Greco

The sharp whistle cut through the air, signaling the start of the race. Without hesitation, we all dove into the pool, the cool water enveloping us as our bodies sliced through it. My legs kicked furiously, and I swung my arms with precision, pushing myself to the limit.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Fuse. He was closing the gap between us. I gritted my teeth and increased my pace, my strokes becoming faster, more powerful.

When I reached the pool's edge, I executed a tumble turn, twisting underwater with practiced ease. Glancing behind me as I propelled myself forward, I smirked. I was ahead now.

Fuse noticed too. His strokes quickened as he tried to catch up, determination evident in every movement. But suddenly, he stopped, his face contorting in pain as he clutched his shoulder.

I pushed on, finishing the lap and pulling myself out of the pool. The others followed shortly after—Carter, then the rest of the team. My breathing was heavy, but I couldn't help but glance back at Fuse.

As I pulled myself out of the water, the sound of Coach's sharp voice echoed through the pool area. My breathing was still heavy, but my attention was immediately drawn to Fuse, who was standing at the pool's edge, his hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"Fuse! What the hell was that?" Coach barked, pacing in front of him. His clipboard was clenched in one hand, and his other gestured wildly, frustration pouring out with every word. "You slowed down halfway through the lap! What's going on with you?"

Fuse didn't respond right away. He was hunched slightly, his face pale and his jaw clenched in pain. His hand remained on his shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle as if trying to soothe the sharp ache he clearly felt.

"I'm talking to you, Fuse!" Coach snapped again, stepping closer. "You're supposed to be the captain of this team, but lately, you've been slipping. If there's a problem, you need to speak up!"

Fuse finally lifted his head, his expression a mixture of anger and frustration. But instead of answering, he simply shook his head, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Don't give me that attitude," Coach continued, his voice rising. "This is the third time this week you've underperformed during practice. If there's something wrong, you need to tell me now, or you're going to be benched for the season. Do you understand me?"

The word "benched" made Fuse's shoulders stiffen, and for a brief moment, his defiance seemed to falter. But just as quickly, his usual stoicism returned.

"There's nothing wrong," he muttered, his voice low but steady.

"Nothing wrong? You're clutching your shoulder like it's about to fall off!" Coach exclaimed, exasperated. He took a step back and let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't keep pushing yourself like this, Fuse. It's not just about you—it's about the team. If you're injured, you need to let us know. You're not invincible."

The team around me had fallen silent, everyone watching the confrontation with uneasy expressions. Fuse stood there, unmoving, his gaze fixed on the tiles of the pool deck.

I knew exactly why he wasn't saying anything. I knew about his injury—knew that any admission of weakness could jeopardize his position, his future, and everything he'd worked for. President Lucas had made it clear to me that this was Fuse's personal battle, one he was determined to fight alone.

But watching him now, struggling to maintain his composure as pain radiated through his body, I felt a pang of guilt. I knew that if I hadn't overtaken him in the water, maybe Coach wouldn't be grilling him like this.

"Fuse," Coach said, his tone softer now, though still firm. "I can't help you if you won't help yourself. Whatever this is, it's going to catch up to you eventually. Don't wait until it's too late."

Fuse didn't respond. He simply nodded curtly before turning and walking away, his movements stiff and deliberate.

Coach sighed again, shaking his head before turning to address the rest of us. "The rest of you, good work today. Keep it up." His eyes lingered on me for a moment, and he gave a nod of approval. "Greco, great job out there."

"Nice one, bro!" my teammates chimed in, their cheers ringing around me.

Carter slung an arm over my shoulders, grinning. "Man, you're a beast in the water!"

I managed a small smile and nodded back, but my thoughts were elsewhere. My gaze followed Fuse as he walked toward the locker rooms, his shoulders tense and his steps heavy.

I couldn't help but feel like I'd stolen something from him today—his pride, his position, maybe even his sense of control. And for what? To prove that I could take his place when the inevitable happened?

The victory that should've felt sweet left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I averted my gaze, guilt prickling at me. I remembered the conversation I had with President Lucas before joining Vera University's swimming team. He had confided in me that Fuse's shoulder was a ticking time bomb. The injury he'd been nursing for years could give out at any moment. That was why they needed me—someone who could take his place when he could no longer compete.

Aside from Fuse, President Lucas, and me, no one else knew about his condition.

***

When the bus dropped me off, I ran into Nacthan on the street.

"Hey!" I called out, slinging an arm around him. "Where are you off to at this hour?" It was late, and Nacthan wasn't the type to wander around at night.

He frowned, brushing my arm off. "I'm in a hurry, Greco. Let's talk some other time," he said absentmindedly, clearly preoccupied.

I watched him walk away, shaking my head in amusement. He'd been so busy these past few weeks that we barely saw each other anymore.

Maybe he's sneaking off to meet someone. Is he dating? The thought made me chuckle.

Back at home, the comforting aroma of cooking filled the air. Lola Flor was at the sink, washing dishes.

"You're in a good mood, apo," she said with a warm smile, glancing over her shoulder.

"Let me do that, Lola. You should rest," I offered, moving to take over the task.

She raised an eyebrow at me, laughing softly. "Do you have a girlfriend, Greco? You're smiling like a fool."

Her question made me laugh. "Actually, Lola, there's someone I've liked for a long time. Since I was a kid, even."

My mind wandered to NM, the girl I'd been drawn to ever since I first saw her when we moved here. I was nine years old then, and even now, my feelings hadn't wavered.

"Lucky girl, whoever she is," Lola said with a twinkle in her eye. "She must be special if you still like her after all this time."

I smiled but didn't say more. Instead, I stayed in the kitchen, chatting with Lola as she prepared dinner. Being with her always lifted my spirits. She was my anchor, my home.

Lola had been through so much. After Lolo Cario fell ill, most of their money went toward his treatments. He had a blood clot in his brain, and despite their efforts, he passed away a year later.

"Lola," I said suddenly, "let's go out tomorrow—just the two of us."

She chuckled. "You're unusually sweet tonight. What's the occasion?"

"I promise, if I win on Monday, you won't have to work at the restaurant anymore. I'll take care of everything you need," I said earnestly.

Her face softened, and she patted my shoulder.

Winning the competition on Monday would open so many doors for me. President Lucas had said I could become a nationally recognized swimmer, someone people would talk about across the country. But fame wasn't my goal. I wanted the prize money. It was a huge sum—enough to give Lola the comfortable life she deserved.

She shook her head, smiling. "You're so full of surprises tonight, apo. Thank you for everything you've done."

I wrapped an arm around her, grateful for her presence in my life.

"You've done so much for me, Lola. I'll never be able to repay you," I said softly.

Her smile faltered for a moment as she gazed at me. "All I want is to see you truly happy, Greco. I hope one day, you'll make amends with your siblings. And your mom."

My chest tightened at her words. The smile slipped from my face.

I hated talking about them—my family. I'd come to terms with the fact that I was no longer part of their lives.

"They loved you, Greco," she continued gently. "Your mom disowned you out of anger, but I know deep down, she still loves you."

I leaned my head against her shoulder, closing my eyes. "I don't blame them for hating me," I whispered.

She shook her head. "It's not your fault, Greco. Your dad loved you enough to make a hard choice, to protect you. Henry was a good man."

I straightened up, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were filled with pride as she looked at me, as if she were seeing the boy she'd raised.

Lola wasn't related to me by blood, but she treated me as if I were her own child. She had worked as a maid in my father's mansion for years and had practically raised him too. When my own family abandoned me, it was Lola who took me in, who gave me a home.

Without her, I would've been lost.