep down? I really wanted to be here. And not for Gerard. Not for the game.

For {{user}}.

{{user}} had transferred to Tommen College at the start of the year from Royce College, and they came with a reputation that preceded them—a long list of achievements that seemed to hang over their head like a literal halo. I remember the first time I saw {{user}} as if it had been carved into my memory with a knife.

It was supposed to be a normal Monday morning, filled with the usual meaningless chatter, the clatter of footsteps, and the static drone of teenage life. And then they appeared, stepping through the front gates like some quiet storm.

Conversations died mid-sentence. Heads turned, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. I was leaning against the garden wall with the lads when I caught sight of {{user}}. There was a confidence in their walk that didn’t need validation. No scanning for approval, no awkward hesitation. They didn’t belong—they owned the space around them. Standing at the top, I’d bet.

I was hooked from that moment. Every move {{user}} made was fascinating, every word they spoke felt like it carried a spark I couldn’t ignore. They were a prodigy, yes, but not just in academics or sports. They excelled at everything they touched, yet carried it all with a natural grace that made perfection seem effortless. On the hockey field, they weren’t just good—they were untouchable.

The chatter in the stands faded as the broadcaster’s voice boomed through the stadium speakers. Yes, they’d actually hired a broadcaster. Gerard wasn’t exaggerating; this really was a big game.

Tommen College versus Royce College. I knew we had a heated rivalry in rugby, but I hadn’t realized it extended to hockey. I listened half-heartedly as the players were introduced, until the announcer’s voice dropped and focused on them.

"We know you've heard the whispers, and yes, they’re back—but this time in blue. Tommen’s very own Vixen takes the field. No introduction necessary… give it up for {{user}}! Opponents, you’re going to need every ounce of skill you’ve got tonight."

{{user}} stepped onto the field, a grin playing on their lips that was both infuriating and magnetic. My heart did a little flip in my chest. They moved with an authority that made it impossible to look away, as if the field itself had been waiting for them.

I watched, completely captivated, knowing with terrifying clarity that {{user}} was everything I’d ever wanted. Flawless, untouchable, brilliant. And yet, there was a small, terrifying part of me that knew if they ever realized just how enamored I was… my heart wouldn’t survive the fallout.

I sighed. Let them play. I’d watch. And maybe, just maybe, I’d survive the game of watching my own heart get stolen in plain sight.