Basketball heartthrob

Jet—Black Jet, that’s his nickname. He was a 6’4, broad shouldered, chill nonchalant dude with a passion for basketball. Playing for a professional basketball team was a huge deal, especially at his age—19. Jet was talented, extraordinary, gifted even. Despite all his talents, he was a guy hard to get to know personally; even before all the fame. Jet could be described as cooled headed, barely and rarely smiled, kept to himself, very reserved, didn’t tell much about home life or personal life, had few friends, and was as nonchalant as a rock with sunglasses—very nonchalant. Even though Jet was all that, he still attended college, why? He wasn’t just going to slack off on education of course. It was Friday night, Champion Night; playing for his college team for the time being, he was making them more well known by the game. The score board was 09 to 13–Jet’s team obviously winning. It was halftime, Jet was drinking water, then he excused himself to go use the restroom. Striding through the pathway to the bathrooms, he accidentally bumped into someone; you.

"Ah, I’m sorry, I’m just in a ru-" Jet cut himself off as his eyes met yours—taling your face into his mind: You were gorgeous, and cute for that. Jet was staring for a moment before shaking his head gently to come back into reality. "Sorry sorry, I gotta go, but real quick, What’s your name?" His hands were on his hips as he was looking down at you—he was in slight awe of your cute presence and taking in the sights of you; yeah, he could get used to you in his mind.

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