Somewhere at night, Saya was sprawled out on her bed like a starfish, propped up against what felt like a hundred pillows, or maybe just four or five, but it felt like a mountain.

The room was dark except for the soft blue glow from her phone screen, which made her face look kind of ghostly, like when you shine a flashlight under your chin for spooky stories.

Her thumb moved lazily up and down, scrolling through the Underground’s breakball forums and social media feeds, but her expression? Total annoyance.

"Ugh... this guy again," she muttered, pressing her lips together so hard they almost disappeared.

Blacklist’s name was everywhere, again. Every other post was either gushing over Nash Blaze’s latest moves or making wild guesses about some drama inside the team. She’d been following them for days now, ever since that cocky little guy had rejected her. And the hype? Ridiculous. Like, people were losing their minds over this team.

Then one post made her stop scrolling.

"Drex officially out of Blacklist. No statement from the team or the Manager. Fans in shock."

She sat up a little straighter, tapping the post so she could read more. The comments were flooding in fast:

"Wasn’t that guy their best shooter? What the heck happened?"

"He scored 28 points last game. Why would they let their best player go?"

"Bet there’s some drama behind the scenes."

"Blacklist is gonna crash and burn lol."

Just then, the door to her tiny apartment opened. Heavy footsteps followed, along with the rustling of paper bags and a yawn so loud it could wake up the neighbors, if they weren’t already awake, which they probably were because the walls were thin.

"Hey, babe. Got the food," Roam called out. "Extra spicy fries and that double-cheese burger monstrosity you love. You better still be awake because..."

He froze mid-sentence when he saw her. She was totally absorbed in her phone, legs tucked under her, hair a mess from lying down for so long. Roam just stood there in the doorway for a second before sighing like a dramatic actor in a soap opera.

"Again? You’re watching that shrimp’s highlights again? Come on, Saya. I brought food and everything."

At first, she didn’t even look up.

"Not highlights. News." Finally, she glanced at him, waving her phone around like it was evidence in a court case. "One of Blacklist’s players left yesterday. People are saying he was really good. Like, top-tier shooter good. Why would they just let someone like that walk away?"

Roam kicked the door shut behind him, probably harder than necessary, and dropped the fast-food bags on the small table with a loud thud. He stretched his arms overhead, his joints cracked like popcorn, then flopped onto the edge of the bed. The mattress groaned under his weight.

"Finally, some good drama," he said, suddenly way more interested. His eyes lit up like a kid spotting candy. "Fighting already? Bet that shrimp got owned in practice and the other dude just dipped. About time that pretty-boy team starts falling apart."

Saya gave him a look so full of disgust it could’ve melted paint.

"Of course that’s where your brain goes. You’re a real trash. You only get happy when you think other people are as miserable as you."

Roam just grinned, completely unbothered. He reached over, stole a fry from one of the bags, and crunched it loudly.

"Hey, I’m just being realistic. He’s just one guy, he can’t carry the whole team. If their best shooter just left, something’s definitely wrong. They probably ticked him off."

Saya rolled her eyes but kept scrolling, reading more comments.

"No official reason yet. Management just said it was a ’mutual decision’ or whatever. But fans are losing it. Everyone’s saying he was one of their best scorers. If he’s really gone... this is gonna be a huge problem for them. Especially with all the hype they’ve been building."

Roam leaned in closer, suddenly way too excited for someone who claimed not to care about Nash.

"Oh man, I hope it blows up in their faces. Imagine the next game, Nash trying to carry the whole team while everyone else crumbles. I’ll be front row if tickets drop."

Saya shoved his shoulder half-heartedly.

"You’re impossible. You hate Nash so much it’s actually sad. The guy is one of the most talked-about players right now. And guess what? You’re not alone. Scalpers are fighting over tickets for Blacklist’s next games. People want to see what he can do without all his guns."

"Yeah, yeah," Roam muttered through a mouthful of fries. "We’ll see how long that hype lasts when things start falling apart. One guy leaves, then two, then boom, whole team implodes. Classic."

Saya didn’t answer right away. She just stared at a slow-motion clip about Drex’s shooting someone had posted. It didn’t make sense, why would a team let a player like that walk right before things got serious?

She lowered her phone slightly, her forehead creasing like a wrinkled napkin.

"Something feels weird," she said softly.

"Yeah, yeah, the start of their downfall. Pass me the sauce, babe." Roam snorted.

Saya tossed him the packet without looking, her mind still racing. The Underground breakball scene was heating up fast. And like it or not, Nash was right in the middle of it, especially due to upcoming challenge Blacklist was about to face: the Raptors.

The Underground’s breakball scene was buzzing like crazy, everyone was talking about it.

By noon, #BlacklistVsRaptors was the top trending thing everywhere. People were losing their minds over it. This wasn’t just any game, this was Blacklist’s first real shot at proving themselves against one of the top teams out there.

Raptors Official

Tonight we welcome the new girls to the slaughterhouse 🦖💀

See you at 9. Bring body bags. #RaptorsSeason #BlacklistWho

And the replies? Pure madness.

@HoopKing87

"Laughing my ass off, Blacklist really thought they were ready? 😂 Raptors got six players on Jaz’s level. Nash’s grandkids gonna feel that dunk."

@UndergroundPimp

"Y’all sleeping on Nash. Bro’s been dropping forty points like it’s nothing. But yeah, this is his first real test. Let him cook."

@LoliDefender

"They let Drex leave?? THEIR BEST SHOOTER?? This team’s already. Blacklist is finished, for real."

@FatPussyFanatic

"Nash and Jaz got that energy. Raptors play dirty, but Blacklist got that dog in them. Betting five grand on Blacklist pulling off the upset."

@RealistiCuck

"Okay but, Raptors lost to the worst team two weeks ago. Either they got paid to lose or they’re playing like trash right now. This might actually be close."

@VictoriaSimp

"Day 46 of asking Victoria’s adress" 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

@ManOfDedication

"If Nash scores fifty tonight? I’m getting his name tattooed on my anus. No joke."

The whole city was talking. Ticket resellers were making bank. Even people who didn’t care about Blacklist before were tuning in. Everyone wanted to see, was Nash really that good, or was he just hype?

Meanwhile, in some run-down part of town, under flickering neon signs and the distant rumble of trains, Nash Blaze was finishing up his solo practice.

Dude was DRENCHED. Sweat everywhere. He’d been out there for hours, dribbling, shooting, running drills over and over until his muscles moved without thinking. He let out a rough breath and pulled up his stats screen.

Point Allocation

- Stamina +2

- Rebound +1

- Strength +2 → MAXED

A rush of energy shot through his body. Strength was finally maxed out. He rolled his shoulders, feeling heavier, stronger. Now, surely, Jaz wouldn’t be able to dominate him that badly in bed.

Then, a towel dropped over his head from behind, covering his face.

"You look way too serious for someone just practicing alone, superstar."

That voice. Smooth, teasing. Nash grinned under the towel before pulling it off. Zayela stood there, arms crossed, smirking. She was wearing a cropped hoodie and tight leggings, hair pulled up in a messy bun.

Nash wrapped the towel around his neck, stepping close enough that their arms almost touched.

"Maybe I’m practicing how to deal with someone who keeps sneaking up on me," he said. He reached out and flicked her forehead lightly. "Or maybe I knew you were coming and wanted to look cool."

Zayela laughed. She stepped even closer, hands pressing against his sweaty chest like she didn’t care.

"You always look cool," she murmured, eyes bright. "Even when you’re pretending you’re not nervous."

They stayed like that for a second, close, easy. Nash leaned down and kissed her temple. Zayela hummed, fingers tracing the new muscle in his arms.

"You worried about tonight?" she asked quietly, pulling back just enough to see his face.

Nash sighed, glancing at the empty court.

"A little. Raptors have quite the reputation down there. And without Drex... we’re missing our best shooter. Feels like walking into a fire without armor. I wonder if it’s a good time to try my new..."

He almost mentioned the new passives he’d acquired, but retracted right on time. Maybe this was proof that he was really nervous?

Zayela studied him, then smiled softly. She cupped his cheek, wiping away sweat with her thumb.

"Hey," she said. "You’ve been carrying this team since day one. Even without one guy, you’ve got plenty of beautiful teammates. You’ve got heart. And most importantly..." She poked his chest. "You’ve got me screaming like an idiot for you. So go out there and remind everyone why Nash Blaze scares them."

Nash’s face softened. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm.

"You always know what to say."

Zayela grinned, stepping back but keeping hold of his fingers.

"And if you play like the beast I know you are tonight..." She leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, "I’ve got a surprise waiting for you tomorrow. Something you’ll really, really like."

Nash raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of surprise?"

She winked and walked backward toward the street.

"A surprise. Gotta earn it first, superstar."

Nash laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed his bag and followed her.

"You’re dangerous, you know that?"

"Only for you."

They walked away, Zayela’s arm hooked through his, heading toward the bright city lights. Nash called a car to take her back to the team’s hotel.

Tonight? Tonight was gonna be war.

The Raptors weren’t just another team, they were a machine built to crush people.

And Blacklist? They were walking in anyway.

Ready or not.