Twelve seconds on the clock, the crowd’s booming grows in volume, yet all the while he’s immune to it, deaf to the cheers and yells for him to go in for the kill. His sneakers squeak incessantly on the polished floor, threatening to throw his feet out from under him because the rubber ridges cannot grasp onto the wood covered in the sweat of who knows how many players in the game.

            They’re tied, both teams at 37 points. It’s been a while since Suncheon has had such a worthy rival, but it doesn’t mean that Suncheon has won every single game, though they didn’t lose by a significant amount either. The best players for the home team are out on the floor, same for the opposing.

            The time begins running again but breaths stop. Chanyeol, in all his glorious clumsiness for some reason has the ball, but the advantage of mile-long legs gives him more distance for his push, but the speed of shorter, opposing players counter it quickly. Basketball captain Yifan, or Kris, as he prefers is now in possession of the ball, but he can’t break through a wall of wide players who swipe out to get it from him but the blond isn’t captain for nothing. He spins on his heels, maneuvering around them only to have a surprise player jump out into his peripheral vision and tap the ball out of his control, the ball bouncing rapidly towards the boundaries of the court where no one is quite yet there but lunging towards.

            Seungtae is there in the blink of an eye, scooping the ball with a divine accuracy and he’s heading back down to the opposite end of the court towards the opponent’s net.

            Four seconds left.

            He doesn’t have time to get within the three-pointer ring. Not to mention the two larger rivals standing in his way and the herd stepping on his ankles. Beads of sweat are furiously rolling from his damp hairline, nearly blinding him. He can taste the saltiness on his upper lip. He doesn’t have time to think, not with Kris’ voice booming somewhere in the background, not with the audience yelling at him, he has to take that leap of faith.

            He throws the ball with a powerful arch of his wrist, stomach turning anxiously because he’s never really seriously practiced throwing at half court before, so he knows his chances of getting into the hoop are slim to none. His competitors turn, and for a long time, it seems as though everything had stopped, all was silent as every single pair of eyes were glued on the sight of the orange ball sailing ever so slowly across the room and-

            Everyone jumps out of their skin when the buzzer blares, time is out and the ball is…in?

            Seungtae is quick to snap his head to the scoreboard. 40 to 37. Home team, Suncheon, are victorious. He scored the winning shot.

            His ears are suddenly exploded with sound as the audience cheers and his teammates yell in his face, swarming around him and enveloping their sweat-slicked arms around him and suffocating his sense of smell with poor bodily hygiene and not enough deodorant. His breath is continuously thumped out of him as hands slap him on the back, breathing constricted around the throat in bone crushing hugs.

            Numbly he allows the rival school to deliver him bitter high fives of sportsmanship, smiling blankly at the crowd swarming him to congratulate him. He’s still dazed from surprise but comes back to Earth when his feet leave the ground and he’s hoisted over Kris’ and Chanyeol’s shoulders, the star yelping in surprise and grabbing onto the tops of their heads to steady himself. He only laughs as Kris scolds him for messing up his hair (for some reason even when he’s sweating waterfalls his mane is on point), not paying any mind to him as he looks out to the crowd cheering and clapping just for him.

---

Muffled yells and screaming are echoing down the corridor, probably from the gym while Baekhyun stares down at the lone piece of paper in the hallway. There are footprints on the colored sheet, probably from being stepped on by inconsiderate jerks in the school. He swiftly picks it up, attempting to brush off the dirt but it is to no avail, too many hooves had stamped it to the point it was practically illegible. He sighs, defeatedly making his way opposite of the noise, heading to the quietest wing of the school and entering the choir room.

Kyungsoo looks up from his desk, dancing pencil lifting from the paper as he smiles and gives the other his attention. “I take it our school won?” Baekhyun smiles weakly with a nod, unconsciously crumpling the paper ball in his hand because he doesn’t have the heart to show what had become of Kyungsoo’s amazing artwork for their advertising of the school Choir club.

Jongdae is in some odd corner of the room, occasionally bleating like a goat because that is apparently how he preps his voice. “Any new people?” He sing songs to Baekhyun who pushes his glasses up further on his nose only to have the specs fall back into their original place again.

“What do you think.” Baekhyun scoffs, sitting heavily beside Kyungsoo with a sigh. “We won’t ever get to competitions at this rate.”

“Don’t be like that.” Kyungsoo says sweetly while pinching Baekhyun’s ea