Chapter 202: Preparation to the Olympics
Dayo sat on the living-room couch, his back resting against the soft cushion as he watched his family move around the house. Afternoon light ca through the curtains, and the quiet hum of the ceiling fan filled the room. His sister Janet and his younger brother Jeffery were on the floor, arguing lightly about a video ga. His parents sat at the dining table, talking in low tones, their conversation slow and peaceful.
It was a normal scene. Ordinary. Warm.
But his heartbeat wasn’t exactly normal.
For the past two weeks, everything had moved fast. Training, dia noise, online debates, the shock of the swimming world, the chaotic energy surrounding the U.S. team — all of it had piled up on him. He didn’t show it on his face, not even once. But inside, the pressure had been building quietly.
Competing in one Olympic event was enough to make any athlete nervous. Competing in two was rare unless you were a proven star. But three?
The 50m freestyle.
The 100m freestyle.
The 200m freestyle.
Three of the most competitive and cutthroat swimming events in the entire Olympics. Sprint events where one mistake, one breath taken too late, one wrong propulsion, one tiny mont of hesitation could be the difference between top eight and elimination.
Dayo had qualified for all three.
The world was talking about him. Critics, fans, analysts, doubters, all of them.
But right here, in his parents’ living room, there were no critics.
Only family.
Jeffery burst out laughing when Janet lost another round in the ga. Janet hissed and hit him with a pillow. Their parents didn’t even look up; they were used to them. Dayo smiled a little. A small smile — the kind that ca unconsciously. The kind that ca from comfort.
He hadn’t had much peace recently.
But this? This he needed.
He took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift across the room again. He thought of everything ahead — the flights, the pressure, the caras, the expectations, the world watching — and for a mont, he felt the weight heavy on his chest.
Then he looked back at his family.
His mother t his eyes and raised a brow, silently asking if he was okay. Dayo nodded. His father gave him a small grin from across the table — one of those proud, subtle smiles that didn’t need words.
That alone steadied him.
His family had been the quiet background force pushing him forward. They didn’t make noise online, they didn’t drag attention, they didn’t involve themselves in any drama. They simply stayed behind him, raising him, believing in him, and showing him love even when the world didn’t.
Dayo exhaled slowly.
The Olympics were huge. They carried weight that no championship or national race could compare to. Winning an Olympic dal changed a person’s life forever. Even qualifying alone was sothing history wouldn’t forget.
And yet... he wasn’t scared.
Not really.
This year was different. The scandal had shaken every country. So nations had lost more than half their team. Others were barely able to field competitors in certain events. It wouldn’t be the strongest Olympic swimming field in history — that was clear to everyone — but it would still be the Olympics.
Dayo knew that even injured lions were lions.
But seeing his family reminded him that he had already survived things worse than pressure. He had lived through storms that never made headlines. He had seen betrayal, sabotage, loss, fa, and pain. The pool was nothing compared to the things he had already faced.
He watched Jeffery and Janet again.
He watched his parents smiling.
He watched the ho he grew up in.
Then he closed his eyes for a second and breathed in deeply.
He was ready.
---
Two Days Later — The Flight
The U.S. swimming team gathered at the private terminal arranged for their travel. Coaches, athletes, dical staff, analysts, and team officials filled the room. Bags rustled, nas were called, and everyone’s expression carried the mix of excitent and pressure.
People kept glancing at Dayo.
Not because he was a celebrity — though so younger team mbers looked starstruck — but because he was one of the few competing in three sprint events.
Richard walked past him and gave him a firm nod, the kind that said stay focused. So of the swimrs waved at him. Evan passed and gave him a fist bump. A few others whispered among themselves about how surreal it still felt.
They boarded the plane.
And after several hours in the air, they landed in Paris.
---
*Paris*
The mont the bus left the airport, it was obvious: Paris was alive.
The streets were full. Not chaotic, but full — tourists, athletes from different countries, flags everywhere, vendors selling Olympic-thed items, couples walking with caras around their necks, and groups of supporters wearing their nations’ colors.
Paris looked like it had been waiting for this mont.
The city didn’t feel poetic. It felt busy. Real. Active. People in motion. Athletes jogging on sidewalks. Volunteers directing crowds. Banners hanging from tall buildings. The energy was loud — differently loud from Arica, but loud in its own way.
When the U.S. team reached the Athlete Village, they imdiately began the check-in process. Luggage moved. Rooms were assigned. Schedules were handed out. Coaches grouped their athletes and went over the rules and curfews.
Inside his room, Dayo dropped his bag and sat on the edge of the bed.
He looked out the window.
The Olympic stadium was visible in the distance, its lights bright even during the day.
His heartbeat thumped — not out of fear, but out of awareness.
This was it.
***
Preliminary Warm-Ups
The next morning, the entire swimming team reported to the aquatic arena. The pool was huge, surrounded by bright lights, technicians checking equipnt, athletes stretching, and reporters gathering in controlled zones.
Countries from all over the world had arrived.
So nations looked strong.
Others looked incomplete.
Every athlete wore the sa expression: focus.
The elimination rounds for swimming were about to begin — This was were athlete knew their rivals and were the pressure work the most.
Although many believed this year’s Olympics would be weaker due to the scandal, it quickly beca clear that so nations still had monsters in the pool. Tis being recorded in warm-ups were sharp. Executions were tight.
The United States was the biggest underdog.
But they also had the largest number of qualifiers.
All eyes were on them.
Especially on the swimrs competing in multiple events.
Especially on Dayo.
He walked to the starting block during warm-up, placed his goggles on, and adjusted them. The water looked calm, almost flat. Athletes dove in one by one for practice laps. The stadium echoed with splashes, whistles, and light chatter.
Dayo crouched, inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes for half a second.
The Olympics.
Three events.
Millions watching.
Pressure? Yes.
Fear? No.
He opened his eyes.
He had survived everything life threw at him.
He would handle the water too.
He stood up, rolled his shoulders, and prepared for his first warm-up sprint.
Whatever ca next, he was ready to face it head-on.
A/N: Please shower this author with Golden ticket and stone ??
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