Between The Lines! (not complete)

part 8

I didn't mean to stop.

The TV in the student center was supposed to be background noise-sports highlights, people passing by, nothing important. I was halfway across the room with my backpack slung over one shoulder when I heard his name.

"-Cooper, projected first-round pick-"

My feet slowed.

Then stopped.

I turned just as his face filled the screen.

Cooper sat under bright studio lights, calm and composed in a tailored suit, answering questions like he'd been doing it his entire life. The ticker at the bottom flashed stats and headlines like they were permanent parts of him.

LEGACY. LEADERSHIP. PRESSURE.

Girls around me whispered. Someone laughed softly. A guy muttered, "That's him."

I crossed my arms without realizing it.

He looked... distant. Polished. Untouchable.

And for a moment, I wondered what it felt like to have the world already convinced you were destined for greatness.

"What drives you?" the interviewer asked.

Cooper paused.

"Consistency," he said. "Knowing nothing worth having is handed to you."

My chest tightened.

I knew that answer wasn't meant for the camera.

The segment ended to applause, and just like that, he was gone-replaced by commercials and chatter. I stood there longer than necessary, staring at my reflection in the blank screen.

Different worlds, Zaliyah. Remember that.

⸻

I didn't expect to see him afterward.

I was leaving the library later that evening, job paperwork tucked neatly in my folder, when a familiar voice stopped me near the entrance.

"Hey."

I turned.

Cooper stood there, hoodie on this time, no cameras, no spotlight-just him.

"I saw you on TV," I said before I could stop myself.

A corner of his mouth lifted. "Yeah?"

"You looked... comfortable."

He exhaled quietly. "That's one word for it."

We stood there, the automatic doors sliding open and shut behind us, people passing without paying us any attention.

"You didn't look surprised," he added.

"I wasn't," I said. "It fits your world."

Something shifted in his expression-not defensive, not offended. Thoughtful.

"Does it?" he asked.

I shrugged. "You don't have to worry about interviews going right. People already believe in you."

His jaw tightened slightly. "That's not the same as not worrying."

I met his eyes. "Maybe not. But it's different."

He nodded once. "Yeah. It is."

Silence settled-not awkward, just honest.

He hesitated, then spoke. "Seeing you work for something... it puts things in perspective."

I tilted my head. "Like what?"

"That I don't want to take anything for granted," he said. "Especially not people."

My heart skipped.

I didn't let it show.

"Well," I said, adjusting my bag, "I should get going."

He stepped back, giving me space like he always did. "Good luck at work."

"Good luck with... all of that," I gestured vaguely toward the invisible cameras.

He smiled-not the confident one everyone saw, but something quieter.

As I walked away, I felt it again-that pull I didn't want to acknowledge.

Cooper wasn't just a face on a screen.

And that realization scared me more than anything else.