The early morning sun on Saturday, September 7, 2015, was a pale, promising gold, filtering through a thin veil of clouds as it cast a soft glow over the quiet grounds of Dasmariñas National High. The usual weekend silence was broken by the low hum of a waiting bus and the murmurs of the basketball team, assembled in their travel warm-ups. Their faces, a familiar gallery of determination, reflected a potent mix of buzzing excitement and the taut nerves that precede a great challenge. Hearts thumped in a shared, rhythmic anticipation—the glory of the city meet was a fresh, sweet memory, but it was now overshadowed by the colossal test that lay before them.
Coach Gutierrez stood before them, a clipboard held loosely in one hand, his steady gaze circling the group, seeming to inspect and affirm the resolve of each player.
Coach Gutierrez said "Alright, listen up. Take a knee." His voice was calm, cutting through the nervous energy. "Look around you. These are the same guys you won a championship with. Nothing has changed. Except the stage is bigger, and the lights will be brighter. You were champions of the city. Today, you take the first step on a bigger journey."
He began to pace slowly, his footsteps the only sound for a moment.
Coach Gutierrez said "Calamba West High is formidable. They're the champions of Laguna for a reason. They're fast, they shoot well, and they're playing on their home turf. They will be loud and aggressive. Do not let them dictate the pace. We play our game. We control the tempo. We win this with disciplined defense and smart offense. We win as a team, or we learn as a team. There's no pressure here, only opportunity. Focus on the man next to you. Trust him."
A quiet fire sparked in their eyes as they exchanged determined looks.
Coach Gutierrez said "This bus ride is your time. Talk, laugh, listen to music—clear your minds. Rest your bodies. When we step off that bus in Laguna, we are one single unit with one single goal. Today, we begin writing a new story. Let's make the first chapter a memorable one. On the bus, let's go!"
The team filed onto their familiar bus, the worn seats quickly filling. The atmosphere inside was a paradox of relaxed camaraderie and charged potential. Gab was laughing at a story Mark was telling, while Felix and John were already dissecting defensive strategies in low voices.
Tristan found a seat near the middle, sliding in next to the window. Marco sat beside him, and Aiden took the seat across the aisle.
Marco Leaning back, hands behind his head
"Can you believe we're here? On our way to regionals. Feels like just yesterday we were just hoping to make it past the first round of the city meet." He nudged Tristan. "Come on, Cap. Relax a little. You've got that game-face on already. This is supposed to be the fun part."
Before Tristan could reply, Aiden leaned forward, a triumphant, almost goofy grin on his face that was impossible to ignore.
Aiden Beaming "Guys, you are not going to believe this. I finally did it. I asked her out properly, and… I got the yes from Christine. We're officially dating now."
The announcement rippled through the nearby seats. A few congratulations were thrown his way, but Tristan felt the air leave his lungs. He stiffened, the casual ease of the morning instantly evaporating. Surprise, sharp and cold, flashed in his eyes.
Tristan His voice barely above a whisper "Wait… Christine?"
The bus chatter seemed to quiet around them, the air suddenly thick with unspoken history.
Tristan Looking at Aiden, his expression a mixture of confusion and hurt "But… I told you, man. When I confessed to her, she said she wasn't ready for a relationship. That she needed to focus on her studies."
Aiden's triumphant grin softened into something more awkward. He shrugged, running a hand through his hair.
Aiden said "I don't know, man. I guess things change. We started hanging out more as friends after that… studying together and stuff. It just… happened. It felt right. She said she was ready now."
Tristan swallowed, a hard lump forming in his throat. He forced a smile, thin and brittle, but he made sure it was sincere. He looked Aiden in the eye.
Tristan said "Congrats, man. For real. I'm happy for you. For both of you."
Aiden Nodding, his relief palpable "Thanks, Tristan. I appreciate that. I wanted you to hear it from me first."
Tristan's gaze drifted out the window, the passing scenery of Cavite blurring into a meaningless wash of green and grey. The memory of his confession—the hope, the vulnerability, and the gentle rejection—played back in his mind with painful clarity. Aiden's news didn't just sting; it painted his own memories in a new, bittersweet light.
Marco nudged him again, this time gently.
Marco His voice low, for Tristan's ears only "Hey. You okay?"
Tristan took a deep breath and nodded, his voice steady when he spoke.
Tristan said "Yeah. It's all good. If she's happy, that's what matters."
Gab, who had overheard from the seat behind, leaned forward.
Gab said quietly "Coach said we're writing a new story. New paths mean new characters, Tristan. Maybe this is just one chapter closing so another one can begin. A different one, but just as real."
Tristan offered a small, grateful smile. He pulled out his phone, the need for a different connection suddenly pressing. He opened his messages, his thumb hovering for a second before typing.
Tristan (text): Hey. On the bus to Laguna now. Feeling the pre-game nerves already, lol.
A reply came back almost instantly.
Claire (text): *You're going to be amazing! The whole cheer squad is sending you guys all our energy! ✨ We made a new banner for you! *
A genuine smile touched Tristan's lips, chasing away some of the lingering ache.
Tristan (text): Wow, that's awesome! Tell everyone thanks. It means a lot. Seriously.
Claire (text): Just play your heart out like you always do. Don't think, just play. And remember to have fun! I'll be waiting to hear all about the big win tonight! Go get 'em, Captain! 💪
Tristan (text): Will do. Thanks, Claire.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, her words a warm balm on his bruised feelings. Gab was right. A new chapter.
The bus pulled into the sprawling parking lot of the Laguna Sports Complex. The arena was bigger than any they had played in before, and a buzzing crowd was already forming outside, a sea of red and white, the colors of Calamba West. Banners waved in the wind, and the sound of distant drums and chants filled the air.
As they filed out of the bus, the team's lighthearted chatter died down, replaced by a focused silence. They were on enemy territory.
Inside, the stadium was cavernous. The court seemed vast, surrounded by rising tiers of seats. Tristan and his teammates began their warm-up drills, the familiar rhythm of dribbling, passing, and shooting a grounding force amidst the intimidating new environment.
Coach Gutierrez His voice sharp, cutting through the growing noise of the crowd "Remember what we practiced! Communication on defense is key! They live and die by the three-pointer—contest every single shot! Play our game, stay focused!"
During a lay-up drill, Tristan's path crossed with Aiden's. For a moment, their eyes met. There was no tension, no awkwardness. Just an unspoken understanding. On this court, they were brothers, fighting for the same goal. They slapped hands in passing—a silent pact to leave everything else outside these lines.
As the warm-up ended, the team gathered in a tight huddle. The roar of the Calamba crowd was a physical force, pressing in on them. For a moment, Tristan closed his eyes, the butterflies in his stomach taking flight. He thought of the weeks of grueling practice, the sting of the news about Christine, the warmth of Claire's encouraging texts, and the unwavering trust of the teammates surrounding him. It all converged into this single, powerful moment.
This was their time. The first step on the long road to the Palarong Pambansa.
He opened his eyes, his gaze clear and sharp.
Tristan quietly said to himself "Let's go."
The referee picked up the ball and walked to the center circle. The final seconds before tip-off ticked away like a countdown to battle.