"You can't live your life waiting for the perfect moment. Life happens while you're waiting for it." —John Lennon
The day had arrived. The gymnasium buzzed with excitement. The bleachers were packed with students cheering loudly, intoxicated by the passion of the game. Led by Dylan, the varsity basketball team played in the finals, aiming for their second consecutive championship. Every time he made a play, the crowd erupted. His focus was sharp, his moves fluid—he seemed to float above the court. The MVP? Undoubtedly, Dylan.
But amidst the applause and celebration, Dylan searched the crowd for one face: Ailín's.
He didn't find her.
A shadow crossed his heart.
At the edge of the celebration, Vivian smiled for the cameras and posed with the cheerleaders. But her gaze remained fixed on Dylan. She knew the moment was his, but couldn't help noticing how his eyes scanned the crowd—looking for someone who clearly wasn't her.
A knot twisted in her stomach.
"Probably looking for her parents," a friend offered casually.
"Or that weird volleyball girl," another added with a sneer.
Vivian said nothing. Just smiled, like she always did.
Since childhood, she had learned that her place depended on being the center of attention—her looks, her charm, her energy. Everyone expected her and Dylan to be perfect together: "The cheer captain and the basketball captain." Even her friends reinforced it with comments like, "You two are the ideal couple."
But lately, the story was falling apart.
What if Dylan actually liked the quiet girl who didn't even try to stand out?
What if Vivian… wasn't enough anymore?
The cold feeling in her chest wasn't just jealousy. It was fear—of fading into the background. Of not mattering anymore.
The next day was Ailín's turn. The women's volleyball team had reached the finals—an unprecedented event. The bleachers were full again, and Dylan was there, seated among the crowd.
Ailín played with intensity. But during a crucial play, she missed a pass. The set was tied. On the bench, she felt Oscurita stirring.
"You blew it. You always do. You're never like the others."
But in the next serve, she executed a powerful and unexpected move. Her team took the lead.
And minutes later, they won.
The players hugged and celebrated. Ailín did too. But the tear that slid down her cheek wasn't just relief—it was exhaustion.
After the game, the coaches announced a celebratory dinner. Outside, Dylan and his friends waited. When he saw Ailín, he walked toward her.
"You were amazing," he said with a proud smile. "That comeback after your mistake... not everyone could do that."
She smiled back. But Oscurita whispered inside.
"Impressive? If only you knew..."
That night, alone in her room, Ailín opened her notebook. Her ritual.
"What a disaster. Everyone says I did well, but I know the truth. Maybe I'm just fooling them."
She looked at her hands. The calluses from volleyball told a different story—of effort and persistence.
"I don't need to be perfect," she whispered.
A knock on the door interrupted her. Andrea.
"Hey, are you okay? You were amazing. You're on this team for a reason—even if you don't always see it."
Ailín exhaled.
"Sometimes I feel like I should be more like Victoria... or like you. More confident. Less... me. And now, with Dylan, I feel ridiculous."
Andrea sat beside her.
"We all have insecurities. I used to compare myself to Victoria too. But I realized I'd rather like myself than try to impress others."
Ailín looked at her, surprised.
"You seem so confident."
"Confidence is like a serve—it's practiced. And you've practiced more than you think. Dylan sees the real you. And that is enough."
For the first time in a while, Oscurita was quiet. Just for tonight.
That night's dinner was full of laughter, music, and a strange new closeness between the teams. Dylan kept his eyes on Ailín. When the evening wound down, he caught up to her.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?"
They stepped away. The night breeze cooled the air.
"I like you," Dylan said. "Would you be my girlfriend?"
The words hit her like a bolt of lightning. Her heart raced. Oscurita rose at once.
"You? You'll mess it up. Like always."
But Ailín didn't respond immediately. She asked for time.
Dylan nodded.
That night, she lay awake, flooded by questions.
What if she failed?
What if she lost herself?
But this was different. Dylan hadn't been chosen for her. He had chosen her.
The next morning, he was waiting.
Her heart pounded, but her answer was clear.
"Dylan, you're wonderful," she said. "But I'm not ready. I want to focus on school, volleyball, and... me. I think it's better this way."
He nodded—sad, but respectful.
As she walked to class, she noticed something new: Oscurita was still there... but she was the one leading now.