The tryout drills were still going on, but Nikola had stepped away from the court for a brief moment. His throat felt dry, and his body heavy fatigue mixed with the sting of disappointment.
He wandered over to the vending machine in the corner of the hallway, eyes half lidded from mental exhaustion.
"Water... just some water..." he murmured, reaching for his pocket.
His hand fumbled inside.
Left pocket.
Right pocket.
"...Where the hell is my wallet?" Nikola whispered, eyes widening as he patted himself down with growing urgency. The one thing he didn't need right now was more stress.
As his frustration boiled quietly, a sharp voice snapped from behind him:
"Move."
The word hit like a shove.
Nikola turned around slowly, his mood already soured from a string of failures and insecurities.
And standing before him
Towering, shirtless, radiating effortless confidence
Was Jamie.
The same Jamie who had shattered expectations with a standing vertical of 41 inches, the player who made jumping look like flying. The guy Nikola had watched earlier with quiet awe... and growing envy.
Nikola's chest tightened.
It was as if the symbol of everything he wasn't yet stood before him... now annoyed and waiting for him to get out of the way.
For a moment, neither said anything.
Just the quiet hum of the vending machine, and the weight of bitter self awareness pressing on Nikola's shoulders.
The hum of the vending machine buzzed in Nikola's ears, a constant reminder of how off track everything had gone. His hands searched one last time through his pockets no wallet. Just another loss to add to the day.
But before he could process the frustration, a voice behind him snapped again, this time sharper.
"Are you gonna get something or not?You've been standing here for like a full minute. If not, move."
Nikola blinked.
The words were blunt too blunt. He was, staring into the familiar face of Jamie, the vertical leap phenom, the guy who had already made him feel like an afterthought.
Jamie didn't look angry. Just... impatient. As if what he'd said was completely normal.
Nikola stood frozen, taken aback.
He tried to respond, but before a word could leave his mouth, Jamie lightly shoved past him, almost casually, as if Nikola were just a door in his way. He slipped coins into the machine, grabbed a cold bottle of water, and twisted off the cap.
Something inside Nikola snapped.
He stepped forward fast shoulder squared, eyes burning getting right in Jamie's face.
"What's your problem?" he growled. "I was just looking for my wallet."
Jamie looked at him, genuinely confused.
"...What?"
There wasn't a trace of malice in his tone. Just mild surprise.
"I didn't mean anything, bro. Thought you were just standing there doing nothing. You didn't say anything, so I figured you weren't buying."
Nikola frowned, still tense, still waiting for the attitude.
Jamie tilted his head. Then casually reached into his pocket, pulled out a few coins, and bought a second bottle of water. He held it out toward Nikola without much ceremony.
"Here. You looked like you needed one."
Nikola didn't move at first, unsure if it was mockery or not.
But Jamie's face was calm, unreadable, like this was just... normal.
Without waiting for a thank you, Jamie turned and walked off, sipping from his bottle as if nothing strange had happened.
The plastic bottle in Nikola's hand was already half empty. He'd chugged the water Jamie had handed him, but it hadn't done much to cool the firestorm of self doubt still simmering in his chest. His hands trembled slightly not from nerves, but from the exhausting weight of disappointment.
Just then, Kumstrim's voice echoed once more through the arena, cutting through the low chatter like a buzzer.
"Alright everyone, line up again. Next drill: LANE AGILITY."
Nikola exhaled sharply, dragging his feet into position. He was somewhere in the middle of the line now, a purgatory between those who'd already impressed and those who still had something to prove.
He leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees, eyes on the floor tiles. "Just get this over with," he muttered to himself.
As he stood there waiting, something clicked in his mind a rare bit of relief.
"My wallet... it's in my bag. Aleksandar's holding it. At least I didn't lose it."
A small, fleeting win in a day full of emotional losses.
Finally, his name was called.
Kumstrim adjusted the stopwatch and gave him a nod.
"Step in. You're up."
Nikola took his stance at the baseline, the painted lines of the court like a battlefield under his feet.
"Go!"
He exploded into motion.
Quick cuts, shuffles, lateral slides.
It was all muscle memory, the kind of drill he'd done a hundred times. But his legs felt heavy. Not tired just weighed down by something more internal.
When it was over, Nikola stood tall, breathing hard, trying to guess from Kumstrim's expression if he'd done well.
Kumstrim looked down at his stopwatch, then called out:
"10.81 seconds."
Nikola's shoulders dropped slightly.
Not terrible.
Not great.
Somewhere in the middle.
Again.
Just like everything else today.
And as he walked off to the side, wiping sweat from his forehead, the only thing Nikola could think was:
"Middle of the pack... again. How am I supposed to stand out like this?"
Nikola leaned against the padded wall on the side of the court, arms loosely crossed, sweat still clinging to his skin. The drill was over for him but now, his eyes locked on the line of remaining players.
Specifically, on one of them.
Jamie.
He spotted him a few places down the line calm, loose, and looking like he hadn't broken a sweat all day. Nikola's gaze sharpened, watching every twitch of his muscles like a scout analyzing a rival.
There was no point pretending he wasn't curious. After all, Jamie had already crushed him in the vertical leap. What would he do in the lane agility?
Finally, Jamie stepped forward.
He moved like someone who'd done this a thousand times. Sharp steps. Clean cuts. His footwork was fluid, almost casual like his body already knew the rhythm of the drill before he even began.
The moment he crossed the line, Kumstrim checked his stopwatch and called out:
"Jamie - 10.45 seconds!"
Nikola blinked.
Not by much. But still...
Better.
As the sound of the number faded, Nikola let out a slow breath through his nose and whispered under it barely audible, even to himself:
"So I'm worse at this too..."
His fists clenched ever so slightly.
It wasn't rage.
It wasn't even frustration.
It was that quiet sting the one that cuts deeper than shouting ever could.
Just one more reminder that he was still standing in someone else's shadow.