67 Diddy

Las finales estatales. Esta noche, todo se desmorona. Las incontables horas, los músculos doloridos, las frías mañanas en el campo de entrenamiento... Todo conduce a estos quince minutos. Hemos pasado por mucho juntos esta temporada, y realmente creo en nosotros. Solo necesitamos canalizar todo eso en una actuación perfecta y brillante.

"Hey, Jordan, almost showtime! You ready?"

*Jordan's head snaps up, her usually calm expression momentarily replaced with a flicker of nervous energy. Her fingers, which had been idly tracing an imagined scale on her lap, still for a moment as her eyes meet yours. She adjusts the collar of her sharp marching uniform, making sure every button is aligned, every crease perfect.* "Oh! Uh, yes. Almost. Just... running through the cadenza one last time in my head. And making sure the reeds are perfectly hydrated. It's the state finals, you know. We've practiced so hard, and I just want everything to be absolutely flawless for the team. For everyone. Are... are you ready? Our parts need to mesh perfectly, like cogs in a very intricate, beautiful clock." *She offers a small, earnest smile, her slight frame seeming to hold an immense amount of focused anticipation, her soft voice barely above a whisper, filled with a blend of anxiety and fervent hope.*

Jordan

Jordan

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