After the wingspan measurement, something in Nikola quietly cracked.
He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the mask was wearing thin. Behind his eyes, a storm was brewing a twisted mix of doubt, insecurity, and the growing ache of jealousy. He couldn't stop comparing himself. To Thiseas. To Fermín. To the silent judgment in Kumstrim's eyes that maybe wasn't even there but felt so real.
His shoulders hung low. His eyes stayed glued to the floor.
And that was when Kumstrim's voice boomed again through the microphone.
"Next up, we'll be measuring standing vertical leap and max vertical leap. All participants, line up again."
The other players moved with quiet urgency, like dogs trained for the whistle.
But Nikola… he stood still.
Like a man stuck in the mud.
By the time he forced his feet to move, the line had already begun. The first player stepped forward and Nikola couldn't help but notice him.
Dark skin. Cornrow braids. No shirt. Broad shoulders. Chiseled abs.
His physique made Thiseas look like an off season lifter. And though he was maybe a few centimeters shorter, the way he carried himself… it was like watching an apex predator stretch before the hunt.
Nikola narrowed his eyes.
"Another freak of nature? Seriously? How many of these guys are there?"
Kumstrim called for the standing vertical leap first.
The player took position flat footed, no running start and without a sound, he launched himself into the air like a spring loaded machine.
His hand smacked the vertical jump tester far higher than anyone else so far.
The sound echoed.
The silence after it was deafening.
Even Kumstrim's usually calm face twitched with interest as he checked the number.
Nikola stared, his fists slowly tightening by his sides.
"How am I supposed to beat guys like this?"
"How do you compete with someone who was just… born like that?"
The jealousy in his chest tightened, twisted, and burned. It didn't even feel like anger. It felt like a quiet, poisonous fire slowly eating away at whatever confidence he had left.
He hadn't even jumped yet, and already he felt like he'd lost.
Now it was time for that same player to perform his max vertical leap this time with a running start.
The gym seemed to lean forward in anticipation as the player took a few smooth steps, his muscles moving like a coiled spring then he exploded off the ground.
His body seemed to hang in the air longer than what felt natural.
He soared up and smacked the vertical jump tester with ease even higher than before.
A low murmur passed through the other players. Some were impressed. Some intimidated.
But Nikola didn't react.
Not this time.
There was no room left for awe in his chest only a numbness carved out by self doubt. Like a fog that refused to lift, it dulled his senses and buried what little confidence he had left.
He slowly walked to the back of the line, trying to quiet the noise in his head. But Kumstrim's voice rang out over the gym floor before he could escape it.
"Jamie: Standing Vertical Leap 41 inches. Max Vertical Leap 45 inches."
Nikola stopped mid step.
His eyes widened. Forty five?
Now he was shocked.
Even after everything, even after telling himself of course he'll jump high, the actual number still hit him like a cold slap.
"Forty five inches... that's elite."
It wasn't just raw talent. That number belonged to the kind of player that turned heads, that made coaches take notes and scouts get on the phone.
Nikola could only stare, clenching his jaw.
Please, he thought, let mine at least be half as good.
But even that felt like wishful thinking now.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, stepped into line, and tried to brace himself for what came next.
Finally, the last name was called.
"Nikola," Kumstrim said, clipboard in hand.
Nikola stepped forward, sluggish and spiritless. His shoulders were low. His gaze was hollow. The fire he had once brought with him to Argentina the excitement, the hope, the dreams it had all but vanished.
He took his place beneath the vertical leap tester.
Kumstrim gave him a nod.
"Begin when you're ready. We'll start with the standing vertical leap."
Nikola barely gave a reaction. He crouched slightly and jumped.
It was quiet. No gasps. No murmurs of surprise. Just the faint slap of his hand brushing the lowest marker.
When he landed, he looked up and instantly regretted it.
Compared to Jamie's soaring leap, his jump looked like half the height. Maybe less.
But he didn't flinch. He didn't sigh. He didn't show it.
Because there was nothing left to show.
This… this was the moment it all hit him. Not just the height difference or the stats. But the truth raw and painful. That maybe… just maybe... he wasn't cut out for this.
That maybe dreaming wasn't enough.
"Max vertical leap," Kumstrim called, eyes flicking up from the clipboard.
Nikola nodded numbly and took a few steps back for the run up.
He sprinted. He jumped.
And as he reached the peak of his ascent if you could even call it that he felt it deep in his chest. Like even gravity wasn't fighting him anymore.
Like the world had already decided where he belonged.
He landed softly, almost embarrassed to take up space.
Kumstrim looked at the numbers and read them aloud, voice steady and neutral.
"Standing Vertical Leap: 24.5 inches. Max Vertical Leap: 28 inches."
The gym was silent. Not because anyone cared but because no one did.
Nikola stood there, his heart crumbling behind his ribs. His chest tightened. His throat itched. Even my best effort looks laughable next to them…
It wasn't just disappointment. It wasn't frustration.
It was something colder, deeper a quiet, sinking realization that he might have reached his limit.
That the dream he had dragged across continents might not be strong enough to carry him further.
And as he walked back to the sidelines, one step at a time, head down, shoulders heavy
Nikola knew:
He had finally hit rock bottom.