story 3:Vivian
Vivian refused to come at first.
She said once in the group chat and once in person. However, she found herself standing at the campus’s front door with an expressionless face. The air in Vancouver is warmer and softer than in Toronto, but it didn’t make anything better.
The gym was the same as her memories—the high windows, brown walls, and even the echo from basketball shoes rubbing the ground. She paused a second in front of the door, as if she stepped inside, an invisible power would pull her back to something she wanted to escape.
She used to belong to this court, this team.
This thought was sharp like a thorn. Countless nights, she trained at this court until she couldn't even lift her leg. Every time her body reaches the limit, the coach's sound always energizes her heart. She used to build something—something to prove her value and existence.
However, everything ends.
Just a game, just a moment her knee gave out. She knows that it was sudden. The pain had already lasted a few weeks. It was not a sharp pain, instead, it lingered and returned all the time. She was convinced it was nothing serious, hence she decided to ignore it. She played with pain because she wanted to contribute to her team and her university's offer.
But at that critical moment, her body betrayed her. After she stole the ball from the opposing player, she was going for a fast-break layup, when she tried to lift off, her knee failed her, and she collapsed.
That moment still haunts her, replaying in her mind every night.
After the game, Mr.Chiu’s expression—was unreadable. After a few days, that decision came.
She was off the team, and there was no discussion or explanation.
Vivian waited for her friend to push the door. A familiar smell hit her face which made her chest tighten. Her friends walked in ahead of her, and she followed their steps but was still behind.
She saw him suddenly.
Mr.Chiu holds a scoreboard beside the court. When he witnessed them, his face lit up—as if nothing happened.
”Hey! You guys!”
Vivian walks forward unconsciously and embraces him. Her face stretched a reluctant smile, that represented respect only.
”How are you, Vivian?” He asked.
”I’m good.” Her voice sounds flat.
Two words float there without any weight.
She stared at him, watched him laugh and speak easily, as if his decision didn’t change her life at all. But it meant everything to her.
No game, no team, no line on her university application that might have been enough. She was that close to her dream school, she might just need a small step.
But now, she is standing here, and pretending nothing matters.
She gazed at the court, absent-minded.
”Vivian? You okay” he asked.
”Yeah. Of course.” She forced herself to express a wider smile.
This time, the word is even heavier.
Of course.
It felt like a truth she must accept. Her heart tightened.
When she looked back at Mr.Chiu, she realized maybe she didn't even know what she actually wanted— an apology? An explanation? Or an impossible chance that may restart everything?
