"Taylor. Taylor Rapp."
Lance looked at the hand extended in front of him—broad, solid, yet trembling slightly. Despite trying with all his might to stay steady, excitent and nerves surged hot in his blood.
Lance reached out and firmly grasped it, sending back a steady and strong grip that imdiately lit a spark in the boy's eyes.
So overwheld and ecstatic, Taylor was completely imrsed in the mont. Even feeling the warmth and strength of Lance's hand, he still couldn't believe it was real. His expression was dazed:
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
"Taylor!" the girl beside him tugged on his arm.
Startled, Taylor quickly let go and glanced at his palm nervously, as if even that brief touch had made him sweat again. Embarrassed, he scratched his head and stamred, "Oh, this is Dani—Dani Johnson."
Compared to the boy, Dani was a bit calr. "It's so great to et you. You have no idea—during the Divisional Round two weeks ago, Taylor had his hands clasped the whole ti, silently praying."
"Oh my god, I think he was more nervous than you guys on the field."
"And then…"
She broke into laughter, unable to hold back, nearly bending over with joy. Taylor looked embarrassed and scratched his head again.
Lance stood there, confused.
Dani noticed, pulled out her phone, found sothing quickly, and handed it over to Lance—
It was a video.
In it, Taylor was on his knees, hands clasped in prayer, facing the TV, completely oblivious to those around him. He stared fixedly at the screen broadcasting the Chiefs vs. Patriots Divisional Round.
It was—without a doubt—the mont of the "Hail Mary."
Lance hadn't expected to relive that play.
In the clip, the second Lance made the catch, Taylor leapt up, shouting, "He did it! Oh God, he did it!"
Then he collapsed on the floor, head buried in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably, repeating, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it." His body shook with the emotion, his shoulders and back trembling.
Monts later, Taylor shot up again, ripped his shirt open like the Hulk, and scread toward the ceiling with everything he had.
Behind the cara, Dani laughed the entire ti. She had clearly never seen Taylor act like that before. But he didn't care—completely imrsed, celebrating with the Chiefs on-screen.
Pure, raw happiness.
Lance looked up again. Dani nudged Taylor playfully and teased, "He really thought he was on the field with you."
Lance handed her the phone and turned to Taylor. "We can agree—it's not an impossible dream. So, Taylor, what school do you go to?"
Thanks to Dani's encouragent, Taylor managed to steady himself a bit. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the mix of excitent and nervousness. "University of Washington."
Lance blinked. "Didn't we play you guys last year?"
In the College Football Playoff semifinals last season, Alabama had beaten Washington.
Taylor looked a bit sheepish. "Yeah, but I was just a freshman. Didn't get any playoff ti. I was on the sidelines. I was too embarrassed to cheer for you. My dad's from Alabama though—he was happy to root for the Crimson Tide."
"You have no idea how hard it was, standing there, unable to focus on the ga."
Lance chuckled. So this was the modern version of being caught between two worlds.
Taylor didn't know what Lance was thinking, but seeing Lance's laugh helped him relax even more. "After a full sophomore year, I should be a starter next season. I'm confident I'll earn it. But… no chance to face you anymore."
He went from thrilled to disappointed in a second.
Still a kid, through and through.
Lance smiled, eyes filled with warmth. "What position?"
"Safety."
"Ha! Then we might still et. One day, I hope we face each other on a pro field—straight-up, one-on-one."
That one simple line made Taylor's blood surge. He straightened his back and looked at Lance with renewed determination. "I'll keep working for that."
Even now, Asian players in football remained rare. To call them "uncommon" would be generous. But with Lance's teoric rise, everything had started to change. Asian NCAA players were now filled with hope and drive.
That was sothing Lance hadn't really considered—
His journey wasn't just about breaking records. He was blazing a trail, inspiring others. Becoming a symbol for a whole new generation.
One NCAA season. One NFL season. Lance had left behind countless records, miracles, and legends—lighting up an untouched frontier.
Maybe they were heading toward a brand new future.
"I wanna try tackling you soday," Taylor said, full of youthful energy, clenching his fists.
Lance burst out laughing. "That might be a bit tough. But I'm ready—bring it on anyti."
Then—
Lance extended his right hand again and introduced himself solemnly. "Lance."
Though they'd already shaken hands before, this one was different. Not as fan and idol, but as athlete to athlete. Future opponents.
Taylor could barely contain himself. His shoulders pulled back, chest out. Words ca to the tip of his tongue—but he swallowed them and corrected himself. "Chi Youjun."
He gripped Lance's hand hard. His trembling wrist and forearm revealed the storm still raging inside him.
Lance was surprised. That na—undeniably Chinese. Asian players were rare in football. Chinese players? Almost unheard of. Now, Lance truly looked forward to eting Chi Youjun on the field one day.
From the bottom of his heart, Lance hoped to see more Chinese and Asian players in the NFL—battling openly, equally, on the grand stage.
"Well then, I'll be looking for your na in next year's draft."
With that, Lance turned to leave—but was imdiately stopped by a wall of people and eyes.
In just under three minutes—when he first stepped out of the cab, no one had noticed him because all eyes were on the mural. But now, a simple turn of his broad, towering fra had drawn everyone's attention—and surrounded him.
Well then…
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Powerstones?
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