And somehow… I did it. I climbed every rung, fought through every match, every doubt, every voice that said I couldn’t. And now it’s real. I’m the No. 1 player in the world.
The ceremony, the confetti, the endless flashing cameras, all of it blurred into a golden haze. For once, I didn’t care about the noise. I just held the trophy tight against me, letting it ground me, reminding me that this wasn’t some dream I’d wake up from. This was real.
When the interviews were over and the crowd had filed out, I finally ducked into the quiet of the locker room. Coach Dani leaned against the wall, still grinning like a fool.
“World number one,” she said, almost teasing. “Better get used to hearing that.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I traced the cool edge of the trophy with my thumb. “Feels surreal. But… yeah. Guess I’ll have to.”
The truth was, it still hadn’t fully sunk in. Maybe it wouldn’t until tomorrow or the next tournament, or the next ranking update. But tonight, I could finally breathe. I’d finished the year on top.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow I’d trade in tennis whites and blinding spotlights for something else entirely: Bianca’s engagement party in the Philippines three days from now. My sister’s big moment.
I was already making lists in my head, gifts to buy, dresses to pack, speeches I might be forced to give if Bianca shoved a microphone into my hand. Honestly, the thought of facing their friends and our family in heels was somehow scarier than facing my opponent’s forehand.
Maddie caught me shoving things into my suitcase like I was trying to beat a shot-clock. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. “World No. 1 and still packing like a teenager running late for school.”
I threw a pair of trainers at her, laughing. “You try fitting two weeks of tennis gear, plus something appropriate for an engagement party, into one bag. It’s a nightmare.”
She dodged the trainers easily, smirking. “You’ll survive. Besides, if I know Bianca, she’s not going to let you just sit quietly in the corner. You better be ready to stand there and look like the proud sister.”
I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, she was right. Bianca deserved the spotlight now. My job was to show up, smile, and make sure she knew I was proud of her. Tennis could wait. Rankings could wait. For once, I wanted to be Olivia the sister, not Olivia the player.
And maybe… just maybe… that felt even more important than the trophy I’d just lifted.
ALEXANDRA
Yesterday still felt like it was clinging to me, the kind of day you replay whether you want to or not. The World Triathlon Championship Series in the French Riviera, my first real shot among the elites and somehow I’d hauled myself across the line in eighth. Out of the whole bloody world.
On paper, that’s brilliant for a so-called wildcard. In reality? Try finishing eighth while your best friend, Cassandra Dubois, the actual world No. 1, made the course look like a casual warm-up jog. She glided to first like it was hers by birthright, and I staggered in feeling equal parts proud and mugged. Still, progress. Points on the board.
Georgia had already texted me a dozen times about timing and flights, and then, as if the universe had a sense of humor, Cassandra’s Tokyo training camp got shuffled around. So instead of just linking up with Georgia, it turned into a full squad reunion plan.
Georgia was buzzing about family, Cassandra was pretending this was “just a detour,” and me? I was just relieved Dad gave me the green light.
Fast-forward to now: The van rumbled along the coastal road, windows down just enough to let in the humid, salty air. Georgia’s brother was at the wheel, sleeves rolled up, grinning like the unofficial tour guide of Coron. “Comfortable back there? Cold water’s in the cooler if you need it. Welcome to paradise.”
Georgia leaned forward, resting her chin on the seat. “By the way, William, this is Cassandra, number one in the world at making me feel unfit and Alex, who refuses to admit she’s secretly a machine.”
William shot a quick glance in the rearview, nodding warmly. “Ah, the famous friends. Georgia’s been talking about you both non-stop. Said if I didn’t roll out the red carpet, she’d never forgive me.”
Cassandra raised a brow, deadpan. “A red carpet would’ve been nice.”
I smirked. “Don’t mind her. She thinks five-star treatment is baseline.”
William chuckled, eyes still on the road. “Noted.”
By the time the van rolled to a stop at the resort, the sun was already leaning past noon. The place was almost too picturesque, white beach curving into turquoise water, palm fronds swaying like they’d been choreographed for an ad, and fairy lights for the party.
Georgia whistled low, pulling her sunglasses off. “Okay, wow. You really went all out.”
William grinned, hopping out first. “This is just the start. Wait till tonight you’ll see it lit up.”
We grabbed our bags, following him down the sandy path toward the cluster of villas tucked behind the palms.The resort staff moved quick, helping with luggage, pointing out where everything was. Georgia ended up with a whole room to herself in one of the corner villas, while Cassandra and I were paired up in the one next to hers.
Our room was simple but airy and a balcony that opened straight onto the sea. I dropped my duffel on one bed, stretching my arms above my head with a groan.
Cassandra flopped face-first onto the other. “God. Heaven.”
