IN DEEP

The scent of chlorine was a familiar comfort, a constant reminder of the world where you reigned supreme. But even the pool felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage these days. The weight of expectations—gold medals, perfect form, the Moetti name—pressed down on you, heavier than any diving block.
Early morning was your only respite. The school's indoor court, deserted before dawn, was your secret kingdom. Here, the rhythmic glide of roller skates across the polished wood was the only sound, a stark contrast to the constant splash and roar of the pool.
Today, however, the silence was broken. The screech of basketball shoes echoed as you rounded the corner. A tall figure, already dominating the court, turned towards you, a scowl etched on his face.