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After bickering with the Black Swans' security guard with my usual idiotic mannerisms and gestures for a few minutes, I'm finally allowed inside of the gym. The court full of boys pay me no mind, much too enveloped in their practice to even send me a wave. Not that I'm expecting one. Either way, I don't intend on staying for long, and I make a sharp right down the opposite hallway towards Domus' office.

Pushing the door open, I'm immediately greeted with the captivating aroma of eucalyptus. When I cut to his desk, I smile when I spot the culprit.

"I see your incense burner came in." His back straightens from its hunched position over his keyboard at my voice. He spins in his office chair to face me, pushing his reading glasses back up his snub nose before wheeling over to proudly sit behind his desk.

"Best $30 I've ever spent!" We both stare in awe at the smoke billowing down the small mountain structure like a waterfall, pooling at the bottom and spilling out into a mystical fog. When I look back at Domus, I have to bite my lip to stop from smiling at the enormous man giggling as he dips his finger in the pool and swirls it to create a small tornado of smoke. "Don't you love Amazon?"

"Sure, who doesn't love a company that exploits its workers?" I quip and his lips form a pout, the gesture too adorable for me to crush his spirits. "But I like it, very Zen."

He snaps his fingers and points, "that's exactly what I was going for! I've been reading this book about feng shui and one of the steps is to remove negative symbolism from the room."

"Ah," I nod, planting myself on the leather seat across from him to get comfortable as I can already sense the longevity of the conversation, "so what used to be there?"

"The old team picture." His lips form a straight line.

Domus rarely allows his calm demeanor to waver, which is why when I catch a small frown playing on his lips I am immediately alarmed.

"I don't even remember seeing that picture. Was there something wrong with it?"

He motions his head toward the trash bin by his desk before going back to fiddling with his incense burner. When I grab the wooden frame deliberately placed face-down from the empty bin a few shards of glass shake off. As soon as I flip it to reveal the picture, my heart stops.

It is in fact the old team picture. Maybe a year and a half old. It was taken right after our first game on the road of qualifying for the last California Tournament. The boys are drenched in sweat. You can still see the determination in their eyes as they grin at the camera. Namjoon, Jin, Sebastian, and Ren stand in the back row, their arms draped over one another with rosy cheeks and hair plastered to their foreheads. Yoongi, Jungkook, Koji, and Abdul kneel in front of them, Jungkook holding two peace signs up while Koji pretends to kiss a disgusted Yoongi. Coach Ruth stands on the left side of them, arms crossed over her chest and feet spread apart like a drill sergeant. Domus stands next to her, a cute photogenic grin on his face while he does a thumbs up.

But it's when my eyes shift to the right that my heart actually stops.

Because it's me. I'm standing next to the boys with pin straight hair that only reaches the tops of my shoulders with thin, wispy bangs and a face full of makeup. I cringe at the fact that I'm wearing a frilly, blue romper but it subsides when I catch sight of the pair of arms wrapped around me. Axel stands behind me, chin placed on top of my head, sticking his tongue out teasingly at the camera while I laugh.

The beginning of the end.

Domus clears his throat and it's only then that I realize he is still even in the room. "Leave it in the bin, Laila."

I meet his frowning face and I mirror it. It's unlike Domus to show an emotion darker than his usual neutral one. However, it seems his frown deepens with every passing second that the photo is not back in the trash. Taking the hint, I toss it back. "I'm glad you're replacing it with something that brings you more peace."

He regards me with a quick smile before going back to playing with the smoke, only this time he does not seem as thrilled. "That team used to bring me peace. We were a family."

A pang of guilt engulfs me as I sink back into the chair. I was debating on sharing the messages I received the other night with Domus for some sort of advice but it does not seem right to bring up the past just as he is disposing his last memories of it.

"But I can't help but notice," he continues, "that things have been different. The energy in this gym is different."

"The feng shui book taught you that, too?" He cracks a genuine smile and I feel a hundred pounds lighter.

"No," he chuckles.

"Well, we do share a gym with those snotty Black Swans," I throw back a thumb towards the door, "what the hell are they even doing here on a Sunday? Doesn't that coach ever let them rest?"

"Too much of anything is unhealthy, some coaches understand that." He drums his fingers mindlessly against the wood, "and then there are those who believe that if they push their team hard enough...they will be perfect."

The way his voice lowers at the last words makes me arch a brow. "And what do you think?"

He hums, the lines in his face crinkling to indicate him deep in thought. There's a beat before he speaks, his lips parting and closing in hesitation. "I just think Jihun's coaching style is...different. That's all."

I nod. Domus does not have a bad bone in his entire body. I've never heard him speak ill about anyone and I don't expect him to start now.

"But they're not the cause of the imbalance of energy here, I'll tell you that. It's intensified because of them but it's been around for a while." He meets my eyes with expectant ones and I blink back.

"So what do you think is the cause?"

His lips curl but the smile that forms isn't a happy one. It reeks of pity. "You tell me."

Could Domus have received the same messages? It would explain the inspiration behind his sudden intolerance for our old team picture. Axel is as much as a threat to him as he is to me.

I try to meet his eyes but he's back to creating tornadoes in the smoke. If Axel sent anything to Domus, it would be taken care of by now. And since I haven't received another message since that night, plus Domus' vagueness, maybe it has been taken care of. The thought eases my mind at least for the time being.

"What are you doing here on a Sunday?" He casually asks, his tone the complete opposite from his earlier, mysterious one.

"Oh, right. The paperwork for the Dome. Thought I could pick it up today that way I could drop it off before practice tomorrow."

He nods, wheeling back to draw out a filing cabinet and beginning to sift through it.

The sound of a knock on the door causes both of us to whirl our heads around. We're met with the usual scowling face of the Black Swans' coach impatiently leaning against the door frame.

"Domus," he booms, his voice echoing throughout the small office, "we're done for the day. Thank you for opening for us."

Domus sends him a friendly smile before lifting a hand to wave. "You're welcome, Jihun. Have a good one."

Coach Jihun nods, glancing down at me for a moment. His scowl deepens as his eyes bore into mine, muttering something in Korean before finally making his exit.

When we no longer hear his footsteps in the hall, I dramatically shudder. "That guy gives me the creeps."

Domus chuckles before exclaiming in satisfaction at his find. He hands me the packet with a smirk. "He's not so bad. Just doesn't seem like a people person."

I stand to prepare for my own exit with Domus is close pursuit twirling the gym keys around his finger.

"If he were my coach-"

"You would do exactly what he instructed you to do," he cuts in, "because that's what players are supposed to do, listen."

I pout at his not so subtle jabs. We reach the now empty court. The sight of shoe prints and basketballs scattered around makes me sigh in dismay. Unsurprisingly, Domus does not even bat an eye at the mess, instead he hums a jolly tune as he strides over to one of the balls and picks it up.

He dribbles for a bit before flicking his wrist, sending the ball in a perfect spiral into the net.

"And the crowd goes wild!" He yells, cupping his mouth to pretend to make the noises of a cheering audience. I giggle, setting the packet on the floor before jogging over to where the ball rolled off to and dribbling it back towards him.

"So you still have some moves, old man?"

He scoffs playfully. "Old man? Pass me the ball." I throw it at him and he catches it with an oof. He flicks his wrist again, making another basket. "How many old men can do that?"

I catch his rebound, shrugging as I slowly dribble back towards him. "That's light work."

Domus arches a brow, waving his finger to scold me. "It's nice to know your rebelliousness is still there," he steps closer to me, "you would think after leading to the end of basketball, you'd drop the 'tude."

I roll my eyes, "I quit by choice, Domus."

"Choice seems to go by a different name in your book, aha!" He easily smacks the ball out of my hands, snickering like a child and dribbles it to the basket where he makes a perfect layup.

Again, I chase after the ball. It could be the lack of grip on the court or the fact that I'm wearing very thin flip-flops, but I slip a bit on my way. Noticing, Domus points, "since I'm old," he air quotes, "and you're wearing those, would you agree that we're at the same playing level?"

I snort, "definitely not-"

"How about a bet? You play a game of 1v1 with me and loser has to clean up the gym today."

I laugh, "I clean the gym anyways-"

"You're gonna let an old man beat you," he wiggles his brow and I drop my defense.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't eager to play against Domus. There's an adrenaline that comes with competing that is unmatched to any other feeling. Winning is a dangerous high that all players chase. But some get addicted along the way and it ruins them.

I click my tongue in annoyance, "I don't wanna play for long, Domus. First one to 5 points wins." Domus grins and I kick off my sandals, grimacing as my bare feet touch the dirty floor.

I bend my knees to get into a defensive stance, a smile making its way onto my lips at the nostalgia of the position. Domus notices, as always, getting into position as well as he begins to dribble. "You know," he crosses it in between his legs, "it's a shame you threw away ball for good. Watching your games inspired me to go out and try to get funding for an all girls team."

"Huh?"

Taking advantage of me being distracted, again, he snakes around me and allows the ball to bank off of the backboard into the basket.

2-0

I roll my eyes, snatching the ball from his hands and driving it toward the three-point line. With the muscle memory of shooting still trying to come through, I recoil my arm and launch the ball into the air. We both watch as it hits the rim, Domus quick to chase after to catch the rebound.

He dribbles out before tutting, "you were never good at jump shots. Didn't I always tell you to play to your strengths?"

Mimicking exactly where I attempted my shot, he lets the ball effortlessly glide out of his calloused hands and fall into the net with a swoosh. When I turn back to face him my shoulders sag as he is already on his way out the door.

"Don't forget to lock up," is the last thing I hear before the door slams shut.

I sigh but it ends up turning into a laugh. Even if Domus won, he'd find a way to make sure I stayed and cleaned the gym. He hates cleaning, clearly evident by the pig sty that is our supply closet. I smirk at the thought of how quickly he'll abandon the feng shui book once it starts demanding he start organizing.

There's a slight skip in my step when I slide back into my flip flops, them clacking against the floor as I make my way towards the locker room. Did I really enjoy playing that much? It was a passion.

But now this is my passion. "Mopping a prissy team's mess," I finish aloud. I seemed to have been entirely too lost in thought to even notice one of the showers running which immediately halts at my voice.

Dismissing the steam in the room as aftermaths of the Black Swans rinsing off, I glance down at my feet and wince. They're so dirty, I hope I haven't caught anything. Scurrying towards the showers with my head still casted downwards at the monstrosity that is my feet, I fail to notice the bare chest of Kim Taehyung blocking the entrance.

At least until I crash right into him.

I yelp out of fright, my head bobbling back as I go to grab my aching nose. "What the hell!"

"What the hell you, watch where you're going," he snaps, fastening the towel around his waist before rubbing his torso.

"I thought no one was here." I scan him from head to toe, swallowing thickly at the view.

Still wet from his shower, small water droplets drip from his damp red hair, causing some tendrils to stick to his forehead. His honey skin glistens even under our cheap fluorescent lights, making him look just the more ethereal. It's then that I notice his eyes, one has a mono-lid while the other is double-lidded.

Somehow he still looks perfect.

Purely aesthetically speaking, of course.

The soreness of my nose intensifies, serving as a graceful reminder as to why I'm here. "Your team left, you can't blame me for believing the place was empty!" I keep my eyes sternly on his face, ignoring every sinful voice telling me to allow my gaze to lower towards what I can only assume is an equally perfect torso.

"Wanted to stay," he casually shrugs, strolling past me to walk towards an open locker I conveniently did not notice either. "Wasn't in the mood to go back to the hotel and do nothing for the rest of the day."

"A hotel?"

He nods, drying the top of his head with a smaller towel. With both of his hands occupied, I panic at the lack of restraint holding up the one wrapped around his waist and finally allow my eyes to drift downwards. Just as I thought, perfect ripples of six abs defined enough to drool over. His towel is safely secured, drooping slightly to expose his structured V-line.

I just hope this cocky son of a bitch didn't catch me staring because-

"The Hyatt, just off the 110. Room 417."

I narrow my eyes, "I'm sorry?"

"Just thought you'd like to know where it was," he smirks. "Make sure to tell our security TaeTae sent you, and then you can see all of this," he motions toward himself, "all night."

I scoff before shaking my head. "I'm good, I think you lust over yourself enough for the both of us."

"Your loss, baby." He winks.

I gag before planting myself on the bench opposite of him and beginning to roll up my pants.

"Why are you here," he glances at me, raising his brows in surprise at my action.

"Came to pick up some paperwork, and clean up your mess."

"Mess?" He sends me a look of genuine confusion, "clean up? Don't you have people to do that?"

I spring up, placing my hands on my hips and smiling. "I'm people."

He laughs and for a moment I wonder if it's along with me, but the evil sound says otherwise. "Wow, you really do need this tournament." His eyes glaze over me until they land on my feet and he points, "you can't even buy shoes."

"I have shoes, idiot." His smile drops and mine grows, "this is how dirty you guys left the court."

I lift my foot to display the filth and he grimaces, immediately looking away in horror. "Why were you walking barefooted on the court?"

"I lost a game," I grumble, waddling towards the slippery tiled floor to rinse them off.

"A game of what?" He asks, interest lacing his tone as he props himself up with his elbows on the small white wall separating the showers from the locker room.

I wince when ice cold water spurts from the faucet and collides with my skin. Looking back at him with pleading eyes, I swear I see his own soften for a millisecond before reverting back to their mischievous state. "Nunya."

"Nunya?" He scoffs as I go on to scrub my feet, "what's nunya?"

"Nunya business." I grin, it graduating to a cackle when I see him huff in frustration and disappear to his locker.

I hear him mutter a string of Korean phrases under his breath after I turn off the faucet. I smile victoriously until I catch the last one.

"Neo jinjja jjangnanda."

"Hey!" He pokes his head out as I pad towards his locker, my still wet feet making splat noises as I walk. "You can't say stuff about me in Korean just because I don't understand! I have Korean friends who translate everything you say, you know?"

Now fully dressed in black sweatpants and a white T-shirt, he nods while rolling his eyes.

"And if anything YOU'RE THE ANNOYING ONE!" I stomp, coincidentally slipping back into my flip flops in the process.

His forehead creases, his eyes averting mine as if he's lost in thought. I suddenly wonder if I went to far and actually hurt his feelings until he returns to Earth and smiles. "You play basketball, don't you?"

"That's what you were thinking about?" I exasperate.

"Yeah, I kind of tuned you out for a while-"

I walk away before he can finish, mostly because I'm sure if he stays this close to me I'll hurt him. Entering the closet, I groan when I hear him jog up to me.

I fill a water bottle, my eyes trained on a hesitant Taehyung mentally debating on whether to set foot in the small room. "So...," he pretends to retch, "so, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Play."

"Play whattt," I sing and Taehyung groans.

He inhales sharply, as if I'm dancing on his last nerve. "Do you play basketball?"

"What's it to you?" I shrug, picking up the mop and shoving past him to make my way toward the gym.

"Play me!"

"Pass," I call back, swiveling my head momentarily to catch him jogging towards me again.

"Aw, come on." He frowns as we walk into the gym, "today was a hard practice, I could really use a win."

I scoff, "okay now it's a pass to the power of 100. No way you're using me to feed your starving ego."

"Or you could prove me wronggg," he attempts to persuade, "don't you want to see my losing face?"

Oh he's good. There's nothing that would make me happier in the moment than squashing Taehyung's obnoxious pride.

"Plus you still owe me a jacket," he adds matter-of-factly.

"Shit!" I facepalm. I always forget that stupid jacket. "In my defense, I didn't think I would even see you today to return it."

"Play hard and you won't have to return it," he smirks, setting down his gym bag next to the packet I left and grabbing a nearby ball. "If you win, you can keep my jacket."

"Wow, in that case..." I tap my chin, watching the glint in his eyes sharpen, "still pass."

He deflates, slipping on the dusty court a bit and then looking back at me beginning to spray water in the corner of the court.

"Then how about this, you win and I clean the court."

That's enough to stop me in my tracks and direct my attention towards him. "And if you win?"

He shrugs, circling around me like a shark as his eyes bore into mine. "Nothing much, just show me your team's stats."

I squeeze the bottle allowing it to spray his chest. "Absolutely not."

"Ah, you...," he whimpers at the soaking fabric clinging onto his skin. "Fine, then you can at least drive me back to the hotel. Otherwise I have to take a taxi or um...the Uber."

"That's it?" I narrow my eyes, lifting the bottle again to threaten him with another squeeze.

He puts up his hands in defense, "yes, yes, yes, that's it! I can trick you into telling me more about your team another time."

At that I squeeze the water into his face, drenching his recently dried red tresses again.

He blinks back at me, fuming and completely unamused. His nostrils flare and he purses his lips like he's on the brink of exploding.

However, I smile.

"Deal." I stick out my hand for him.

Exhaling unsteadily, he nods, slowly enveloping my hand in his large one and shaking it.

"Deal."

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