The atmosphere in the gym was electric. Every dribble, every movent—it all felt heavier now.
On the bench, Coonie Smith leaned forward, gripping his knees. His sharp black eyes followed Lucas Graves and Ethan Albarado like a hawk.
"(What the hell am I even watching right now?)"
Lucas had just snatched a rebound over Jaxon Wells.
That alone was insane.
Jaxon was the best center in the league. A monster in the paint. A rebounding machine.
And yet—
Lucas, a bench player, had outjumped him.
Coonie wasn't the only one stunned.
Jeremy Park, who had played earlier in the ga, was staring at the court, mouth slightly open.
Kai ndoza, another bench player, shook his head in disbelief.
"Yo, did Graves just—"
"Yeah, he fucking did." Coonie muttered, eyes wide.
Lucas landed, imdiately kicking the ball out to Ethan.
And then—Ethan Albarado took control.
The mont he got the ball, everything slowed down.
His eyes scanned the court, his posture shifting. It wasn't just confidence.
It was control.
It was like he already knew what was going to happen.
The bench could see it.
Hell, everyone in the gym could see it.
Noah White, Aiden's older brother, sat completely still, his hands gripping his jeans.
He had never seen anything like this.
Lucas and Ethan weren't just bench players stepping up.
They were dominating.
And the crazy part?
It wasn't luck.
It wasn't flukes.
They were actually that good.
Coonie clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "(These two... they're not normal.)"
Jeremy finally broke the silence.
"Bro. What the fuck. How were these guys bench players?!"
Kai exhaled sharply. "Coach never gave them a chance. That fatass never even played Ethan once before this."
Jeremy grit his teeth. "(This whole ti... we had these two just sitting on the fucking bench?)"
He turned to look at Coach Fred Mason.
The idiot looked nervous.
Of course he did.
He had spent the entire season sabotaging this team with favoritism and no strategy.
And now, two guys he kept buried on the bench were proving how much of a fraud he was.
Coonie sneered.
"(Bet you're shitting yourself now, huh, Coach?)"
anwhile, on the court—
Lucas and Ethan were locked in.
Lucas wiped the sweat off his chin, golden eyes burning with determination.
Ethan dribbled calmly, his fingers tapping against the ball, his breathing controlled.
There was no panic.
No hesitation.
The two of them—bench players—had taken the ga into their hands.
And for the first ti since the tip-off...
Orlando Hoops looked uncertain.
Noah White let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
He turned to his injured little brother, Aiden White.
Aiden was staring, completely frozen.
"...Holy shit." Aiden muttered. "Lucas and Ethan are actually fucking insane."
Noah just nodded what his brother saying.
"hmm."
Because the truth was obvious now.
They weren't just so lucky benchwarrs.
Lucas Graves and Ethan Albarado were built for this.
And they weren't done yet.
Lily, their little sister, turned toward him.
"Noah... do you think they can win?"
Noah turned back to the court.
To Lucas, who had just grabbed a rebound over Jaxon Wells.
To Ethan, who was scanning the court with those sharp, calculating eyes.
And finally—to Coach Corson, who had just called a tiout.
Noah's stomach tightened.
Sothing was coming.
He could feel it.
He took a deep breath.
"...I don't know," he finally said. "But they're not going down easy."
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