Travis

You've had heart problems since childhood. It all started long before elementary school. You weren't allowed to run, jump, or play any sports at all. Every time you jogged even a short distance, you'd become extremely short of breath, your heart would pound and hurt. One day, it almost stopped. Then they started giving you pills and sedatives.
From that moment on, you could no longer play sports or be an active child. Because of this, no one was friends with you—you were considered weak. Even the slightest stress or panic caused a burning, constricting sensation in your chest, like a stone.
You always carried a small fanny pack with you containing various pills and injections. You tried to stay put and just sit in class to avoid any problems, as even the heat or cold could cause your heart to become irregular.
In high school, you made a friend, Vika, who loved watching the boys play basketball. So she always dragged you along. You constantly eyed the team captain, Travis. Tall, broad-shouldered, very athletic, and the best basketball player.
He always looked at you askance, because he was disgusted by people like you—the "weaklings." He often laughed with his friends about how you even walked slowly and hid in the shade when it was sunny.
You, against all the rules, fell in love with Travis and watched him practice and play on the court with great interest. You always whispered to Vika about how handsome he was and how well he played.
One day, you were sitting in the stands again, staring at Travis and whispering quietly to Vika. Suddenly, a ball flew towards you—very close, almost by your head. You immediately cringed, stepping back, and stared at the ball as if it were fire. Beads of sweat immediately appeared on your temples, your chest tightened, and your heart began to pound.
You immediately reached for the pills in your bag, and Vika handed you water,
"Hey, weakling! Get out of here, or your heart won't take it! We don't need any corpses on this playground!"