The Playoffs of the WNBA were once a best of three, but as the interest of the public grew, the rules changed, a best of seven. The winner has to win four. There is no luck anymore, you have to be the best team to win it all. And Hannah doesn’t have that, she never did and she knows it.

But that doesn’t stop her from trying, fighting against better teams, worse teams, better players and now, the New York Seagulls. She somehow managed to push them to the brink, a game seven at their homecourt.

All the sacrifice, all the training, all the pain comes down to one game, one single basketball match, something she has done more times than she can remember, if she loses this, the year is over, another year without reaching the conference finals, another year without winning it all. All the uneaten meals, the spilled blood, sweat and tears, everything for one game.

Hannah rested in one of front row seats, back arched forwards, mouth slightly open, gaze focused solely on the floor and her knee rapidly moving up and down, she can’t hear what the others are saying, muffled sounds are promptly ignored, not even her own thoughts are gathering her attention, it’s almost like she is not really there.

Until she hears it, cutting through the quietness in her mind, a laugh so honest, so happy and so unique that she doesn’t even need to look up to know the source of it, looking at everyone on the enemy team, eyes stopping at the worst person she knows. Yuki Saya. Wide smile while she grabs the ball after missing a layup.

A deep scowl appeared on her face, the carefree nature of the Center even in big moments like these is the reason why Hannah can never truly understand her best friend, Saya doesn't care, but she stills plays better than everyone on the floor. Better than Court. Always better.

“Are you trying to steal my girl?” The calm and collected voice of a man took her out of her own reflection.

Taking her eyes out of the star player, she looked up, meeting Paul, a baby faced man, puffy cheeks, very pale pink skin, a bowl cut blonde hair that never stays where it should be, 6’6, broad shoulders, light blue eyes and a beautiful shining smile on his face. Yuki’s boyfriend? Groom? Husband? Hannah has no idea at this point.

With a weak smile that fits perfectly on her exhausted face, Hannah replied, “You can have her, please take her out of today’s game, please.” 

He laughs resting his head against the chair, “That depends, are you playing like Ogunbowale again?”

“I don’t think I can play forty five minutes again, so maybe she can skip the third quarter, how about that?” 

“I think that if you two skip one quarter the Seagulls win by thirty.”

Those words cut deep, it should be a compliment, but it isn't, it’s just another confirmation of what she already knows, they can’t win without her, she has the worst team. And the worst team always loses. She is good, but certainly not enough. Court pushes her face on her open hands, trying to somehow vanish from this place, she tries to hold it in, hesitating before all of the anger spills out in a single phrase in a hushed breath. “They. Are. So. Bad. Everytime I take a break those idiots go down by ten points. I’m so tired. They can’t score a single point on that fuc—”

A presence appears slumping at the seat at her side, from the corner of her eye she sees her friend saying, “talking about me behind my back? That 's not nice.”

Paul smiles at his girlfriend, but Hannah can’t bring herself to do the same. The sheer difference in appearance is enough to tell the whole story. While Court has heavy bags under puffy eyes, hair tied in a messy bun and bruises all over her arms and legs Yuki is completely different, a well rested face, hair styled into two braids reaching just under her chest and the nail in the coffin, that same unbothered and happy smile, almost like she already knows the result of todays match.

“Well, honey, Hannah here was just excited for game seven, it’s great isn't it? I’m excited and I'm not even gonna play.”

“Yeah, it’s like, so much fun. there’s always a little thingy on the back of our minds reminding us that everything is on the line,” Yuki talks with the same bubbly tone and excited nodding as every other day, until she turns to Hannah, finishing her sentence with a question, “but isn’t this just like game six for you? That was pretty cool by the way.”

The shorter girl has to hold herself back from scoffing, happy with a single eye roll, she answers with a smile, “kinda, hopefully the result will be the same. We should aim for 100 points again.”

“Nah, I hate overtime, I get paid to play forty minutes and that’s it. So, please, please, lose in regulation, don’t drag it out.” There is a hint of a smile on her words as she banters.

Usually, there would be another remark coming, a promise to win it all, but this time, Hannah just nods, muttering a quick goodbye and leaving her place without saying another word. She knows that the anger directed at the taller woman is misplaced, it doesn’t matter how serious another person is, she should win it all anyways. While deep in thought, she fails to realize the two pairs of eyes watching her, one filled with curiosity, while the other filled with admiration.

“Checking another girl out in front of your boyfriend? That’s rather harsh.” Paul whispers with the same knowing smirk in his lips.

Yuki lets out a deep sigh, shaking her head and swallowing a lump on her throat. She looks at the man at her side, ready to say something, but stops herself, gaze once again following the woman wearing the number 3. “I… I love her so much…”

The smile on his face vanishes, he closes the distance between them in a calm hug, the cameras immediately turning to them, keeping his posture, he covers his mouth by pressing his head on the woman’s back as he whispers, “You have a pillow with her name on it don’t you?”

She backs away while laughing, gently pushing him away, moving her gaze to the logo on the floor, “Shut up. I don’t see her like that… I mea— I do see her like that, but she is so… I don’t even think she knows what sex is, she’ll probably think it’s a new play on the wing or something.”

A little under thirty minutes later, in that same spot Yuki was looking when she made her off handed comment, Court held the ball in her possession, slowing down the play while she stared at the defender in front of her. Five seconds until halftime and she was still about twenty eight feet from the basket, and even if she could get there, Saya wouldn't let her get an easy layup. She should pass.

Every cell on her body screams for a pass, it’s the correct play, Lindy, the Center of the Sorcerers, just ran to the baseline, she should’ve passed. But she doesn’t, it is almost like her body is moving on its own, in isolation, arching her back she dribbles two times, one to the right, one to the left, and immediately after she steps to the side getting her body into motion and shooting a jump shot from deep three point range, the fingertips of Camilla almost reaching the ball, but it was not enough, the buzzer reverberates throughout the stadium just as the shot hits, screams of agony from angry fans and a slightly quieter commemoration from the Sorcerers and their fans.

The only Sorcerer without a smile is the woman that made the shot, Hannah doesn’t lose her neutral expression, just quickly moving to the locker room.

The cameras of the broadcast follow Hannah, in every television, in every screen the scoreboard shows (48) Sorcerers X (51) Seagulls. (PG) Hannah Court 31 Points, 3 Rebounds, 6 Assists. (12/17 FG) (7/9 3P) (0/0 FT) 20 minutes played.

The locker room fills with joy as the team enters it, after two quarters, always chasing after the other team, never actually snatching the lead from them, laughter, celebrations, all of it follows Hannah as sits on one of the benches, absentmindedly grabbing the ice packs that the coach gives her, when she slaps them in her knees, the feeling of relief immediately runs through her body, letting out a sigh, she looks at her team. Their smiles, like they are winning, like they are going to win it. Why are they happy if they are going to lose? Why are they smiling if they are horrible at basketball? Why is she stuck with them?

“We're gonna win it all! broken Bones Mulan don’t got nothing on the Ice Princess!” Lindy, a white woman with a grecian nose, spiky white hair tied in a beautiful ponytail, sharp eyes with protuberant lashes, at around 6 '4 she still towers above Hannah as she leans down for a high five.

Slowly, the shorter woman gets up, blonde hair falling in front of her face, her cheeks and neck still painted with red as her body begs her to rest, she gently lowers Lindy’s hands down, staring up directly at her eyes, with the same intensity she has when looking at the ball she says, “She’s from New Jersey not China, and her parents are from Japan. But that isn't the worst thing you said, how the hell do you expect us to win with you playing like that?”

“What I ha—”

“You have 6 points, yes, yes congratulations. Yuki has 10 offensive rebounds, she is stepping all over your tiny body in the paint. It’s like you’re not even there, and don’t get me started on you Kate.” She finishes her sentence looking at the young girl to her left.

The Shooting Guard is a little younger, only in her third year in the WNBA, dark brown skin and black hair,bright brown becoming wide with the realization that she is next on the chopping block. As Court moves closer, finally meeting someone face to face since they are both about the same height and same body type she murmurs, “You have 0 points. You are so sorry! You can’t play a lick of offense and can’t guard a snail on defense, it’s like you’re profusely sorry at every part of basketball!”

Hannah moves back, feeling all the eyes on her, trying to calm down and keep her energy for the second half, but she can’t stop herself, gently picking up Kate’s hands with her own, and locking eyes with her again she whispers, “You have to hoop, for us, one time. Only once, if you hoop today we’ll forget about every terrible game you had this season, just once, could you do that for me?”

The Argentinian woman sighs, looking down at her hands she says, “Sure… I’ll do my best Captain.”

“C’mon Cap. You’re tripping. We’re barely behind. If you weren’t so scared of Yuki we could’ve been up.” The Center bites back, first closed in anger as she stares at the shorter woman.

“Are you… are you high? Is this one of the games where you come back after a rager and forget how to play basketball?” Hannah says, voice calm, but nostrils flaring, eyes wide open and the blush on her cheeks reappearing with every second.

“What? Am I wrong, you keep shooting threes and fifteen footers because you can’t go to the paint, and you don’t pass the ball because you don’t trust us getting through her. Am I wrong?” Lindy explains, voice high and accusatory, the Seagulls can probably hear their argument from their locker room.

Hannah puts one hand on her head, letting out a slight chuckle while looking around her teammates, in a shaky breath, she says, “I get it… you’re not high, you’re just bad. You just don’t know how to play a game of basketball, you garbage, you the bottom of the barrel yo— No I must be dreaming, there’s no way this my life.”

“It’s not our fault that their superstar is better than ours.” One voice came out from behind her, making everyone turn to the woman that said it.

Big square glasses in front of a sharp face almost hidden behind the voluminous and messy black hair of the woman, her green eyes staring daggers at the starting Point Guard, Alice, the back up PG that plays more minutes as a SG than actual shooting guards, gets up, stepping into Hannah’s personal space and pressing a finger on her chest, “Why don’t you look at yourself, you are a Point Guard, you should facilitator, not a stat padding ball hogger like every other game.”

“Alice, you have no hands, no bag and no presence, I actually believe you’re a tax right off for the team.” The other girl opens her mouth to respond, but Hannah just continues, raising her voice to shut her up. “But, I will forget that, you have twenty minutes to score twenty points. Now shut the hell up and let the coach come up with a plan that probably won’t involve you since you can’t hit a shot to save your life.”

“You must think you’re so great…”

“I don’t think, I know, and even though I ain’t close to being as successful as I want to be, I know that I am better than you, I was better than you, and I will be better than you. Now, stop smoking so much weed and focus on the goddamn game..”

Hannah realizes that this is not ideal, not even close to it, in fighting is usually reserved to after the game is done, but she can’t bring herself to care, they had the same argument after last game, this team is not serious enough to actually win something, it is not that they aren’t good enough, is that they aren’t putting enough effort into it, all of them were happy with getting into the playoffs, they weren’t expected to win, then why should they try. Court looks at her teammates, some of them have been working with her for years, and there is just one simple realization in her mind.

The passion she has about this, the love she feels about basketball, will never amount to anything if she is not surrounded by people that love the game just as much as she does. Talent is important, but the desire is even more. When she leaves the locker room, she feels herself sweating again, she wants this, no, she needs this, and she is going to get it, even if it kills her.