Chris was nervous. Of course, he was.
But it wasn't this bad.
Not during entrance exams or interviews for scholarships.
Not when he had games and competitions.
Not even when the media was trying to eat him alive.
But this—this was different.
He kept glancing sideways at Sky as they walked down the polished corridor, their footsteps quiet on the hospital floor. Sky looked composed—at least, on the surface. But Chris knew him too well. The way his fingers twitched slightly, the way he kept his gaze too forward, too sharp—it all betrayed how on edge he was.
"You don't have to be nervous," Chris said, nudging him gently with his shoulder.
Sky didn't answer, but the stiffness in his posture gave him away.
Chris smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "They're nice. They like you."
Sky finally spoke, his voice low and dry. "They don't even know me."
Chris wanted to say that they do. But instead, he said, "They will." Though, the knot in his stomach betrayed his own nerves.
