Chapter 219: Five Seconds Slower

When we walked back into the house, Ruby threw her arms up, letting out a long stretch as she groaned. "Ugh, finally home! That was fun, but I am starving."

"Don’t worry, I’ll go make us something to eat," Patricia offered with a warm smile, unbuttoning her jacket and heading toward the kitchen.

Ruby’s eyes practically lit up, and she gasped dramatically. "Patricia, you are an absolute life saver! I could kiss you right now!"

Patricia chuckled, leaning over the kitchen counter as she pulled out a apron. "Alright, what is everyone craving? Speak up now."

Chloe requested a light pasta, I asked for whatever hearty dish she wanted to whip up, and Ruby excitedly rattled off a whole list of side dishes. But May just sat over on the island stool, resting her chin in her palm with her head tilted away, staring blankly at her phone screen. She looked completely distant, wrapped up in her own world.

"How about you, May?" Patricia asked softly, looking over at her. "Anything specific you want?"

May didn’t even look up from her phone, giving a lazy, nonchalant shrug. "Don’t care. I’ll eat whatever you guys pick."

Ruby crossed her arms and pouted, narrowing her eyes playfully at May’s unbothered attitude. "Well, look who’s giving us an attitude now! Miss Grumpy Pants is too cool for dinner requests."

May just rolled her eyes, letting out a heavy sigh without offering a single word back, still desperately holding onto her cold shoulder act.

When dinner was ready, we all sat around the table and dug in. Patricia’s cooking was incredible as always, and before long, everyone was full and completely relaxed—except for May, who sat near the end of the table quietly picking at her plate.

I turned to Ruby, taking a sip of my drink. "So, Ruby, how’s everything looking with your music? What’s the latest from your team?"

Ruby’s eyes lit up immediately. "Oh! My management actually called while we were driving back. They said the live tracks from the last session are being mixed right now and the final masters will be ready super soon!"

"That’s huge," I smiled, proud of her.

Looking across the table, I turned my attention toward May. "What about you, May? Do you know when your next formal race is, or which competition you’re aiming for first at the Zenith track?"

The moment the sound of her name left my mouth, May flinched—a tiny, involuntary jerk of her shoulders like she’d been caught off guard. She immediately caught herself, but the reaction was clear as day.

She stared down at her half-empty plate, let out a stiff sigh, and gave a low, indifferent shrug. "Don’t know yet. Tiana’s still finalizing the trial schedule."

Without another word, she pushed her chair back, grabbed her plate to set it in the sink, and walked straight out of the dining room before anyone could say another word, heading upstairs early.

Silence fell over the dining table for a second. Patricia set her fork down, watching the doorway where May had just disappeared with a soft, worried expression on her face.

"Is she really going to be okay, Ethan?" Patricia asked softly, her voice full of genuine concern. "I’ve never seen her this withdrawn."

"She’ll come around," I said reassuringly, placing a hand over Patricia’s. "Her head’s just in a complete fog right now between her track times and everything else. She just needs a little time to process it."

"Or a big push," Ruby added with a knowing smirk, leaning back in her chair. "Because at this rate, she’s going to drive herself crazy before she ever steps back on those starting blocks!"

Days melted into a steady, intense grind at the Zenith compound. Every single day, the team was right there by May’s side as Tiana put her through tailored, high-tech training modules—target-isolated resistance sleds, stride-efficiency treadmills, and dynamic reaction sensors designed to fix every micro-flaw in her biomechanics.

With her initial baseline metrics revealing where her power output was leaking, Tiana adjusted her daily regimens to systematically rebuild her explosive drive and physical strength from the ground up.

Through it all, May worked herself to near exhaustion. But emotionally, she remained behind an iron curtain. She barely spoke unless it was directly about her drill sets, kept her distance from me whenever possible, and put up that quiet, stoic wall every time the conversation drifted away from training.

By the end of the week, it was time for her first major weekend performance check—the sprint test designed to gauge how much progress she’d made and figure out what final adjustments were needed before her official competitive return.

The Zenith facility was quiet, illuminated by the glowing track lights. The girls were sitting up near the sidelines to cheer her on, while Tiana stood at the central terminal, fine-tuning the motion-tracking arrays.

May stood near the warm-up area, tying her track spikes in tight, calculated movements. I walked down toward the track apron, holding a fresh bottle of electrolyte water, but as I approached, May’s entire posture went rigid. She kept her head down, avoiding my eyes as she bounced lightly on her toes, completely locked inside her own head.

"Sprint test is loaded and ready, May," Tiana announced over the facility speakers, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Whenever you’re ready to set into the blocks."

May gave a single, tight nod, stepping onto the track while still maintaining that icy, distant silence.

May settled into the starting blocks, her body coiled like a high-tension spring.

"Ready... Set..."

The electronic buzzer cracked through the facility, and May exploded off the blocks with raw, terrifying power.

She looked incredible. Her drive phase was low, aggressive, and perfectly balanced. By thirty meters, she hit her top gear, her stride opening up with the lightning speed that made her a world record holder.

"Yes! Look at her go!" Ruby shouted, leaning over the rail.

"She’s completely locked in!" Chloe added, her eyes wide as she tracked May’s pace against the overhead digital timer.

She was flying—on track to shatter her baseline run. But right as she crossed the sixty-meter mark, it happened.

May’s focus completely fractured. Her eyes, usually locked on the finish line with laser intensity, drifted slightly sideways—firing a brief, panicked glance right toward where I was standing on the sideline. The instant her gaze met mine, her rhythm tore apart.

Her stride stuttered. The explosive power in her legs vanished, and her pace noticeably rapidly slowed down right in the middle of the open lane, her head completely full of the internal noise she’d been fighting all week.

"Wait... what is she doing?!" Ruby gasped, jumping to her feet. "Why is she slowing down?!"

"May! The track!" I yelled, my voice ringing out across the quiet facility.

My voice snapped her out of it, but it was already far too late. She panicked, trying to dig her spikes back into the track and regain her momentum, but the flow was gone. She coasted across the finish line with her head hanging low.

The massive digital scoreboard over the track flashed her final time:

16.82 seconds.

A brutal, crushing five seconds slower than her baseline—an absolute disaster for a world-class sprinter.

Silence descended over the entire Zenith compound. Tiana stared at the console readouts in pure shock, while Chloe, Patricia, and Ruby stood frozen at the railing.

May remained standing near the finish line, hands on her knees, her shoulders heaving as she stared at the glowing numbers on the board in utter disbelief and heartbreak.