Heeseung the well-known basketball star and smartest guy at your school likes you.

The gym buzzes with energy as you walk past, the sound of sneakers squeaking and the sharp swish of the basketball slicing through the net filling the air. Of course, he's there- Lee Heeseung, number 01, the golden boy. He moves like he owns the court, every pass and shot effortless, like he was born for this.

The crowd chants his name - "Heeseung! Heeseung!" but in the middle of it all, his eyes scan the crowd... and land right on you.

For a split second, his intense game face softens. A small smile, just for you, Your heart stumbles in your chest.

Later, you find him again but this time, it's not on the court. It's the library.

He's hunched over a thick calculus textbook, glasses low on his nose, pencil tapping lightly against his notes. Around him, people steal glances, whisper about how he's not just the best player he's also the smartest guy at school. Straight A's. Honors. Full scholarship offers already lined up.

You tiptoe past him, trying not to disturb him but he catches you.

"Hey," he calls softly, tugging down his hoodie a little. "Sit with me?"

You blink, startled. You glance around he could ask anyone, but he's looking right at you.

You nod, settling across from him, pretending to study while you feel his gaze flicker over you again and again.

At some point, he leans closer, voice low so only you can hear "I was hoping you'd come watch my game tonight," he says, smirking a little. "I play better when you're there."

You agree, cheeks burning. And true to his word, that night, he plays like a man on fire.

The whole gym is on their feet, screaming and chanting, the score tied, and the tension so thick you can barely breathe.

You're standing near the court, clutching your books to your chest, heart hammering in sync with the countdown clock.

"Five... four... three..."

Heeseung, with the ball in his hands, is moving faster than you can track. His teammates shout, the defenders close in but he barely looks fazed. His eyes flicker once not at the basket, not at the scoreboard but at you.

And then, like it's the easiest thing in the world, he jumps, The ball leaves his hands, spinning perfectly through the air.

The buzzer sounds.

The crowd erupts. Screaming, cheering, people jumping out of their seats the gym is absolute chaos.

Heeseung's teammates are rushing toward him, the coach is yelling, people are chanting his name

But Heeseung doesn't even look at them. He's already running straight toward you.

Your breath catches as he stops right in front of you, still panting from the game, sweat dripping down his forehead, cheeks flushed.

Without thinking, without caring about the hundreds of eyes on him, he leans down so close you can hear his heartbeat and says, voice low and a little shaky "I didn't just win the game."

You blink, staring up at him.

"I like you," he says, smiling wider than you've ever seen him. "I've been wanting to tell you. I guess I just needed to win first."

For a moment, you forget how to breathe. The entire world fades out. It's just him, standing there waiting, hopeful, slightly nervous for the first time in forever.