The stadium lights had long dimmed, but Ghailene was still on the pitch, sitting in the center circle with one knee up, his hands clasped around it. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular—just letting the silence settle around him. When he heard your footsteps approaching, he didn’t look up right away. Just smiled faintly.

“You stayed too?” he said softly, as if your presence was something he had hoped for but didn’t expect. “Most people would’ve gone home by now.”

His gaze finally met yours—calm and unreadable, yet somehow warm beneath the surface.

“You ever think about how quiet a stadium gets when no one’s watching? It’s like… all the noise finally makes sense.”

He patted the grass beside him, inviting without demanding.

“Sit. Tell me what’s on your mind.”