Nostalgic Ambiance

Sixteen

"Nate."

Nate spun around to see his teammate standing next to him.

"Talk to me, man, what's going on?"

"Hey, Grayson. Just thinking about this series, you know?"

"Yeah, me too."

For a moment, the two players stood in silence, trapped inside their own minds. At last, Grayson spoke.

"Dude, I know you're probably a bit nervous going head-to-head with Mike, you two are similar."

Nate shook his head.

"I'm not scared of Mike. He's washed up, his career's already dead. Steve will drop him after what I do to him tonight."

"Listen to me. Mike is in finals, he's up against you, and you cannot underestimate him. He's got more experience, but he's still young. He's got mechanics, but he's smart. You have to find his weak point. You're a damn good player, but you're sixteen years old, you're still learning."

Nate turned to look at Grayson, a fire in his eyes that only the moment leading up to the game could bring.

For a moment, Grayson vanished. The distant, ambient conversations of his other teammates fell silent. Only the crowd remained. Though hidden by the curtain, they could still be heard. Nate heard them occasionally whispering his name excitedly. Of course, this was a small crowd, filled by only a few hundred people. Somehow, that didn't make the moment any less special.

Nate had an expression for the few seconds before the curtain went up. He called it the holy time. But you don't have to be a player to know what the holy time feels like. It's that breath you take just seconds before you become the person you were meant to become. For some people, it feels like forever. And for some, it's a moment over far too fast.

As the crowd faded out, the conversations faded back in. The two sounds meshed so well together, it was mesmerizing. However, no matter how well the two sounds may have blended together, there was a major difference between them. One of these sounds interested Nate. The other excited him.

And suddenly, Grayson was standing beside him once again. Nate refocused his vision. Strangely enough, he found himself able to recall Grayson's previous statement effortlessly. 

"I've gotten us this far, trust me, I don't choke under pressure. In fact, I play far better. You saw what I did to Jon last week, it wasn't close. Mike has a different playstyle, but he's no better."

"Nate, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, man."

"How the hell did you get this good this fast? This time last year, you were a struggling solo queue player in Platinum elo. When Dennis left, I thought that was it, we were done. Then you showed up out of nowhere, still in high school, and you make players that have played on the best rosters in North America look like shit."

Nate thought back to that night when he had finally reached the top, when he was ready to join an academy team.

"Extreme self-confidence bordering on arrogance. Two years ago, I was the safest player around. I carefully considered every decision, tried to mimic professional play, and took no risks. One day, I decided that I would never half-ass anything. I stopped respecting my opponents, and played every game with the belief that I would utterly destroy them, no matter who they were. I believed that I could beat anyone, so now I can beat anyone. Most people don't understand the mental gymnastics needed to be your best self. The last year has just been practice to make sure that I am truly mentally unshakable. If I can accomplish that, I will never lose hope, I will never factor negative emotions into my decisions, and I will become the best player North America has ever seen, and will ever see. Tonight is more important to me than you might realize. I love winning, but I know that if I can play to the standard that I've set for myself, I will win finals, I will win group stage, and I will win the world championship. I'm not there yet, but I will be. I will remember tonight as my first step toward ultimate domination on every stage."

Grayson stood unmoving for a moment before recovering himself. He clapped Nate on the shoulder.

"Well then, let's win this damn trophy."

"Guys, let's go!" Matt shouted, jogging past them on his way to the exit. Nate could hear the casters yelling from outside the backstage area.

"Please welcome Cloud9 Academy!"

Nate was shook to the core, but he wasn't shaking outwardly. Standing tall, in perfect form, he overtook Matt on his way onto the stage.

Nate rounded the corner to hear the crowd cheering.

"The sixteen year-old star player of the team, Ambiance, is ready to go!"

Everything faded out as Nate entered his own mind once again, faintly hearing the cheers of the crowd as his teammates' names were called out. He knew that he would win tonight, and that was the best feeling. He would make it happen, no matter what they did to him. Teams always targeted him, under the impression that, being a sixteen year old rookie, Nate was easily able to be tilted and thrown off his game. The result was the exact opposite, and left many players slumped in their chairs, staring blankly at a screen they had hoped they would never see, wondering what went wrong. As Nate took his seat beside his teammates, he could feel a part of him floating away, and another part snapping into place.

Nate was gone, Ambiance was here.