***
Everything had been going smoothly.
Until the stalker contacted me again, life had been ordinary.
Three messages on KakaoTalk shattered that ordinary life like glass. When my girlfriend asked if something was wrong, I couldn’t tell her I was being stalked, so I brushed it off as messages about assignments. She seemed suspicious, but she didn’t ask again.
She trusted me without question, and that made me feel guilty. We hadn’t even been dating long, and I was already keeping secrets. I hated myself for it.
The phone kept buzzing, making it impossible to focus on our date. I silenced it and shoved it into my pocket. I didn’t want to deal with it. I thought I could ignore it.
But throughout the movie, my mind was fixated on my phone. Even though it was on silent, I kept wondering if more messages were coming. What was the stalker saying? The curiosity was unbearable.
I fidgeted with my hand on my knee, trying to forget about the phone in my back pocket. My girlfriend kept glancing at me, sensing something was off.
Eventually, she placed her warm hand over my restless one. The warmth and weight on my shoulder slowly calmed my anxiety.
She didn’t say anything, but her gesture told me it was okay. That I didn’t have to talk about it. That she’d help me focus on the movie. That I could relax.
Maybe it was nothing to her, but I found comfort in it. I turned my hand to intertwine our fingers.
I was grateful. I was in love.
Thanks to her, I didn’t think about the stalker until we parted ways. How could I care about some stalker’s messages when I had someone so lovely by my side? I decided to ignore him. No replies, no reactions. Complete indifference. That was the solution. If I didn’t care, the stalker would lose interest. And right now, I had someone I needed to focus on.
Having a girlfriend felt like having a steadfast supporter. On the bus ride home, I checked my messages. All 199 of them were from the stalker. Without even opening them, I blocked the account.
If he was the stalker, he wouldn’t show himself again. He’d disappeared when I started actively looking for him. He was a coward. There was no need to fear a coward.
As soon as I got off the last bus, I heard a familiar sound.
The bounce of a basketball. My head turned instinctively.
A tall figure was dribbling on the empty court.
The only person tall enough to be dribbling at this hour near my place—
I immediately recognized him as Lee Heon and walked up behind him.
It was dark, and I thought he had his back to me, but as I got closer, I saw his face, hidden in the shadows. He was dribbling, looking toward the bus stop. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, was staring right at me.
If he’d been looking this way, he should’ve noticed me getting off the bus, but he didn’t say anything. Strange.
“What are you doing?”
“Practicing basketball.”
“Ah. Practicing basketball until dawn? You’re really dedicated.”
“I’m still not good enough…… I want to be as good as the seniors.”
I checked my phone. It was almost 1 a.m. It was impressive that he was practicing this late. I snatched the basketball from him and started dribbling it myself.
“How’s it going? Any trouble?”
“Hyung.”
“Hm?”
“Want to play one-on-one?”
“……I’m fine with it, but are you sure? You’re challenging me.”
I caught the ball and threw it at his chest. He caught it smoothly, a smirk playing on his lips. He flicked the ball with his fingers, tap, tap, then answered:
“Hyung, you know you’ll be embarrassed if you lose, right?”
I widened my eyes at him. What the hell? A rookie who just started playing was provoking me?
I smirked back and beckoned him with my finger.
Come at me.
The ball bounced hard. I wasn’t going to go easy on him, but as I dribbled, he suddenly sprinted toward the hoop. His long legs and powerful dash made it impossible to block his jump. He dunked the ball in an instant.
My jaw dropped. A dunk? Since when? Did Jin-wook teach him? That was something even I struggled with.
And when did he get so good at dribbling? I stared blankly at him until the ball hit the ground. I snapped back to reality and asked stupidly:
“You…… you’re pretty good?”
“Told you you’d be embarrassed if you lost.”
I stood there dumbfounded, then ran to pick up the ball. My pride as a starter was crumbling. I scowled. My voice turned sharp.
“That doesn’t count. You started before the game even began.”
“Cheap.”
“What’s cheap? You’re the one who cheated. Let’s do it again.”
I knew it was childish, but I hated losing. I couldn’t admit defeat. We faced each other and started dribbling slowly. Heon spread his arms, ready to block. I took a breath, dodged him, and dribbled forward.
Our shoulders collided. His long arms and legs were intimidating. I switched the ball to my other hand and jumped. If his arms and legs were a threat, I’d just shoot from here. My hand hooked up, and the ball flew—
He swatted it away effortlessly.
I stared at him in disbelief as he casually changed direction and dribbled. My pride crumbled. I bent down and charged at him seriously. I snatched the ball and jumped for a shot. It missed, bouncing off the rim. Heon grabbed the rebound and dunked it again.
The hoop shook violently. I panted, my breath ragged from the sudden exertion. I glared at him, grinding my teeth. Humiliation. A skill gap? It was ridiculous. I was pissed.
“Again.”
I spat out the words and picked up the ball.
For the next 20 minutes, we ran until the court was covered in dust. As I got used to it, I even made a few long-range shots. I usually performed better when I was fired up, but my opponent was still a beginner. We played three more rounds—two ended with his shots after physical struggles, and one with my three-pointer. After 20 minutes of battling Heon for a single shot, my entire body was drenched in sweat.
I lay on the dirt, covering my eyes with my wrist.
I’d only won one out of five rounds. A hollow laugh escaped me. I’d lost decisively. I swallowed my ragged breath, tasting the bitter truth. I felt tricked.
“What the hell…… are you?”
“……”
I glanced at Heon, who was lying beside me, catching his breath. I struggled to sit up. It was almost 2 a.m. It was absurd—two guys playing one-on-one at dawn. No, the absurdity wasn’t the time; it was the fact that I’d lost. He was surprisingly skilled at one-on-one. And he was good. Far from the beginner I’d seen before.
I stared at him, his hand resting on his leg, still lying down.
“Did you play basketball before?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“I told you, in high school.”
“No…… I mean, did you ever get formal training?”
“No formal training. I learned everything in the club.”
Monster. Genius.
All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. Maybe I was just worse than a beginner. I didn’t even consider my own skill level and just labeled him a monster. But honestly, improving enough to beat a starter in a month? That’s not normal. And he even dunked. Even with his height……
I frowned, slightly disgusted. Jin-wook might actually lose his starting position. I needed to step up my game.
I wiped my face with my shirt. The sweat from our impromptu midnight game was cooling, turning sticky. I sighed.
“Alright, enough. What are we doing at dawn? I was going to give you some advice since you beat me…… Ugh, embarrassing. I’m going in first. You keep practicing.”
Heon suddenly grabbed my right hand as I turned to leave the court. He looked at me like he wanted to say something, then spoke a beat too late:
“When are you buying me food next?”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
