"Anytime, Cupcake. Anytime."

~•~

The next day began like any other—a sunny morning over Paris and quiet streets as the city slowly woke up to its daily rhythm. Willa, as usual, got up early and prepared for another training session. The few days left before the competition were quickly slipping away, and she knew that every day, every minute spent preparing was incredibly important.

There was a strange mix of excitement and nervousness in the air that hovered over the entire Olympic team. Every athlete had their own ritual, their own way of coping with the pressure of the upcoming competition. For Willa, the escape was training—intense training that often had little to do with javelin throwing. Her pre-competition workouts often consisted of several kilometers of running and plenty of push-ups and burpees. Maybe the push-ups and burpees helped, but running? It was useless for javelin throwing. Yet when she ran, she felt free; her thoughts became clear, and her body responded exactly as it had been taught after years of hard work.

When she arrived at the training center, several of her colleagues were already there, preparing for their own sessions. Willa stretched, put on her headphones, and took a deep breath. Today, she wanted to take it seriously, focusing on speed and technique. She needed everything to click—and click perfectly.

Once she started running on the track, her world shrank to the steady rhythm of her steps and breath. It was as if all the problems and worries she had with Miles melted away into the distance. Here on the track, all that mattered was performance, speed, and the goal ahead.

The training went smoothly. Her body felt strong, each step was precise, and her breathing was steady. Willa picked up the pace and felt the blood pumping through her body. This was exactly what she needed—to clear her mind a bit and let the physical exertion calm her thoughts.

After finishing the first session, which lasted longer than planned, she collapsed, exhausted, onto a bench by the track. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her muscles burned pleasantly. That was the first workout of the day, just running, but after lunch, she would return for her javelin training, which she also needed if she wanted to win. She took a long sip of water and wiped her forehead with a towel when suddenly she heard footsteps approaching her.

It was Mondo.

"So, how did it go?" he asked with a smile as he sat next to her. He too had finished a tough session, but his face still wore the same calm, relaxed look he always had. Sweat dripped from his forehead too, which at least made something about his perfect appearance a bit imperfect—but despite all the sweat, Willa still thought he was the most perfect guy on the planet, and even with all that sweat, she wanted to hug him, maybe even kiss him.

"Yeah, it went well today," Willa replied with a smile, still catching her breath. She had really cleared her head during the run, and that was the most important thing. She needed to clear her mind before the competition because if she thought about everything else besides the javelin throw, she'd mess up and wouldn't throw her personal best, which she wanted to break during this Olympics. "I'm exhausted, but it was worth it."

They sat next to each other in silence for a while, both quietly sharing the satisfaction that comes from hard work.

After a moment of silence, Willa turned to Mondo. "Mondo... I want to thank you for yesterday's dinner," she said quietly. Her voice was sincere, full of gratitude. "For being there. When Miles sat next to me, I really didn't know what to do. It wasn't exactly pleasant."

Mondo looked at her for a moment before nodding and smiling warmly. "You don't need to thank me, Cupcake. I noticed it wasn't easy. I'd do it again for you anytime."

Willa felt a wave of relief. Mondo had always been the one who understood her without needing long explanations. His calm and quiet presence gave her a sense of certainty and safety. For a moment, she reflected on how much he meant to her—not just as a teammate but as a friend.

"I think we've done enough work for today," Mondo said after a while, standing up from the bench. "How about we head back to the Olympic Village? We can grab some bikes and talk on the way about what to improve tomorrow." She liked how they didn't care that they each represented a different country. They were just two friends who wanted the best for each other. Mondo wanted to see his friend with a gold medal around her neck, and Willa wanted to see her friend break his world record. They both had it in them; they just needed to believe in themselves.

Willa nodded. "That sounds like a plan," she said as she got up too. She felt pleasantly tired but also full of energy after a good workout. All she needed now was some rest and a bit of time with Mondo to clear her head.

As they left the training center and got on their bikes, they pedaled quietly through the streets of Paris for a while. The sun was already higher in the sky, and the city was slowly coming to life. People were rushing to work, cafes were filling with patrons, and the streets were beginning to move at their typical chaotic pace. But for Willa and Mondo, it was perfect.

Mondo rode beside her, his bike moving easily and relaxed, just like him. Willa felt calm next to him. It was as if all the worries and doubts that had haunted her over the past few weeks had melted away. They just kept pedaling, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the city as they headed back to the Olympic Village.

"You know," Mondo began after a while, "I think you're going to nail it. The whole Olympics. You've got it in you."

Willa glanced at him briefly. "Thanks," she replied modestly. But inside, his words warmed her. Sometimes she doubted herself more than she'd admit, and Mondo seemed to sense it.

"Don't be so humble," he continued with a smile. "When you throw the javelin, it looks like you're not even putting any effort into it. The javelin flies so smoothly, doesn't wobble at all. We all know it, we can all see it."

Willa laughed. "Yeah, smoothly... more like it feels like someone's dragging me across the ground when I release it."

"No, seriously," Mondo insisted, his tone suddenly more serious. "You've got that special talent everyone's looking for. And I think this year, you're going to show it. Paris is just the beginning."

The silence that followed his words was pleasant. Willa felt a wave of energy and gratitude rush through her. Mondo had always been her support, and even though he might not fully realize it, his words had a deep impact on her.

"Thanks, Mondo," she said softly after a moment. "I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," he replied calmly. "I'm just glad we're here together. No matter what happens, you know I'll always be here for you."

His words filled her with warmth. She smiled at him, and they continued down the streets of Paris as the blue sky slowly turned into a brilliant orange sunset. They laughed and talked about everything—training, their experiences in Paris, the upcoming competitions. It was one of those moments when Willa realized that life wasn't just about races and goals. It was about the people who supported her, about friendships that were stronger than any competition.

When they arrived back at the Olympic Village, the sun had already risen to its highest point, filling the air with warmth. Mondo jumped off his bike and handed it to one of the technicians who took care of their equipment.

"Same time tomorrow," he said with a smile, stretching to loosen up his stiff muscles. "But right now, I could really go for a good meal."

"That sounds great," Willa agreed, and together they headed toward the building where lunch was waiting. The Olympic Village was bustling with activity, athletes from various countries were everywhere, all full of energy after a day of training, fun, or rest. Some were laughing, others discussing their race strategies, and overall, the atmosphere was filled with anticipation and excitement.

When they entered the dining hall, the air was filled with the aroma of various types of food. Each country had its own section with dishes reflecting its cuisine, and Willa couldn't wait to choose something. After a long day of training, her body craved energy. Her mouth watered as she saw the tables piled high with pasta, salads, bread, and meat.

"What do you think? Italian pasta or something Asian?" Mondo asked as they passed by the rich buffet.

Willa smiled. "Pasta sounds good. I need to recharge for the afternoon training," she said with a smile as she picked out her plate.

Once they both had their portions, they found an empty spot in one of the corners of the dining hall. They knew they had a moment to relax, and they intended to make the most of it. Willa sat down on a wooden bench and started eating. The first bite of pasta was so delicious that she closed her eyes and savored it. After a whole day of exertion and nerves, it was exactly what she needed.

"You look satisfied," Mondo remarked with a smile when he noticed how much she was enjoying her meal.

Willa laughed. "Post-training food always tastes the best," she said between bites, glancing up at him. Mondo started eating too, but for a moment, a comfortable silence settled between them.

After a while, Mondo put down his fork and looked at her more seriously. "How are you feeling, Willa? I mean, overall, with the Olympics just around the corner."

Willa hesitated for a moment. It was something she hadn't talked much about in recent days—her feelings about the upcoming competitions, the pressure and expectations weighing on her. When she was on the track, she could block out all external distractions and focus solely on her performance. But off the track? That was more complicated.

"Honestly?" she began quietly. "I have mixed feelings. On one hand, I'm excited, and I know I've worked hard to get here. But on the other hand... I feel a lot of pressure. I keep thinking about everything that could go wrong." Saying it out loud made her realize just how much she had been bottling up those worries. She looked at Mondo, who listened with understanding.

"That's normal," Mondo replied after a moment. He knew those feelings all too well; after all, this was his second Olympics. "Everyone has doubts before such a big event. But you're ready, Cupcake. I've seen you train. You're one of the best, and if you can do it in training, you'll do it in the competition too."

His words gave her comfort. Even though she sometimes doubted herself, she knew that in Mondo, she had someone who always provided support. She smiled at him and nodded gratefully.

"Thanks, Mondo. That really helps," she said sincerely, a spark of confidence returning to her eyes.

"Of course," he replied with a smile. "We all know you've got this. The whole team believes in you." Then he picked up his fork to take another bite of pasta. "But now, let's eat. We need to be fit for this afternoon."

Willa laughed, and they continued their meal. They talked about everything—experiences in Paris, what the next few days would bring, and even exchanged tips on the best places to visit after the competition. The atmosphere between them was light and relaxed, as if for a moment, they had forgotten all the pressure and were simply enjoying the present.

When they finished eating, they decided it was time to head back to their rooms and get ready for the next training session, which would take place around four in the afternoon. As they left the dining hall and walked back toward their accommodation, the air had cooled, and afternoon was beginning to settle over Paris. It was quiet, with only the occasional muffled voices of other athletes or the distant sounds of the city. Willa realized that this calm before the storm was exactly what she needed. And with Mondo by her side, she felt more confident than ever.

"Thanks for today," she said to him as they parted ways to their rooms. "Not just for the training, but for everything. It helps having you here."

Mondo looked at her and nodded. "Anytime, Cupcake. Anytime."

~•~