Dayo arrived at the aquatic center early in the morning, gym bag hanging from his shoulder, headphones around his neck. The place was already buzzing — athletes stretching, warming up, talking with coaches, and officials moving around with clipboards.

He wasn't nervous. Just focused.

Well… that was a lie.

He was a bit nervous. After all, this wasn't just any nationals — this was THE NATIONALS, held by the U.S itself. It was a huge deal. But he took a deep breath and muttered under his breath:

"Let's do this."

As he walked in, a few swimmers turned and smiled.

"Yo, Dayo!"

"You made it!"

"Man, it's been a minute!"

He recognized most of them — people he had met during the California competition. They shook hands, hugged lightly, laughed a bit. It felt good seeing familiar faces, but there were also a lot of new ones. Older guys who had competed in the previous Olympics. Experienced swimmers who carried themselves with the ease of people who had been here for years.

And then he saw a familiar face.

George Millar.

The man who changed his life.

George had been one of the fastest 50m swimmers in America before he retired. He was also the one who gave Richard — Dayo's now-coach — Dayo's number not long ago, because after swimming with Dayo and finding out the boy had never received professional training, he knew Dayo had something special. That decision brought Dayo all the way here.

George smiled immediately when Dayo approached.

"Look at you," George said, patting his shoulder. "Bro… you grew into the monster I said you would be."

Dayo laughed. "You're the one who pushed me into all this. Don't act surprised."

George shook his head. "Nah. You did the work. I just passed you to the right person."

Before they could talk more, another voice joined in.

"You're the one everybody's talking about now."

Dayo turned and saw Evan Blake, one of the top current sprinters and an Olympic finalist four years ago. He was tall, lean, confident — from his look alone one would know he didn't need to brag to prove he was good. And he had already proved it in the last Olympics.

Evan waved at George.

"Yoo, old man, it's been a minute."

George smirked. "Me? Old? You've grown balls now eh, Evan?"

Evan smiled.

"Haha, of course you're old. If not, why don't you jump in the pool? Let's find out."

Dayo tried to keep a straight face as Evan and George bantered.

"Oh now you have the guts to say that? Need I remind you how you cried after I whooped your ass continuously before leaving the swimming world?" George smirked.

A small crack appeared on Evan's smile — and George and Dayo noticed it instantly. They couldn't hold it anymore—

They burst into heavy laughter. Evan had no choice but to join.

Evan hugged George. "I miss you, bro."

"Yeah, I can see that," George replied, hugging him back.

Evan turned toward Dayo and said,

"They're saying you're the fastest 50m guy in the country now."

Dayo shrugged. "I just swim, man. And from what I've heard, you're the fastest, not me."

"Really?" Evan smiled. "Well, we'll see about that."

The three laughed a little before moving on.

The place became busier. Warm-ups were starting soon. But Dayo could feel it — the focus, the pressure, the expectation.

This Nationals wasn't like the one he competed in back in California.

This was bigger.

Louder.

More serious.

The real gateway to the Olympic team.

---

Dayo checked his schedule briefly before heading to stretch. His coach, Richard, met him halfway.

"Stay sharp," Richard said. "Remember what I told you."

Dayo nodded. "You think I can try the 100m too?"

Richard didn't even pause.

"No."

Dayo laughed lightly. "Coach—"

"Dayo," Richard cut him off. "Focus. The 50m is your world for now. One storm at a time. Maybe you can try that after this year ends. And need I remind you that you're not a full-time swimmer?"

"Alright," Dayo sighed. "I hear you."

Richard hit his shoulder playfully. "You better. Just stay focused and bag this race."

---

DAY ONE – HEATS

Dayo stepped on the blocks.

Gun fired.

And he dove in almost instantly. The difference was immediately clear in his reaction speed and technique. Dayo was improving — and improving fast.

He won. Clean. Sharp. No surprise.

Alex won his heat too — fast, but tense.

The third guy, Evan Blake, the Olympic finalist, destroyed his own heat, leaving everyone behind.

The next draw came out — and Evan, Alex, and Dayo were all placed in separate groups again.

People already understood what the organizers were doing —

keeping the three of them apart

so they wouldn't face each other until the finals.

Nobody complained.

It made sense.

They were the big three of this event.

---

DAY TWO – SEMI-HEATS

Same energy.

Same pressure.

Dayo finished first again — by a clear distance.

Alex finished first too, looking more composed, but anyone who paid close attention would notice his chest rising too fast… faster than normal.

Evan also finished with a crazy time that made a few swimmers whisper, "Damn."

The rumor spread fast:

The final is going to be insane.

Dayo vs Alex vs Evan.

Everyone could feel it. The tension was rising and the pressure was thick.

---

DAY THREE – FINAL ARRANGEMENTS

After training and recovery, Dayo was sitting with a few athletes he had met earlier. Someone said loudly:

"Bro, the organizers are clearly separating Dayo, Alex, and Evan."

Another replied, "They want all three in the finals. It's good for the crowd."

"You think Dayo is winning this?"

"Pfft. He's the one with the fastest time right now."

"Alex is hungry though — look at him."

"Evan is more experienced and more stable."

"This final… bro…"

Dayo didn't respond. He just listened quietly.

He wasn't scared.

He wasn't overconfident either.

He was simply ready.

This was why he trained.

This was why he suffered.

Regardless of how many people doubted him… he was ready.

And the crowd and media were shocked — JD, the superstar, actually qualified for the National finals.

And now… everyone knew.

He zipped his bag slowly and looked toward the massive pool.

Tomorrow was the finals.

And everything was about to get real.

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