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My mouth goes dry as I stand outside the entrance of the gigantic dome shaped building, taking in its intimidating ambience while people weave around me to get inside. It's daunting to say the least but I push the thought to the back of my mind and step through the sliding glass doors.

Inside, the sportsplex is essentially one giant court split into 12 smaller ones to host 12 games at a time.

And in 6 short weeks, this is where we'll be playing.

I quickly get in line, anxiously rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet as I survey the other managers waiting to receive the paperwork we were all instructed to come pick up. I can't help but notice everyone adorned in their team's gear from head to toe, subtly trying to show off to everyone around.

Suddenly I feel inappropriately dressed as I just sport a red tank top and some loose fitted jeans. I should've worn at least something to represent the Stallions because I stick out like a sore thumb.

"Hello, are you lost?" My brow furrows in confusion when I reach the plastic table occupied by an older man with a snowy beard.

"Uh, no. I'm here to collect the paperwork for the tournament."

His white brows mirror mine. "How old are you?"

What the fuck.

"Does it matter?"

"Of course not, it's just against tournament policy to have managers under 18."

"I'm 20."

He grins, showcasing his rows of yellow teeth. "Ah, then I guess we have no problem. What team?"

"Silver Stallions from Club Bang."

He sifts through his files before sliding one across the table towards me. "Bring these back filled out and signed in exactly one week, and don't forget to go over all of the rules. Look forward to seeing you again."

"Right, thanks." I swipe the packet and swiftly exit the building.

As soon as I step outside I'm greeted by the Los Angeles rays mercilessly beating down on my tan skin, gracefully reminding me why I decided to wear what I did. As I'm heading towards the parking lot, I spot a black Mercedes van obnoxiously parked on the red-painted curb.

Knowing it must belong to one of the snobby and entitled teams inside, I send the vehicle a glare in hopes that someone behind the tinted windows will receive it and get the hint.

Just as I'm strolling past, I hear the window roll down.

"Hey!"

Oh shit.

I hesitantly crane my neck only to see a large hand beckoning me back. I make my retreat and prepare for my scolding until I peer inside.

And I'm met with the handsome face of Kim Taehyung.

"Y-Yeah?"

I hear stifled chuckles behind him and I force my eyes to rip away from his deep ones to notice the rest of their players are also inside. Taehyung just blinks at me and I suddenly facepalm.

"Right, you don't speak English. Um." I shrug my shoulders, "what's," I point at the sky, "up."

Taehyung follows my finger and stares up before his eyes cut back to bore into mine again. His thick brows lower, a small frown of confusion playing on his lips and I begin to feel awkward and extremely guilty for not remembering a single word in Korean despite the boys always trying to teach me.

"We all speak English." An accented voice rings out behind him and I narrow my eyes. The man I recognize as Hoseok comes into view and he tilts his head, "he's teasing you."

"What?" I look back at Taehyung and his frown is now replaced with a smirk.

He mimics my shrug and points at the sky. "WhAt'S uP?"

My brow knits in annoyance. "I only did that because I thought you'd understand."

"Why would you think I don't know English?" He strokes his chin, casually eyeing me up and down.

"Because you're from Korea."

"Ah, so you know who we are?"

My eyes widen and his smirk only stretches at my revealed knowledge.

"I have to go."

Hugging the packet to my chest, I rush back down the sidewalk but halt when I hear the sound of a car door slamming shut and footsteps jogging towards me.

"You're a bad liar." He smiles, a glint of mischief in his eyes. His flaming hair matches his red trackpants as it sits under a cap turned backwards while he wears a shirt displaying Black Swans in black font.

"Some would beg to disagree. It isn't such a bad quality to have, though." I look up at his amused expression nodding in agreement.

"Very true. You're the girl from the game, aren't you?" A light accent is still wrapped around his words yet I can't help but be taken aback by how well he speaks.

"What game?"

"The one a few nights ago. You tried to pretend you weren't staring at me and asked a man to blow on your eye. You were with that team, umm...the Sliver...

Damn, he remembers that much? A wave of embarrassment washes over me and I shake my head. "Silver Stallions. And no, you must have me mistaken with someone else."

Clearly not convinced, he chuckles. "Hmm, I guess I must."

A beat of awkward silence passes and I scrunch my nose. "Um... so did you need something from me?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I just wanted to talk to an American to practice. I want my English to be perfect."

"Sounds perfect enough to me. You speak it better than most of the people I've met."

He laughs, a deep melodious sound that makes my heart tingle. "What's your name?"

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I have a feeling we'll be seeing much more of each other, so I might as well know."

"What if I don't want to tell you?"

Narrowing his eyes, I hold my breath as he seems to scan every inch of my face. "Why wouldn't you? You already know mine."

I dramatically scoff. "Why would you think that?"

"You know I play on the Black Swans. And I'm kind of hard not to miss. And you're a manager, you must have been in charge of research."

I continue to blink at him with a blank stare in an effort to conceal the information I know and he kisses his teeth in defeat. "Fine, we'll pretend you don't know my name." He sticks out his hand, "I'm Kim Taehyung, and you are?"

I sigh and allow his large hand to envelop mine for a shake, "Laila."

"Beautiful name, I'd love to hear the entire thing."

I yank my hand back and shake my head before speeding up. "I think that's all you really need."

"You're acting very coldly towards me, Laila."

I let out a dry chuckle as I draw out my car keys from my back pocket, unknowingly being ogled by Taehyung in the process. "I don't intend to be friends with any of the competing teams in the tournament, especially one who bought their place."

His friendly facade finally falters and his lips form a straight line. He mutters something in Korean but I can't understand.

I crack open my door and plant myself in the driver's seat, watching him stuff his hands into his pockets with a blank expression as if contemplating what to say next. Just as I'm starting the car, he perks up, the same stupid smirk plastered back on his face.

"I hope you'll remember me, Laila."

And then I pull out, glancing at him in my rear view mirror just to catch him staring as I drive away.

Once I'm back at the gym, a little late due to traffic, everyone is lounging on the court patiently waiting for my return.

"Hi, sorry the 405 was horrible today."

"No worries," Domus smiles from his seated position before turning to Coach Ruth, "run some of those new plays with them while I handle this."

Ruth nods before blowing her whistle. "Alright ladies, get your asses up and on that court."

I hand over the packet to Domus who wastes no time in beginning to fill it out.

I wonder if I should tell him about my brief encounter with a Black Swan, surely he'd read into it more than I could and provide some sort of insight. But I wave the thought out of my head when I remember that the harmless conversation is nothing worth reading into.

"Laila!" Coach Ruth hooks a finger and I walk towards her. Her scrutinizing eyes never leaving the court as she hands me a list. "We did weigh-ins before you came, I recorded them for you."

"Cool, I'll go write them down."

Domus insists that we do weekly weigh-ins to ensure the boys are taking care of themselves properly and gaining enough calories to support the amount they lose during their vigorous practices. I flip to the chart where I've recorded their previous weights and begin to input this week's. There are no discrepancies too alarming, most of the boys being only a pound or two lighter or heavier than the last check-in until I reach Jin.

And my eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

He's 11 pounds lighter.

I spot him on the court and my chest tightens. His cheekbones are popping out much more than before as well as his collarbone under his muscle shirt.

This would be unhealthy for anyone but especially for someone who trains as much as he does.

Could he have stopped eating?

Or maybe he's training even harder?

Either way, it's too worrying to overlook and as soon as practice is over I catch him just before he heads into the locker room.

"Jinnie, hang on one minute." I jog over to him and he eyes me curiously.

"Why are you 11 pounds lighter than last week?"

His expression darkens and he averts his eyes to the floor. "How is that even possible without literally starving yourself everyday this week? You know how dangerous that is?"

He bites the inside of his cheek, eyes now fixed on his shoes. "You look like a ghost. What's happening?"

"I-," he starts, his plump lips that were once a vibrant pink now a muted nude part before he swipes his tongue across them, "I can't eat."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"I still feel guilty."

"Guilty about what?"

He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "The game. We were so close to losing, and...and it was all my fault." His broad shoulders sink.

"But Jin," I give his toned arms a squeeze to direct his attention to me, "we didn't. We won. You know why?" I point at the room where there's an eruption of howls and whoops, "because they have your back. We have your back. And we always will. If anything it's my fault. I'm in charge of stats and I shouldn't have let you go out there knowing your turnover rate is so high."

"You can't always take the blame, Laila."

"This time I can. Have you been practicing more?"

He nods. "Domus gave me a bunch of drills to work on my control and that's all I've been doing before practice this week."

I narrow my eyes. "By yourself? How's that gonna help if there's no one there to pressure you?"

I take a hint to adjust my tone when I see his eyes softening.

"Sorry, I just care about you, Jin. You can't compete in this tournament if you're not feeling your best, and that starts with your diet. You need to eat. Why don't we go out-"

"No. I won't feel better until my dribbling skills are good enough for the tournament," he says sternly.

I sigh. "Can you at least practice here then? And maybe after we can go get you something to eat?"

He regards my proposal for a beat before hesitantly nodding and I smile.

"You'll need someone to try and steal the ball from you."

As if on cue, Jungkook and Koji dance out of the locker room to a rap song bumping on Koji's speaker.

"Yoongi is u-u-u-u-u-ugly," Koji raps to the tune while Jungkook lays a hand on his ear as the other pretends to be spinning an imaginary turntable like a DJ.

Yoongi storms out, shoving both of the giggling boys in the process. "I hate you all."

Koji juts out his bottom lip. "Yoongi, no. I-I'm sorry please don't cry," he grabs the older's hand, "I don't think Jungkook's shoulder can support your big head again."

Yoongi throws a punch that collides with Koji's ribs, causing him to wheeze. "I was just happy, fucker."

Namjoon steps out, his gym bag slung over his shoulder as he studies the scene. Koji breathes heavily, steadying himself with one hand on the wall, his body hunched over while Yoongi sends a death glare to Jungkook who subtly tries to hide behind a laughing Jin and I.

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Can we get through one practice without someone hurting Koji?"

"No," Yoongi grumbles, finally turning to make his exit, "I gotta go."

"Why are you in such a rush?" Namjoon asks.

"Got a date." Yoongi pretends to cup breasts with his hands, leaving a large amount of distance between them and his chest before winking at us.

I scrunch my nose. "You're a pig."

He tilts his now mint head back and laughs. "You love me!"

"Is the date really important to you?" I call out just as he's pushing on the door handle.

He groans. "Haven't had sex in like a month, so YES."

"Try 19 years," Jungkook frowns and Namjoon awkwardly pats his back out of pity.

Koji limps over toward us and cackles. "Don't worry Jungkookie, someone will deflower you someday."

Jungkook grimaces before swatting Namjoon's hand away. "Don't say it like that. At least I'm a virgin by choice. You can't have sex because you have a micrope-"

Koji snaps. "I DO NOT HAVE A MICROPENIS! I WILL LITERALLY WHIP MY DICK OUT RIGHT NOW TO SHOW YOU ALL-"

"No!" We collectively yell, shielding our eyes.

"I was just wondering if a couple of you would be willing to stay a little longer to help Jin out with his dribbling."

"I'll stay!" Jungkook enthusiastically steps forward.

"Me too, I don't want to go home, yet."

I arch a brow at Koji's sudden morose tone but he quickly conceals it with a smile.

"I guess I'll stay to make the teams even," Namjoon adds.

"Great!" I side-eye Yoongi still standing at the door with his back to us. "Yooooongi."

"I don't wanna."

"Ah we don't need him," Koji waves a hand before cupping his mouth, "WE CAN TEACH YOU MORE ABOUT BALL CONTROL THAN HE CAN ANYWAYS."

The muscles in Yoongi's back tense as his pride is wounded and he marches straight into the gym.

It's no surprise that the others don't stay, the four other players rushing past us before we even get the chance to ask.

Fuck them, though.

We gather in the gym and we all look curiously to Jungkook who effortlessly dribbles that ball behind his back, his eyes trained on us. Then, without warning, he chucks it at Jin who catches it with one hand.

"Good reflexes." Jungkook smiles cheerfully, trying to reassure him.

"What are you struggling with?" Yoongi grabs a ball from the rack and starts spinning it on his finger.

Jin drops his head as he recounts the memory, "I-I choked against the Vikings. When Coach didn't put me in first like he usually does it got to me. I got so nervous...I almost let us lose the game that could change our entire lives."

Namjoon and I exchange a look as Jin wears a pained expression.

"I just want to get better."

Namjoon strides over and slaps his back. "We'll help you, hyung."

"Yeah, you just need a boost of confidence! And that starts with this," Jungkook walks over to the wall and squats.

Jin reluctantly follows, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

Placing one hand on the wall, Jungkook stares straight ahead before rapidly bouncing the ball with the other. "This is dribbling 101. You gotta trust the ball will always hit the middle of your palm without you looking."

Namjoon, Jin, and I stare in astonishment as the ball consistently hits Jungkook's hand in the same place despite the supersonic pace. We hear another collision of leather with the court and turn to be met with Yoongi and Koji easily doing the same exercise, Yoongi going as far as bouncing two with either hand.

"Try it, hyung!" Jungkook hands him the ball and Jin gulps before clumsily squatting in the same position and slowing bouncing the ball with his right hand. "Remember, your other hand should be flat against the wall." Jin slowly nods and obeys. His head instinctively dips to look but Jungkook scolds him. "No looking, trust yourself."

"Aish, lay off kid it's my first time." He shakes his head but Jungkook turns to us with a bunny smile and sends us two thumbs up.

Namjoon and I watch the four practice, Namjoon insisting he is confident enough with his dribbling while the other two just want to show off to each other.

"Namjoon?"

He hums in response, an amused smile on his face as he watches Yoongi and Koji slap each other with their free hands while still maintaining a steady pace dribbling their own balls.

"Whats that thing your mom says to me every time I see her at a game?"

"Annyeonghaseyo?"

"Yeah, that! What does that mean?"

"Hello," he laughs, ruffling my hair. I dig through my memory of my conversation with Taehyung but the word doesn't seem to ring a bell. Noticing, he tilts his head. "You talked to a Korean person?"

"Yeah, he said something but I don't remember what. Nu-nu chinja changnada?"

Namjoon looks at me like I just brought shame to his entire culture and shakes his head. "I can't believe you've known us for this long and you still sound like that."

"Ugh never mind, I don't care," I huff and he pinches my cheek.

"Aww, okay I'll help. Say it again."

I try to repeat the butchered Korean and Namjoon begins spitting phrases back at me, testing whether any sound like what Taehyung said. It isn't until he says the last one that a lightbulb goes off inside of my head.

"Wait, say that one again!"

"Neo jinjja jjangnanda?"

"Yes, that's it! What does it mean?"

Namjoon purses his lips, but I can see the corners of his mouth twitch upwards like he's biting back a smile. "I-It means, 'you're really annoying."

My hopeful smile drops and Namjoon slings an arm over my sinking shoulders. "I don't know who you pissed off but I think you're better off staying away from them."

Fucking Kim Taehyung.

After a few more drills and even a light scrimmage consisting of the point guards versus the bigs, the old smile and infectious windshield wiper laugh of Jin returns and echoes proudly throughout the gym. And just like he agreed to, we all go out to the only place open at midnight to celebrate his regained confidence at a diner nearby. We mindlessly chat, me sandwiched in one side of the booth by Namjoon and Jin, while the other three occupy the one across from us.

"Here's to Jin becoming a dribbling God after two hours!" Koji raises his obnoxiously large chocolate milkshake to which we all follow and clink to cheers.

"Can't believe you picked up the cross dribble so fast," Yoongi says through a bite of his burger, "Even I couldn't master that until my second year."

"Probably cus he has longer legs than you, dwarf," Koji snorts and Yoongi groans.

"I'm too tired to come up with a comeback."

"Laila, didn't you used to play before you found the club?" Jungkook looks up at me, his cheeks stuffed with french fries and I smile fondly.

"A little, I used to be a small forward," I bat my lashes before sending Koji a wink and he chokes on his milkshake.

"Don't look at me like that, baby, I catch feelings way too fast." He exhales shakily and I laugh at his theatrics.

"Why didn't you play with us?" Jin nudges me and I shake my head.

"I'm not as good as you guys, you'd kill me. Plus, managing is much more fun."

"Why's that?"

"Cus it's all of the excitement without the sweat, and I like keeping track of what you all do and running errands for the team. It makes me feel important." I smile and Jin and Namjoon both aww before trapping me in a half-sweaty hug.

"Is everything okay, though?" Jungkook narrows his eyes in concern before taking a sip of his strawberry milkshake. "I know it's been a year already but-"

"I'm fine, Kookie. I'm glad you guys are always asking but for real, that's all in the past. I'm just happy you guys believed me and did what you could."

That seems to alarm Yoongi as his brows knit. "They still don't believe you? Is that what they were talking to you about the other day I walked in on you in the locker room?"

I shake my head. I know how protective the boys are over me. Hell, for the first couple of months after the incident they didn't dare let me go anywhere alone and as much as I wanted to express my unsettling fears and discomfort over the others on the team, I couldn't tear the club apart more than I already have.

"No, I was just a little off that day. I still couldn't believe you guys made it."

Namjoon smiles proudly, showcasing his dimples. "It's unreal. Domus is finally getting what he deserves."

"WE'RE finally getting what we deserve, brotha!" Koji stands and announces to the scattered patrons around, "that's right SILVER STALLIONS BOUTA TAKE HOME THE TROPHY AND $500K FOR CLUB BANG!"

"Sit down, you're being an ass." Yoongi yanks Koji down by his hoodie, causing him to land back on the cushioned booth with a thud.

"What do you think will happen if we win?" Jungkook asks, bouncing with eagerness.

"When you guys win, companies will be begging for sponsorship deals to have you repping them while you smoke teams on the court. Heck, you'll probably even be asked to do a few commercials." I smile when I catch stars swirling in everyone's pupils at the thought of their victory, my heart swelling at the sight.

Yoongi is the first to snap out of the daydream and tries to scoff. "Y-Yeah right, like that's gonna happen."

"Shut up, hyung," Jungkook furrows his brow, "it will happen."

They continue to tease each other and laugh. I watch their exchanges in adoration, a small pang of guilt hitting me when I remember what I put them through a year ago. The horrible situation I inadvertently dragged them all into that created a disturbing stigma that still surrounds Club Bang. And for them to still accept me, still love me like I never wronged them, is a second chance that I will never take for granted.

I will never take this family for granted.

I raise my glass of lemonade to my lips and casually gaze out the window next to our table, my brows knitting when I catch a glimpse of red rushing by. I lean in closer to peer through the glass when suddenly the bell at the front entrance chimes.

"Table for 5?" We hear a deep voice politely ask the host.

"Whoa, get a load of these guys?" Koji points and everyone swivels around to peer at the newcomers.

"Why are they all wearing the same thing?" Yoongi snorts, creating little bubbles in his Coke.

"I think they look cool," Jungkook smiles, admiring the group I have yet to see.

Their comments manage to peak my interest enough to rotate my neck to glance at the people they're gawking at and when I do I freeze.

Because I'm met with the familiar group of men I spent an entire night researching every detail about.

The familiar group of men I accidentally mad-dogged at the sportsplex earlier today.

And one particularly familiar redhead that I can't seem to escape.

Kim Taehyung.

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