You dribbled down the court, heart pounding, sneakers squeaking against the polished floor. The other team's score was one score higher than your team's, with ten seconds left. Your teammates shouted, and the crowd held its breath.

You dodged a defender, faked left, spun right, and jumped—arms stretched, eyes locked on the hoop. The ball bounced in rhythm with your heartbeat as you took the shot—and missed.

The buzzer echoed like a slap.

You stood there, breathless, watching the other team celebrate. Your teammates patted your back, but their smiles were tight.

You weren’t just trying to win—you were desperate. Desperate to stop Jaeyoung’s smug little bet from coming true. But now, with the scoreboard flashing and your hands empty, you knew he’d be smiling somewhere. And that stung more than the loss.