hope

For the first time, Jay stood up with anger.

He wasn't sure what had compelled him to do it. Maybe it was the way they were all looking at Kyle, like he was some pathetic joke.

Maybe it was the memory of how he'd felt, sitting in that chair, being the target of those same looks. Or maybe it was the realization that, for once, he didn't have to be afraid.

Jay's voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a knife. "Enough."

The crowd turned to him, surprised.

Kyle looked up, his face pale, and for a moment, Jay saw something familiar in his eyes—something he recognized in himself.

"Yeah, he lied," Jay continued, his tone steady despite the rapid beating of his heart. "But you're all acting like you're better than him, and you're not.

You've mocked me for years. You mocked me today. You didn't even think I was worth taking seriously until now."

The crowd shuffled awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.

Jay took a deep breath, his hands no longer shaking. "You called me worthless. You made me feel like nothing. And now that you know I'm good at something, you suddenly care? That's not how this works."

Lia's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. But then she smiled—a soft, genuine smile.

The room was silent again, but this time, it wasn't oppressive. It felt different.

Jay turned to Kyle, who still stood frozen in place. "And you," Jay said, his voice quieter but no less firm. "You don't need to prove anything to them. But next time, maybe don't make promises you can't keep."

Kyle blinked, his mouth opening as if to respond, but no words came out. He finally slumped back into his chair, defeated.

Lia clapped her hands again, this time slowly, drawing everyone's attention back to her. "And that, ladies and gentlemen," she said, her voice playful, "is why you never underestimate someone like Jay. Or, should I say... Shuujin."

Jay's heart hammered in his chest. He could feel the heat rising to his face, a mix of ease and something else he didn't want to name.

"Lia..." he started, his voice barely above a whisper.

But she was already pulling away, giving him a knowing look. "You're gonna have to get used to this, Shuujin. You're a star now," she said, flashing him a grin.

Jay didn't know what to reply. His two worlds had collided in the most unexpected way, and for the first time, he wasn't sure whether to run or stay.

The crowd shifted, a mix of murmurs rippling through the room. Some rolled their eyes, others exchanged uncertain glances. But most just nodded, clearly unwilling to push their luck with someone as popular—and sharp-tongued—as Lia. Her reputation was untouchable, and everyone knew it.

From the back of the room, a voice broke the tension. "Lia, you shouldn't challenge someone when you don't even play that game, girl!"

Jay blinked, glancing between Lia and the speaker—a friend of hers, someone who seemed entirely confident in their remark.

His brows furrowed in confusion. What do they mean she doesn't play? That's Alexio… She's better than me. She's...

The pieces didn't align. Lia, or Alexio, was one of the most formidable players he'd ever faced in Valorant. Not only had she played toe-to-toe with him, she'd trash-talked like a pro and had seven-plus acts in Immortal. The idea that she didn't play the game was absurd. So why would her friend say that?

Lia didn't seem fazed by the comment. She just tilted her head with an innocent smile and waved off the remark, turning her attention back to Jay.

But Jay's mind was racing. "Why would she hide it? Why would Alexio, of all people, pretend not to play?"

He opened his mouth to ask, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself. "Then… what about Alexi—"

Before he could finish, Lia spun around and shut her hand over his mouth.

Jay froze, his eyes wide. Her touch was firm but not forceful, her expression quick to shift into a casual smile as she faced her friend.

"He means, what does the game have to do with anything?" she said smoothly, her voice light and unconcerned. "Jay's new to this kind of attention. He gets nervous when things get competitive."

Her hand lingered for just a second longer, as if silently warning him to let it go. Then she released him, her fingers brushing against his jaw as she pulled back.

Jay swallowed hard, his heart beating louder than it should have.

"Why is she hiding this?" he thought again, the question gnawing at him even as he nodded along, playing his part in her cover story.

"Right," he muttered, his voice quieter than usual. "Just… nervous."

Lia's friend shrugged and moved on, clearly uninterested in pressing the matter further.

But Jay's curiosity was far from satisfied. As Lia's confident facade carried her through the crowd, he found himself watching her more closely, searching for answers.

She had stood up for him, protected him, even played a part in changing the narrative about him at school.

But now he couldn't help but wonder, "What's her story? Why would someone like her—someone who doesn't just play, but dominates—hide that side of herself?"

Lia caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. "You good, Shuujin?"

Jay quickly looked away, shaking his head. "Yeah. Just… thinking."

"Well, stop thinking so much," she said with a playful smirk. "You'll ruin the moment."

Jay managed a faint smile, but the thoughts didn't leave him. Lia was more of a mystery than he'd realized, and for the first time, he felt the urge to figure her out.

"Come on man. This is irritating!"

"Eh? That guy was really good though!"

"He was cool, I guess,"

The crowd began to disperse after that, some still whispering in awe, others glancing at Jay with newfound respect.

When the room had mostly cleared, Lia turned to Jay, a glint of pride in her eyes. "You handled that pretty well, Shuujin."

Without warning, Lia stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in another quick hug. This time, it wasn't playful or teasing—it was warm, genuine. She leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper. "Told you, you don't have to hide anymore."

Lia leaned down again, catching his gaze. "You did great," she said softly, her teasing tone replaced with genuine warmth. "Told you—you don't have to hide behind the screen anymore."

Jay's face flushed, his chest tight, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't from fear.

Even so, Jay thought to himself, "I don't know why you are hiding yourself like me, but whatever it is, I promise I will stand by you!."

But his heart was louder than ever. For the first time in a long time, he felt something unfamiliar: Hope.