Pauley Pavilion, UCLA

Nestled amid a mosaic of meticulously maintained green fields was a structure that beckoned athletes into its heart. The Pavilion, renowned for hosting accomplished athletes nationwide, now opened its doors to three gymnastics teams representing each coast of the country. One of which was its very own home team who were prepping themselves in the back of the complex. And among the dozen slim yet strong ladies who gossiped about the end of the quarter, one lady sat off to the side and was filled with a slightly different resolve.

Chelsea tuned out the chatter and blurred the world around her, as she concentrated on her stretches; making sure she was nimble, agile, and above all a formidable athlete for what laid ahead. But deep down, there was something else on her mind. Last night's adventure gave the gymnast a newfound sense of purpose for her athletic life. Every rep at the gym, every practice session with her team, and every moment to train by herself brought a dual purpose for her scholarship and now for her suit.

As she laid to her side on a cushioned mat and extended an arm and leg into the air, she felt her core begin to burn as she pushed herself to loosen up. This searing sensation was another indication that she needed a new training regimen to become more resilience and keep herself in peak shape. Though the gym mats offered cushioning for her errors, the hard pavement outside in the world was much less forgiving...

"Chelse!"

A voice called out, pulling her back from her own thoughts. She stood up straight and noticed Monica signaling her to join the rest of the team. It had become a sort of a tradition for each of them to challenge one another with stunts as a way to unwind in a non-judgmental space before competitions. This time, her best friend Brittany was in the middle of a handstand and steadily making her way toward her. Chelsea shifted to the side and watched as her friend approached her and gave a playful wink. Brittany's entire blonde bod was on full display with her form held together by her deep blue leotard. Chelsea, in contrast, had continued to use her suit's adaptive features to craft a leotard that not only enhanced her aerodynamically but also eliminated the necessity for tacky " glue" to avoid any unintended mishaps during her routines.

After a few more seconds of walking, her friend leaned over and stood back upright with a brightly red, but smiling, face.

Brittany turned her attention to her friend, "Your turn Chelse. Backflips."

"How many?" Chelsea asked as she adjusted her stance.

"Hmm... from here to that wall," Brittany replied as she dusted off her hands.

Chelsea positioned herself to face the nearest wall and estimated at least four flips. She raised her hands above her head and mentally prepared herself. She took a deep breathe before she swung her hands almost two full rotations and propelled herself off the mat and into the air. Time seemed to stand still around her as Chelsea's body momentarily became horizontal before pulling her in her legs towards her torso. Just as her head pointed toward the floor, she tightly grasped her thighs and gracefully arced her body to land upright and on her feet. But the challenge wasn't complete and so she did one more. But to her surprise, after she executed her second flip she realized that her back was already making contact with the wall.

She paused for a moment and confusingly brushed her hand against the porous concrete wall before looking towards her teammates who were clapping and cheering for her. As she dusted off her hands, their coach entered the room and offered a compliment on Chelsea's improved stride. Chelsea returned a smile and regrouped with the rest of the team. Their coach then delivered a motivational pep talk just before receiving the signal for the start of the competition.

"Go time ladies~" The Coach Powell said as she led them through the dark exit and into the brightly lit stadium.

As they walked towards the main stage, Chelsea looked across the main stage and watched as both teams filed in.

The Oklahoma team immediately captured her attention with their distinctive crimson and cream outfits. The vibrant red accents mirrored the dynamism and vigor with which they approached their routines, while the white elements added a touch of elegance, prominently displayed to flatter the judges at the end of their performances. Adorning their sleeves were the school's initials, "OU," embellished with an array of sparkling sequins that shimmered under the bright spotlights. Chelsea was quite familiar with them, having encountered their teams in previous events like the Super 16 and other competitions.

She then shifted her gaze toward the other corner of the floor and saw their second competitor enter. Cornell, representing the Atlantic conference, was a newcomer to the pavilion but were renowned for their past performances. The intriguing mix of two deep colors, red and black, on their outfits symbolized the team's legendary strength and boldness. However, it wasn't just their attire that caught Chelsea's attention. Amidst the brunettes, blondes, and redheads on their team a tall blonde gymnast stood out with a distinctive look and posture that set her apart from her peers.

Her delicate face presented a harmonious blend of angles and curves, featuring smoky pink lips and cool blue eyes that held an ethereal stare. She didn't look as cheerful as her other teammates, rather she gave off something that was more intense, even animalistic, directed towards her opposition. Her attitude seamlessly matched her strong yet sleek form that perhaps came from years of practice as a child. There was something about her that Chelsea found intriguing. Perhaps it was way she carried herself. Perhaps it was her clearly fit and tough stature. Whatever it was, Chelsea felt a nagging feeling cling onto her as she stared at the back of her platinum blonde hair.

---

After a few hours of beams, vaults, and other routines, each school stood together and awaited the final results from the judges. Chelsea, who was a bit out of breath from her last floor routine, had excelled in a majority of her performances and contributed to her school's lead in the last session. As she leaned against Monica, she looked to her side and observed the gymnast of interest impatiently tapping her toes on the chalk dusted ground. The platinum blonde gymnast, announced as Felicity, was Cornell's top performer and earned nearly the same marks as Chelsea.

However, it wasn't enough for the win, as the announcer declared UCLA the victor.

Chelsea breathed a deep sigh of relief as a chorus of cheers erupted from her equally tired and sweaty teammates. The team gathered for several pictures with their trophy before dispersing to meet the other teams; exchanging fist bumps as a gesture of sportswomanship. Chelsea navigated through the crowd, exchanging bumps with a few familiar Oklahoma University gymnasts before zeroing in on someone she truly wanted to meet. She approached Felicity and instead of using their fists, the two locked eyes and shook hands. As they made contact, Chelsea felt a chill run down her spine that made her gradually loosen her grip. And just before they broke off, Felicity gave the asian athlete a particular smirk that set off alarm bells in her mind.

It dawned on her that something was indeed unique about Felicity. The athleticism, the hair, and that look...

"But... it couldn't be..." She thought to herself as she watched the veiled gymnast disappear into the dark entryway towards the visitor's locker rooms.

It all had to be a complete coincidence. But there was one way to find out.

Chelsea turned around and exited the stadium with the rest of her teammates but took a slight detour that skipped the lockers and led straight outside. As she pushed the exit doors wide open, her eyes stared into the nearly pitch black autumn night with only a handful of overhead street lamps providing minimal illumination. Though the competition had extended into the night, this gave her an opportunity to remain in stealth as she sought to confirm her suspicions. She swiftly moved toward a shadowy cluster of trees facing the coach buses and crouched herself in the darkness; patiently waiting for Felicity's team to board. As she waited, she felt a chilling gust of wind whip through her exposed legs and shoulders, causing her to shiver in the cold.

Chelsea cautiously looked around to check if the coast was clear before muttering the trigger word, "Venom".

As soon as the word left her lips, she felt a tingling sensation growing underneath her hips. The hem of her leotard began to untangle into a series of sticky tendrils, with the mission of weaving itself over her willing body. It traveled down her exposed legs, leaving behind a trail of its supple, yet super elastic, fabric that accentuated her toned form and highlighting every sinuous line of her calves. As it wrapped underneath her ankles, it took great care to pad her soles with ample cushioning for her urban acrobatic performance through the skies of Los Angeles. However, it didn't stop there. No daring acrobatic performance would be possible without all limbs being under its jurisdiction. With her current leotard, the symbiote had an easier time stretching over her arms and coating her fingers in a pair of fully molded gloves. With only her head left, the remaining ooze split into two pieces to finish the job. One mass webbed itself underneath her jaw, while another crawled along her crown, tying her equally black hair into a long lush ponytail. The two pieces soon met over her face and left two half-moon eyes that peered through the gloomy night.

With her entire form now underneath the suit, she felt an unencumbered warmth pulse throughout her body as the symbiote clenched once more and firmly sealed itself over her. She found herself reflexivity clenching her fists and feeling a wave of power surge along her biceps and down her spine. She couldn't deny how much she missed this feeling. The feeling of warmth. The feeling of free embrace. And the feeling of untapped power.

As she basked in a resurgence of body warmth and vigor, the doors to pavilion opened as Felicity's team made their way to their coach bus bound for their hotel. Chelsea patiently waited for their vehicle to leave before tailing them from overhead as they traveled east. She hoped that they weren't too far from the campus, and within a few minutes the bus came to a stop in front of a luxury hotel adjacent to the Beverly Hills City Hall and Rodeo Drive; the same area she had been in a day earlier.

While the bus emptied out in front of the complex, Chelsea quickly climbed down from a nearby parking structure and dived into a patch of bushes to hide from the surrounding lights. As she landed, she willed her suit once more in order to better blend in with the other girls.

She landed on the pavement unscathed with a patterned red and black leotard underneath a black hoodie and white sneakers. She peeked her head around the corner before walking towards the hotel and attempting to blend in with the group of other gymnasts. As she approached the entrance, a pair of doormen greeted the inconspicuous college athlete and opened the doors to reveal a lavish five star hotel with a lobby filled with a dozen chatty college girls.

"Freshen up ladies; we've got dinner in a half an hour. Be down in 10," their assistant coach said as groups of ladies entered the elevator lobby.

As Chelsea continued to watch from afar, she kept her gaze locked in on her target as Felicity entered an elevator and requested for her floor. Chelsea quickly darted across the lobby and called for another elevator to take her up while taking note of where the other elevator stopped. She followed them up and arrived just in time to see a brief glimpse of Felicity entering her room.

"Crap," Chelsea sighed as she realized that she didn't have a way to get in.

She looked around the floor and noticed a housekeeping cart that had been left unattended. She snuck up to it and heard a hotel worker humming to herself in a vacant room's bathroom. Chelsea looked around the cart and found a pair of master key cards sitting in a well on the handle and nabbed one for herself. With a card in hand, she turned back towards the adjacent hallway and hid in the nearby ice machine room until Felicity and her teammates left for dinner.

After a few heart pounding minutes, she looked around and saw the coast all clear before casually making her way to the room in question. She looked down at the handle to see a "DO NOT DISTURB" sign dangling on the door handle.

She snickered to herself before dipping her card into the slot and seeing the lock indicator turn from red to green; giving her passage. Just as she placed her hand on the door handle, she froze and felt, for the first time in over an hour, the gravity fo what she was about to do. Never had she been this brazen to stalk and now trespass into a stranger's room.

She could be caught at any moment. She could be thrown in jail, loose her scholarship, get kicked off the team, and get expelled from school. What was she doing!?

But...

Chelsea took a deep breathe before pushing down on the handle.

But... the thrill and the intrigue of it all was too much for her to let pass by. She wanted answers. She wanted to know who the thief was. She had a gut feeling that she needed to satisfy; to see if her hunch was correct. And, above all, she wanted to get back at the person who caused her pain.

With that, she carefully pushed open the door and let herself in; breaking the law in the name of justice and revenge.