The gym was quiet in the early morning haze, the hardwood floor still gleaming from its last polish. The sun hadn't yet fully climbed into the sky, and the stadium lights were just beginning to hum awake.
Nikola arrived early.
He liked the stillness before the storm. There was something grounding about standing in the same gym where so much had happened the day before. He took a few deep breaths, eyes sweeping across the empty stands and pristine court. Today would be different. He could feel it.
Soon after, two familiar figures made their way up the stands.
"Yo, there's Nikola," Aleksandar said with a small wave as he climbed the steps beside Hao.
The two teammates took their usual seats, settling into the familiar view of the gym floor below. Aleksandar stretched his arms above his head and glanced sideways.
"Is Vinnie already hiding out in the VIP room again?" he asked with a smirk.
Hao gave a lazy nod, not even looking. "Yeah. I saw him head in just as we came through the gate."
Aleksandar leaned forward on his knees, scanning the gym below. The drills hadn't started yet. Players were still trickling in, chatting, stretching, tying their shoes.
With a bit more curiosity, he asked, "So… what do you think they'll make them do today? The tryouts haven't started yet, but I feel like it's gonna be different."
Hao paused for a moment, then shrugged.
"I honestly don't know. Last season, I couldn't make it to tryouts. And in my first season, I didn't even go through them. I got signed straight out same as you. Back then, the team was still in the third division. We only had one rookie spot."
He leaned back against the railing, thoughtful.
"Last year, Vinnie was the one who got signed from tryouts. But I never really asked him what exactly they had to do. Could've been drills, scrimmages, interviews no clue."
Aleksandar rested his chin on his hand, his eyes now locked on Nikola, who was dribbling an invisible ball in the middle of the court, mentally preparing.
"I guess we'll see," he said, almost to himself. Then, with a small smile, he added, "I hope Nikola gets signed. He's been killing it so far."
Hao glanced over at Nikola as well, a small flicker of something like respect in his calm eyes.
"We'll see," he said simply. "Today's the real test."
The gym's buzz was slowly rising sneakers squeaked, balls bounced, low voices murmured over the rising hum of anticipation.
From the far end of the court, the heavy door swung open, and Kris stepped in.
He stood still for a moment, eyes sweeping over the sea of players warming up, stretching, or nervously pacing in their own bubbles of focus. Then his gaze landed on Nikola.
With a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, Kris walked over.
Nikola noticed him and turned, breaking into a quick smile as the two met at center court.
Clap.
Their palms met in a smooth dap up, followed by a quick shoulder bump.
"Yo," Kris said with a calm smile, his voice steady but his eyes sharp. "You ready for today?"
Nikola let out a small breath, nodding. "Yeah... as ready as I'll ever be."
For a second, they just stood there, eyes locked in mutual understanding. The weight of the day ahead hung between them like an invisible line neither wanted to cross just yet.
"You know," Kris began, his tone shifting slightly more serious, "no hard feelings, right? If one of us gets signed and the other doesn't."
Nikola nodded slowly, a flicker of tension passing through his jaw. "Of course. We both gave it everything. That's all we can do."
Kris looked away for a moment, then back at him with a smirk. "Still... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want it more than anything right now."
Nikola gave a short chuckle, though his eyes didn't lose their edge. "Yeah. Me too."
There was silence again, but this time it wasn't awkward. It was the silence of two people who respected each other, who had pushed one another all this way and now, stood at the cliff's edge, waiting to see who would fly.
"Let's both show them what we've got," Kris finally said, bumping Nikola's fist.
Nikola nodded, voice low but firm. "No regrets."
The hum of the gym deepened as more players began to trickle in, their movements a mix of calm confidence and quiet anxiety. Shoes tapped the hardwood floor, balls bounced with rhythmic purpose, and short conversations floated through the space but all of it quieted the moment the coaching staff appeared through the side entrance.
At the front was Kumstrim, his familiar clipboard under one arm and a firm expression on his face. He walked to center court and grabbed the microphone set at the scorers' table.
With a single tap on the mic, all conversation ceased.
"Good morning, everyone," Kumstrim began, his voice echoing clearly across the arena. "I'm glad to see all 24 of you showed up today."
His eyes swept across the gym, scanning the players standing in small clusters.
"I want to start by wishing you all luck. Today's format will be different from what we've done so far. You'll be playing 3 on 3 games."
Murmurs broke out across the gym. A few heads turned in surprise. Nikola's heart skipped a beat as he glanced at Kris across the court, who gave a faint nod of acknowledgment.
"You'll be separated into eight teams of three, and we'll be running a single elimination style tournament," Kumstrim continued. "From there, the coaching staff will be selecting the six most promising players to move on to the final day of tryouts."
A quiet tension tightened the air.
"That being said, just because your team loses early doesn't mean you're automatically out. This isn't just about winning. It's about what you show us your effort, your skills, your attitude. Of course, if your team goes far, you'll simply have *more chances* to show us what you're worth."
Kumstrim gestured behind him as an assistant rolled over a tall whiteboard.
"The teams have already been set," he said. "We matched you up based on your strengths, weaknesses, and overall playstyles. We did our best to give each of you teammates that complement your game."
Heads turned toward the board, players craning their necks to find their names.
"Two games will be played simultaneously," he finished. "So you'll have 30 minutes to warm up, meet your teammates, and prepare yourselves. This is your moment so make it count."
He clicked the microphone off and stepped aside, leaving the players with buzzing thoughts and racing hearts.
Nikola wiped his hands on his shorts and turned toward the board.