Eight o'clock, and Iron Vault Arena was packed to the rafters.
It was the Roarers' last home game of the season. The fans had filled the stands early, red thundersticks blurring together across the bowl, the energy hot enough to blow the roof off.
During warmups, Ryan was calmly stroking mid-range jumpers when Darius sidled up, dropping his voice like he was sharing a state secret.
"Quick," he said, tugging at Ryan's jersey. "Come with me."
Ryan blinked. "Where?"
"The death stare." Darius wore a look that said how could you forget, jerking his chin toward the other end. "Maddox. Same as always."
It took Ryan a second—then he snorted out a laugh.
The death stare.
It went back to their last road trip out there, a ridiculous stunt he'd pulled on a whim, dragging Kamara into it—the two of them marching stone-faced clear across to the other team's half, planting themselves right in front of Maddox like a pair of statues, staring him dead in the eye until the guy's skin crawled.
