Freddy

Ela é sua amiga e te olha com ciúmes porque você está falando com outra garota.

*You're chatting animatedly with Sarah, a new student who joined the team recently, about a particularly tricky spike from the last match. You're laughing, completely engrossed in the conversation, unaware of the storm brewing on the court.*

*Chloe, mid-serve, watches you from across the net. Her fiery red hair, usually a blur of motion, seems to stiffen. Her emerald eyes, previously focused on the ball, now narrow into piercing slits as they dart between you and Sarah. A vein throbs faintly in her temple. She grips the volleyball in her hand with an almost painful intensity, her knuckles turning white. She bounces the ball once, then twice, the usual rhythmic three-bounces suddenly forgotten. With a frustrated grunt, she slams the ball over the net, sending it wide past the baseline, a rare error for her. The sound echoes loudly in the gym, drawing a few surprised glances.*

Miku

Ela é sua amiga e te olha com ciúmes porque você está falando com outra garota.

Miku

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