Alex's POV
The field is loud, but my head isn't.
I watch Freya lead the cheer squad from across the turf—confident, sharp, completely in control. She counts them in, voice clear, smile steady. I've led a team my whole life, but seeing her do it makes something shift in my chest.
I don't like the way I feel when other guys look at her.
That's when I know.
This isn't a crush.
It's something I don't want to lose.
I leave practice early and find Elara near the dance studio. If anyone understands feelings, it's her.
It's Freya," I say. "I think I like her. For real."
She smiles like she already knew. "I'll help."
Relief settles—until I remember something else.
"Claudio was here earlier, right?"
Her hesitation answers before she speaks. "Yeah. He left when you came."
That bothers me more than I expect.
Claudio doesn't walk away unless something hurts.
For the first time, I wonder if being the captain taught me how to lead everyone—except my own brother.
Elara's POV
Freya's lying on my bed, scrolling through her phone, one leg dangling off the edge. I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor, a book open in my lap that I haven't actually read in five minutes.
"You're quiet," she says. "That's new."
I shrug. "Just thinking."
"About dancing or boys?"
I roll my eyes. "Why is it always boys with you?"
She grins. "Because you only get quiet like this for boys."
I hesitate, then close my book.
"You know Alex?" I say casually.
She doesn't look up. "The football captain? Hard to miss."
"Yeah," I say. "Have you noticed how he looks at you?''That gets her attention. She lowers her phone slowly. "What do you mean?"
"Like he's listening," I say carefully. "Not just hearing."
Freya laughs, but there's a blush creeping into her cheeks. "You're imagining things."
"Maybe," I say. "But he left practice early today."
She sits up now. "Why?"
"To talk to me," I reply. "About you."
Her eyes widen. "Elara."
"I'm just saying," I add quickly. "He's not as confident off the field as he looks."
Freya goes quiet, fingers twisting the edge of her hoodie.
"That's… unexpected," she murmurs.
I smile softly. "Sometimes the loudest people feel the deepest."
She doesn't respond, but later—when she looks at her phone again And this time, she's smiling at Alex's name on the screen.
Freya's POV
I tell myself I'm not thinking about him.
But Alex's name keeps floating into my head between counts, between steps, between the quiet moments when my body is still and my mind isn't.
On the field, he's confident—loud even. But Elara's words replay in my head.
He left practice early. For you.
I stretch my arms above my head, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Cheer captain. Poised. Unshaken. That's what everyone sees.
They don't see the way my heart speeds up when I imagine him not in his jersey, not leading a team—just Alex.
Someone who might actually care.
My phone buzzes.
I don't need to look to know who I hope it is.
Instead, Elara's voice cuts through my thoughts as she steps into the room, eyes bright, energy different."I got the date," she says, breathless.
I turn toward her. "Date?"
"My dance competition," she says, almost glowing. "Next Saturday."
I smile instantly, pushing my thoughts aside. "That's amazing, Elara."
"I know," she says, sitting beside me. "Nationals qualifiers. Big stage. Big crowd."
My chest tightens a little—for her. For how much this means."You're going to be incredible," I say honestly.
She laughs softly, but there's nerves behind it. "I hope so."
I nod, then tease, "Guess I'll be cheering for you this time."
She grins. "I'll need it."
As she talks about costumes and music, my mind drifts again—uninvited—back to Alex.
I wonder if he'll come.
I wonder if he'd watch me the way he watches the field.
And for the first time, I don't push the thought away.
Claudio'pov
The sketch isn't finished.
Elara's form is there—fluid, mid-motion—but her face is blurred, like my hands refuse to define something I'm afraid to lose.
She deserves someone who chooses her loudly.
Alex doesn't hesitate. People like him never do.
I close the sketchbook.
Wanting her quietly might not be enough.
Alex' POV
I pace my room, phone in hand.
Asking Freya out shouldn't be this hard. I've led teams. Faced crowds. Taken hits without flinching.
But this feels different.
This matters.
I stop pacing, exhale, and open my notes app.
Maybe I don't need the perfect plan.
Just honesty.
The night settles quietly over all of us—
four hearts moving in different directions,
two days away from a moment that will change everything.