During the tryout period, Jason Wright's flings came and went like clockwork.
Some comments quipped, "Bro, isn't your girlfriend gonna flip?"
He replied, "I hung in there for a year—what am I, a charity case?"
I showed up at the birthday bash as expected. He figured I'd learned my lesson, so he flaunted his childhood sweetheart, making a show of it in front of the guys.
"Into her? She's keeping her virgin act and we're living apart. Who'd put up with that? Depends if she plays nice."
But he didn't know I was there just to end things.
Later, I made it to the top of the world, just as I'd hoped, and he regretted it.
I finally got Jason's contact. He texted me his location, telling me to come over.
The message took me by surprise.
Cloudbrook Heights, the swankiest spot in Arlington City.
He'd never mentioned that before.
Today's his birthday, but we'd fallen out a month back over his state badminton team tryout.
"Grace, even if I'm getting engaged today, you wouldn't show, right?"
"Sorry, I'm starting; I can't back out—"
"A stupid game over me?"
Those were his last words to me.
Summer rains are quick, and I was drenched stepping out of the car.
Security blocked me, so I called Jason.
He replied coolly, "Got it."
Background noise mingled with music and laughter.
Then the lobby phone rang.
"Yep, letting her in now."
He handed me a beat-up umbrella, missing the neat row of new ones stashed in the back room.
The downpour made the twenty-minute walk feel like an eternity.
I remembered Jason's harsh words in a spat.
"Grace, you're 19. Others have conquered the world at your age. What's your end game? Why can't you be with me? What do you want that I can't give?"
Back then, I thought he was just mad, but he truly looked down on me.
During the team selections, his new squeezes rotated in and out.
Some comments quipped, "Bro, isn't your girlfriend gonna flip?"
He retorted, "I waited a year, and she didn't care. Why should I? Am I running a charity?"
Perhaps I was always a joke to him.
My dedication was laughable. I'd been hitting shuttles since I was five, fourteen years of sweat, and still no spot on the state team.
I was nothing next to what he had.
"Miss, who are you here for?"
The door swung open, revealing a chic crowd in the lobby.
I stashed my umbrella outside and said, "Hello, everyone, I'm here for Jason Wright."
"Check out her umbrella, how gauche."
"You don't get it. The height of gauche is being on trend."
They pretended not to hear me.
That's when I realized the security were in on it.
I should've known better that they always thought less of me.
They'd been hostile ever since Jason and I argued.
"I'm here for Jason."
"Are you a parrot? Hilarious." A girl with mini skirt and bouncy curls scoffed.
"Olivia, really?" A guy glanced my way. "Sorry, she's blunt, but we all just mess around here. No offense."
They apologized, but their words rang hollow.
"Heard you're an athlete. On the national team? Or are you a world champ? What's your ranking lately?"
"Jason's a trip, huh? Didn't even bother to come get you in this downpour. Where's he at?"
"He's upstairs in the billiard room, schooling Ava. Why head up and ruin their fun?" The curly-haired girl blared, eyeing me scornfully. "Oh, you didn't know? They're almost engaged."
I stayed silent.
The crowd seemed to relish the drama, likely hoping I'd break down.
But I was here for one reason only.
"Please, ask Jason down."
"And you are?" The curly-haired girl sneered, and I felt a sharp sting on my right cheek.
A sudden slap silenced the room.
No one intervened.
Her smug expression said it all, "You're just a nobody, and you think you can land Jason? Didn't you know he's practically engaged to Ava? They are a perfect match, out of you badminton players' league!"
But I hit back.
"Olivia, you okay?"
She staggered back, stunned into silence.
Another figure hurried down, her corseted dress making her seem ethereal.
"Grace, what the hell?!"
I looked up to see Jason, fuming behind her.
Chapter 2"Nobody taught you manners, or are you just lashing out 'cause I didn't come get you?"
I just stared at Jason, speechless. A thousand comebacks raced through my mind, but all I could really feel was disappointment.
"Yeah, no one taught me. My parents are gone, remember?" My eyes welled up.
He frowned and ordered, "Apologize."
It felt like he was ripping open my old wounds.
But he didn't care; he just wanted that apology.
"She started it, why should I apologize?"
Suddenly, my throat tightened, and my voice began to crack.
"Grace, you know which part of you bugs me the most? You're always so damn self-righteous and proud," Jason snapped, his displeasure clear.
His gaze told me this was his turf, they were his guests, and I was a nobody.
Leaving me to fend for myself, letting them tear me down, all with his silent approval.
Even though I'd figured it all out, my heart still ached.
Back then, he did seem really sweet, like he laid everything out for me.
When did it change? Maybe when I refused to quit my career, or when his old flame came back to the States.
"Okay, girls get shy, she didn't mean it. Ease up, Jason," a girl said, grabbing his hand affectionately.
He didn't pull away.
That's Ava Taylor, Jason's old flame.
Whenever Jason and I were together, she'd call right on cue, and they'd chat forever.
"Olivia, you messed up too, apologize to her, quick."
"No need," I flatly refused.
She stood there, looking all sad like a hurt kitten.
Jason's buddies couldn't stand it anymore, "C'mon, Jason, it's your birthday. We were just messing around. She can't take a joke, huh? Ava tried to smooth things over, but no thanks from her. Olivia's fiery, but she's no athlete. A bit more force, and she'd be in the hospital, right?"
Everyone's stares were like a clear warning—don't be ungrateful.
Including Jason.
"Grace, you crossed the line."
"Then it's done. Let's break up," I said, meeting Jason's gaze without flinching.
He paused, then frowned, "Are you serious?"
"Did I hear that right? She wants to dump our boy Jason?" Laughter erupted from downstairs.
Jason's face soured.
They kept at it, "Jason, you're not really into this hick, are ya?"
"Cut it out, how does she stack up to our Ava?" Olivia looked like she was about to slap me.
Ava's eyes welled up, "Jason..."
"Me, into her?" Jason then pulled Ava into his arms, "She's been putting on the virgin act and living a thousand miles from me. Who'd stand that? Only 'cause she's tame, who'd want someone from such a backwater?"
I lowered my gaze, clinging to my last shred of dignity, "Then please, Mr. Wright, find time to terminate our contract, and let's part ways."
"You know the drill. You know the club's breakup fee is two million. Not much, but you can't even scrounge up half a million right now. Grace, think about it. Without my connections, without any backing, you're nothing."
He wasn't even apologetic after I called him out.
I should've seen this coming.
The new head of my current club, Radiant Wings, is him, the scion of the Wright family.
Including the fact that I got squeezed out this time because of him.
"Since I chose to come here today, I'll never regret it."
He knew better than anyone why I wasn't fit for those events.
He thought his disdain would make me beg, but he was dead wrong.
"I hope you can stay as tough as you claim," Jason sneered.
Everyone laughed at me.
"Jason, you took advantage of me when I was naive," I squeezed my hand hard, "In three days, I'll wire the penalty into your account, I hope you'll keep your word."
Jason's expression darkened instantly, "Grace, do you really want to make a scene? Apologize, and I can let today slide. I can forgive what happened."
I walked into the rain without a backward glance.
"Jason, you just gonna let her walk?"
"Who does she think she is? I'm waiting for the day she comes crawling back."
...
"Does what you said before still stand?" After leaving Cloudbrook Heights, I texted that person.
Ten minutes later, I got a reply.
"It stands."
"I need two million."
"Okay, sign for a year. I want to see your worth."
Chapter 36
When I was 6, I had a car crash and had to take a year off from school to recover, missing out on the chance to join the national youth team.
My parents died in that crash, and my family ended up paying a fortune in damages.
I met Jason Wright when I was at my lowest.
From 17 to 18, he filled the emptiest part of my life, supported me, and helped me rebuild my confidence.
After my leg injury healed, I signed with Radiant Wings based on my past performance and started competing in commercial tournaments, training and earning simultaneously.
I thought everything was finally looking up.
I didn't expect to hit a dead end so soon.
Three days later, I paid the penalty as agreed.
When I was packing to head to the capital, Jason blocked me at the school gate, furious.
"Grace Miller, I didn't agree to terminate the contract, how dare you!"
Thinking about it now, it's laughable. We dated for a year, and he hid his real identity while offering me training opportunities yet holding me back.
I once told him, "Jason, badminton is all I know."
He'd joke, "I'll support you in the future."
But during a fight, he snapped, "Is badminton all you have? Haven't you thought about what I need?"
I didn't get it back then.
But now I do.
"Jason, I'm not your pet. I won't come and go as you please. You have no right to dictate my life. We're done."
"Done?" Jason scoffed, "Grace, do you know I fought with my family over you?"
"So that's why you lied and manipulated me?" I brushed his hand off, incredulous.
"What more do you want?! Can't you just obey?"
I grabbed my bags, done with the drama.
But he grabbed my arm and yelled, "Tell me, where did you get two million? Did you sleep with someone?!"
I struggled free and slapped him, "Do you think everyone's as corrupt as you?"
He sneered, "If you leave, I'm engaged with Ava, no regrets."
"Get in the car, Miss Miller." The driver came over and stowed my luggage.
As the car window closed, I saw Jason's grim face in the distance.
"Are you going to Badminton Premier League in March?" A deep voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up, and he was closing a document, looking at me intently.
He had striking features, sharp eyes, and carried himself with an air of elegance and authority.
The annual cover star of "Real" is Lucas Wilson, heir to a vast business empire and a top mogul in various industries, only thirty years old.
But his real passion is sports.
"I remember you haven't competed in the past two years. How's your leg?"
I was taken aback, "It's fine now."
Talent and excellence are never in short supply in this industry.
From being in the spotlight to being overlooked, I was surprised he still remembered me.
Three years ago, he handed me a business card after I easily won the American U17 women's singles final.
I still remember the name "Dawnstar" on it—a top club known to everyone.
Because I was facing selections for the national team later, among other reasons, I declined.
"The talent is there, but you're not quite ready."
I remember that line well.
Before he left, he said, "Whenever you're ready, you can reach out to me."
His look seemed to say I'd definitely seek him out.
Three years later, he still looked the same.
And facing him felt just as intense as before, like the pressure was something he was born with.
"It's the off-season now, so there will be a lot of active players, but for now, you can only enter C-level."
"I'll go."
"Good," he said calmly, anticipating my choice, "Warm up and boost your points this year."
After a pause, I finally asked, "Why... do you believe in me so much?"
"I'm always good at judging people."
Confident and decisive.
When you're under a cloud, hearing someone say you can still rise up, see clearly, and keep moving forward can be overwhelmingly reassuring.
In that moment, I almost cried from relief.