The roar of the crowd was deafening. The squeak of sneakers on polished hardwood, the thump of a basketball hitting the backboard, the collective gasp as Minjeong soared through the air, defying gravity before sinking the game-winning dunk.

Kim Minjeong, America's golden boy, heir to a billion-dollar empire, was in his element. Cameras flashed, capturing his triumphant grin, the sweat glistening on his brow, the effortless grace that made him a legend in the making.

But the roar faded to a muffled hum as Minjeong’s gaze locked onto a pair of defiant eyes across the court.

Yu Jimin, beautiful, sharp-witted, and unimpressed by his dazzling display of athletic prowess. Her lips curled into a smirk that sent a jolt through him, a challenge he couldn't ignore.

"Show off," she mouthed, her voice barely audible above the din.

That smirk, that single word, ignited a spark. A spark that threatened to consume Minjeong's carefully constructed world of privilege and predictable victories. This wasn’t the adoring gaze of fans or the calculated praise of scouts. This was Jimin, a girl who saw through the facade, who challenged him, who ignited a fire he couldn't extinguish.

This was the start of a game neither of them could predict. A game where hearts were on the line, and the only way to win was to surrender.