Running to You | Park Han + JL + Steven | Haneulz + Stejay AU

Chapter 61: Ghost in the Hallway

They didn't notice right away when JL slipped off the track.

At first, it looked normal, just another cool-down exit, spikes in hand, towel loose around his neck. Han clocked it instantly. So did Steven. They exchanged a glance, brief but weighted, and peeled off quietly behind him.

The rest of the team lingered in the stands, still riding the high of the heats. Juwon was halfway through a bag of peanut puffs. Shuaibo had one sock off. Woongki was scrolling through social media and narrating tweets aloud. But then Jeongwoo frowned.

"Wait," he said, looking around. "Where's JL?"

"Locker room, probably," Kyungho said. "He just ran."

The rest of the team filtered in behind them, still buzzing. Replay-arguing over time splits, talking trash about rival schools, already halfway into recovery mode. Their events were done. 

At first, no one noticed. Then Woongki paused mid-rant about someone's illegal socks and tilted his head.

JL was sitting on the bench. Not stretching. His towel hung too low over his eyes. His water bottle sat untouched in his hand. Steven was beside him. Han nearby. Neither said a word.

Before Woongki could open his mouth to ask, Eli Gaspar walked in. 

* * *

Eli Gaspar. Once the fastest man in Southeast Asia, now a branded face with millions of followers and a sponsorship deal so big it had its own PR team, he strolled in like the hallway belonged to him. 

His gait was smooth. His presence heavy. The KNSU team froze one by one.

JL didn't look up. 

Eli stopped in front of him. 

"Hello, slowpoke." the derogatory nickname only Eli used. 

JL sat, eyes hooded.

"Heard you wiped out at Filipino Nationals after I left." he said, voice low, measured.

JL's throat closed.

"All that media buzz, then you tanked. They called you a fraud."

A pause.

"Should've seen that coming. You always needed someone pushing you to hit your limits. Otherwise..."

He looked him up and down -- once, like it was enough.

"...You go soft."

Steven shifted next to JL. Close. Tense.

Han was already stepping forward.

Eli didn't look at them.

"I'm back now," he said to JL, like it was fact. He glanced around, at the hall, the team, the track gear.

"You don't need a dinky scholarship and a bunch of pity hugs from overworked teammates. You need structure. Training. Visibility."

He tilted his head.

"Come with me. We'll get you back to what you were supposed to be."

JL didn't move.

Didn't speak.

So Eli gave a little shrug , like this wasn't a negotiation. Just a matter of time.

"Think about it."

Then he was gone, footsteps echoing down the corridor.

The team watched him leave. Then the hallway exploded.

"Was that really him?" Juwon muttered. "I thought he'd be taller. Or, I don't know... less punchable."

"He looks like a villain from a Netflix drama," Woongki said, stretching his hamstrings. "Season one villain, though. Definitely not endgame material."

"I could fold him," Kyungho said calmly from the corner, cracking his knuckles. "Bench press him into a human pretzel."

"Respectfully," Shuaibo added. "I think we should slash his tires. Respectfully."

"No need," Chih En said without looking up. "I already memorized his license plate. Just in case."

Jeongwoo frowned. "In case of what?"

"Inspiration."

JL didn't speak.

Not because he didn't have anything to say. He did. He had everything to say. But all the words were crowding each other in the back of his throat. His fingers were still clenched around his water bottle, whitening at the knuckles. One of the ridges popped under the pressure, and the plastic gave out with a soft crack. He didn't notice.

The rest of the team did, though -- not the bottle, exactly, but the silence. The kind that shouldn't have lasted this long.

Normally, after a race, JL said something. He smirked, he stretched, he made a joke about how Steven ran like he was chasing a tax evader.

But now, JL sat on the edge of the bench and watched the floor.

It was a stupid thing to do, really -- stare at tile. There was nothing there. Just a thin gray line between two mismatched squares.

But he couldn't stop looking.

Because the second he looked up, he might accidentally feel something.

And feeling something... anything... felt dangerous right now.