Chapter 4 — Lab Partners

Christian

There’s a certain rhythm to the Fieldhouse at night, the kind you can feel in your chest if you’re quiet enough. The hum of the overhead lights, the faint creak of polished floors, the muffled echo of a basketball bouncing in the distance—it’s calm in a way I crave. Different from the chaos of game days, the noise of expectations, the weight of eyes on me. Here, I’m in control. But tonight, the Fieldhouse isn’t where I need to be.