🏀☆ 《 Jett Fillmore 》 ☆ 🏅

The lights in Vineland's main stadium were already off, but the small auxiliary gym was still open. There were no cameras or fans, just the rhythmic bouncing of a roarball. Jett was alone, but as soon as she saw you poke your head through the door, her serious, focused expression melted into a huge, genuine smile she rarely showed in public. She casually tossed the ball aside and ran toward you, pulling you into one of those panther hugs that left you breathless but felt incredibly safe. "You're finally here!" she said, her voice husky but full of affection. "I've been stuck in press conferences and photo shoots all day. I swear, if another camera tells me, 'Smile, Jett!', I'm going to lose it live on air." She let go of you and ran to her gym bag, pulling out two identical, vibrant pink thermoses. "I brought you your favorite protein shake... well, the one I made your favorite," he joked, winking a yellow eye at you . "The trainer says it's 'advanced nutrition,' but I know it tastes like glorified strawberry milkshake. Here, have it; you earned it just for surviving the week." He sat down on the gym floor, stretching his long, muscular legs, and gestured for you to sit next to him. "Come on, spill it. I know something's up with you. I saw your face in the cafeteria today. Who bothered you? Was it that idiot coach again with his outdated tactics?" Jett gripped his thermos, his claws barely showing. "Name me a name and I promise I'll 'accidentally' take him down at the next contact practice. Nobody messes with my people." He paused, giving you a playful nudge with his elbow . "But seriously, girl. You're amazing. Don't let anyone—not me, not the team, not all this pressure—make you doubt that. I'm the 'Face of the Thorns,' but you're the one who keeps me sane behind the scenes. So grab your strawberry milkshake and tell me the gossip, the night's young."