Turns out, the balcony door really was due for replacement. The venue team even apologized, said they’d prioritize fixing it so something like that wouldn’t happen again, not just for me but for anyone.
No scandal. No headlines. No whispers. Just quiet.
And that’s how it stayed. Quiet.
I’d been back in Brisbane for a while now, ever since the champions’ dinner wrapped up and all the chaos faded. What followed was the quiet, the kind that only home could hold.
I rolled out of bed, dragging a hoodie over my tank top and tying my hair up with the nearest elastic I could find.
In the kitchen, soft lights glowed from under the cabinets. My mom stood by the island counter in a sleek robe, talking quietly with our cook, who was plating grilled tomatoes and longganisa. My dad was by the coffee maker, mug already in hand.
“Morning,” I croaked, rubbing my eyes.
I sipped the water gratefully, letting the early morning calm settle into my bones. It felt like Brisbane again. Like home.
“You’re up early,” I said, still blinking the sleep from my eyes.
She chuckled, stirring something on the stove. “It’s nearly noon, love. You’re the one who slept half the day away.”
I smiled into my glass, shaking my head. “Guess I needed it.”
She nodded toward the kitchen door. “The guest speaker is at the airport right now, boarding the plane. She's arriving a day early. I’m just finalizing her schedule with the staff before everything gets hectic tomorrow when she gets here.”
I poured myself a glass of water and leaned against the counter. “Big name?”
Mom shrugged, a little too casually. “Let’s just say she’s someone with experience. Should be good for the juniors to hear from her.”
I frowned, curious. “Have I met her?”
Her smile was way too controlled. “Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll find out soon enough.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why so mysterious? You usually tell me everything. Is it someone I’d embarrass myself around or something?”
Dad chuckled behind his mug. “Let her have her moment. You know your mom likes the drama of a reveal.”
“Alright, well, whoever she is, I hope she’s got good jet lag tolerance. Brisbane at 7 a.m. isn’t exactly a gentle welcome.”
Mom just gave me a knowing look and turned back to the stovetop, humming to herself like she hadn’t just dropped a hint with a thousand layers.
Dad raised an eyebrow from behind his coffee mug. “Back already? Didn’t think we’d see you in court shoes so soon.”
I shrugged, but there was a quiet pride building in my chest. “The doctor cleared me the other day. Full movement, no inflammation, no structural issues. I’m good to go.”
Mom turned around fully now, eyes bright. “Really?”
I nodded. “No hard hitting for a bit, but I’m allowed full court drills again. Coach Kit wants to ease me back into rhythm before we head to Cincinnati Open.”
“That’s good pacing, you’ll build momentum without burning out,” Dad said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “You’ll be back to full swing in no time. Just remember, don’t get ahead of your body.”
“I know, I know,” I said, sliding into my seat. “Believe it or not, I’ve learned my lesson.”
Dad took a sip of his coffee, eyes still half on the newspaper spread open across the table.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked, leaning against the counter.
He glanced up at Mom before answering. “Hitting the road again. Long-distance triathlon in three days with my team.”
“Can I come watch?” I asked, perking up a little.
