The gym was quieter than usual.
Not because the crowd wasn't there—it was. Packed. Loud. Buzzing. But something in the air felt different. Like the team was holding its breath.
Three games into the season, UCLA was undefeated, riding high off two tough, gritty wins. Ryan stood courtside with Coach Reilly, clipboard in hand, already eyeing the opposing team's warm-up.
"They're fast," Ryan said, narrowing his eyes. "Not just fast—controlled."
Coach Reilly nodded. "They've got four returning starters from last year. Disciplined. We'll need to outsmart them."
Ryan flipped to his notes. "Watch number eleven. He doesn't force anything, but when he does attack… it's lethal."
Jordan walked by, bumping fists with Ryan. "We ready?"
"As we'll ever be," Ryan said.
First Half: Cold Start
Tip-off. The Wolves lost the jump, and it set the tone for the half.
The opponent, Crestwood College, was relentless. They didn't blow the game open—they just chipped away, one possession at a time. Smart plays. Unselfish passing. Mid-range shots that felt old school but were deadly efficient.
Jordan missed two early threes.
Leo got into foul trouble halfway through the first quarter.
Tyler turned it over on back-to-back possessions.
The Wolves fell behind by 10 by the time Ryan looked up at the scoreboard again.
"Relax," Ryan said during a timeout, gathering the players. "We're not gonna win this in one play. Stay in system. Move the ball. You're forcing shots."
The players nodded, but the energy felt off. Shaky. Frustrated.
They fought back—Jordan hit a buzzer-beating three to close the gap to six at halftime—but Ryan could see it in their eyes. They were chasing the game, not controlling it.
Halftime: Honest Talk
The locker room was tense.
Coach Reilly let the silence sit for a moment. Then he spoke.
"You know what they're doing that we're not?" he asked. "They're staying calm. Composed. They're playing as a unit."
He looked around the room. "We're better than this when we trust each other."
Ryan stepped forward.
"We've trained for pressure," he said. "So let's act like it. This isn't the end of the world, but it can be the end of this game if we don't get our heads right."
Jordan nodded. "Let's go out and punch first this time."
Second Half: Running Uphill
Third quarter started, and UCLA came out with fire. A couple of steals, a fast break dunk from Tyler, and suddenly they were within two.
But Crestwood answered every surge.
Their point guard controlled the tempo like a maestro, weaving through defenders and finding open teammates in the corner.
UCLA had energy, but no rhythm.
Timeout.
"Switch the defense," Ryan suggested. "Go zone. Pack the paint, make them beat us from deep."
Reilly agreed.
It slowed Crestwood… for a while. But the open looks eventually fell. With five minutes left in the fourth, the Wolves were down seven.
Then five.
Then three.
With one minute left, down by three, Jordan drove hard and kicked it to the corner. Leo shot the three—
Missed.
Rebound Crestwood.
They held the ball, killed the clock, and iced two free throws.
Final score: Crestwood 72, UCLA 67.
Postgame Silence
Back in the locker room, no music played.
No one spoke.
Tyler sat with his head in his hands. Leo leaned back, chewing on his mouthguard. Jordan stared at the floor.
Ryan broke the silence.
"This one hurts," he said. "Because we wanted it. Because we know we're better."
He looked around at the team. "And that's okay."
They looked up.
"Losing doesn't mean we're not good. It means we weren't good enough today. And that's something we can fix."
Coach Reilly added, "We'll watch the tape. We'll adjust. But this loss? It's part of the process."
The players slowly nodded.
Jordan finally spoke. "We'll bounce back."
Ryan smiled. "Yeah. We will."
Later That Night: Ivy and Insight
The campus was quiet when Ryan walked across the quad, still in his team gear, backpack slung over his shoulder. His phone buzzed.
Ivy:You outside?
He looked up to see her waiting by the fountain.
"You always know where I am," he said, walking over.
"I'm spooky like that," she smiled, then softened. "Tough game."
Ryan sighed. "Yeah. We just… didn't have it tonight."
"You still coached the hell out of it," she said. "And you're three games into your first season. Not everything has to be perfect."
He sat beside her. "I just hate watching them feel like that. Like they gave everything and still came up short."
"Maybe that's why you're the right coach," she said. "Because you care like that."
He looked at her.
"I mean it," she said. "This loss? It won't define them. And it definitely doesn't define you."
Ryan leaned back, taking in the stars over L.A. The city buzzed beyond the trees, a million lives moving at once.
This was only game three.
And the story was just beginning.