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She lost against Sorana. First round. She played her best, but clearly, it wasn’t enough. Eva didn’t know what to do after losing the first round of Melbourne. It was supposed to be exactly like the fairytale that was AO25. The loss was brutal, and so was her injury.
Eva posted an announcement on her story saying that she would be taking a break from tennis. The story she shared after that, was a video of the injury itself. It happened during her first match of the season. It was funny; After making her mark in 2025, the concept of going any further was immediately destroyed. As she ran across the court, her knee bent inwards. It didn’t look real. Watching that video would somehow make you feel the pain with her. And Eva felt all of it, as the video replayed in her mind and right in front of her. She just wanted to get better.
In less than an hour, she got a reply to her story. She got multiple. But, those didn’t matter—at least that’s what she tried to tell herself. It was just a bunch of hate messages that wouldn’t stop comparing the current Eva Lys to the beautiful Australian Open 2025 breakthrough Eva Lys.
The reply that did matter, though, came from Zeynep.
Hey Eva
I just saw your story. Hope you get well soon. 🤍 The message was formal, like an email. That was the way Zeynep texted.
thank u zeynep :) She wrote back, closed her phone and smiled. It seemed that no one knew what she was feeling and it was only Zeynep that gave a fuck about her. But, of course she cared about her. They were friends. And it hadn’t been long since they’d last seen each other.
The happiness was only temporary when she stared across her bed. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the bandages that wrapped around her knee. The tape on her leg reminded her that she wasn’t allowed to go back on court. She was trapped. Too lazy to get out of bed; now, she was lying on the mattress. A movie on Netflix was on, but she wasn’t even watching it. She never wanted to watch it in the first place. She spent the whole time on her phone, scrolling. Scrolling through her Instagram feed, full of posts from the other girls on tour.
She loved her friends. But, knowing she was missing out on so much, — it wasn’t much, just the regular cycle of practice, gym, tennis, shower, press conference, and physio. — it made her sick. Sicker than she already was. As much as she wanted to go back on tour as soon as possible, if she saw another post related to tennis, or did anything revolving around tennis, she would kill someone.
She needed to do something fun— it didn’t need to be productive, just fulfilling. Or distracting. But, now, she was going to sleep.
Eva woke up from the worst sleep of her life. It was 12:00PM. As if she couldn’t feel any worse about herself. During the tennis season, she would prioritise waking up early. She didn’t need to worry about the tennis season right now. Today was going to be good. Eva told herself as she sat up straight on the edge of the bed, her toes touching her cold wooden floor. Even if her thoughts wouldn’t cooperate.
As Eva brushed her teeth, she stared at herself through the mirror. Looking for the thing that made her the world No. 40. That number doesn’t seem like much until you realize she’s in the top 70 now. Looking for the spark she had last year. Looking for the opportunities she had. She’s said before that she would rather be ranked low and happy instead of ranked high and sad. Now, it was weird, because she was No. 69 in the world and this close to killing herself!
She spit the toothpaste out and took a deep breath. Today was going to be good.
Eva didn’t have any plans for her good day. Until she read the message that Zeynep sent at 8:00AM. Technically, in Abu Dhabi, it was 11:00AM.
I’m playing Alex in R1 Eva knew a lot about Alex— I’m a bit scared, she’s my friend, the next message read — Like how she and Zeynep were friends.
Well, Eva and Alex were also, kind of, friends. They played doubles in Wimbledon last year. They didn’t make it far, though. Only played the first round. But, it was fun. During every changeover, they would just talk, and gossip, and talk. Eva remembered that during that match she wasn’t focusing on what Alex was saying. Eva was busy thinking about how Alex was the tennis player she wanted to be. Eva just wanted to beat Iga. She felt bad for thinking that, but lots of players would want to defeat Iga, right?
Today wasn’t gonna be the fun doubles match Alex and Eva had. Zeynep and Alex were not friends today. Just opponents.
A promise was a promise. It was an hour before sunset in Berlin. The first main attempt at distracting herself from the tennis world wasn’t a success. But it was alright, as long as she was doing it for Zeynep.
Her TV screen was bright. And the court was a weird turquoise color along with a shade of grey that she thought didn’t match at all. The colors reflected on Eva’s face.
The crowd was loud for Alex; the Filipino fans followed her everywhere she went. But, Zeynep could handle the roaring crowd. She was used to it in Melbourne.
It was far enough in the match for Zeynep to open her diary. She was losing. What was written inside was a message from her past self, telling her what she could do in this moment. Telling her what she could do under pressure. Eva could tell she was nervous. She wanted to be there, in her box, reminding her that she’s doing great. But, Zeynep was confident enough to already know that. She knew how to stay calm under pressure. She didn’t need a reminder. She didn’t need a reminder from Eva.
Eva winced at every point Alex made.
She played great; better than the scoreline suggested. She put up a fight. To Eva, it didn’t matter that she lost; she was proud nonetheless. As the match ended, Eva wanted to prepare a message for both Zeynep and Alex. Just as she was about to write the first text to Zeynep, her attention shifted towards the TV. Zeynep and Alex were hugging. Their arms were wrapped around each other as Zeynep whispered in her ear, probably complimenting her. Her mouth was close to her ear; Alex could feel her lips move more than she could hear her words. But, still, she couldn’t stop laughing. That made Zeynep smirk. Even after the hug, as they were walking towards the umpire, they still held on to each other.
It wasn’t new for Zeynep to compliment people at the net, or hug them, or talk to them. She did it with Eva all the time. It was probably a way to distract her from the loss. She smiled. It seemed that she was proud of the fact she lost in straights. At least it was Alex that beat her.
“Alexandra Eala moves on to the second round of the—“ The commentator announced and was cut off by Eva, closing the TV screen with her remote. The screen was dark now. Dark enough to realize how much her eyes burnt from the screen. Dark enough to the point she could see her own reflection. She looked pathetic. She sat on the couch with one, broken, leg set on the coffee table. And her face spoke for itself. Eva tossed the remote on the cushion and grabbed her phone again. Finishing her, now, passive aggressive text.
The day wasn’t good. She just stayed at home, on her phone, again. Scrolling on Instagram. Looking for another thing she was missing out on.
Eva stumbled upon Alex’s new post and swiped through every photo. The fifth slide was a photo of Alex and Zeynep, sharing the same smile. Their bright white teeth shined in Eva’s eyes. Their eyes stared back at hers. She couldn’t look at that photo any longer, she hid in the comments section.
It wasn’t enough, Zeynep was there too.
Love youuuu 💕💕 Zeynep wrote, making her one of the first people to comment under that post.
Eva also left a comment. Because, if she didn’t, she would feel bad. They would figure out she was jealous of them. It didn’t help that all of the other comments were just shipping them.
It felt like it was every day she would discover something that would remind her that she was 1. Not back on court, and 2. That Zeynep and Alex were.
Zeynep made a vlog for the WTA Youtube channel. It was a solid ten minutes long. The video was recorded the day before Zeynep and Alex played, but posted a week later. Eva also did these vlogs before. She knew the process that went into making them. It was kind of fun, actually.
In the clips, Eva noticed that Zeynep got shy around Priscilla and Daria. It was weird to see her like that. She was confident around everyone else. Like when she was with Maya. Maya didn’t know when to speak whenever she was around her. She paid attention to every little thing she did to avoid embarrassing herself in front of Zeynep. That was how Eva felt as well. Eva felt weird about Zeynep talking with Maya. Because Maya and Alex were friends. And then she remembered how selfish she was acting.
During practice, Zeynep met up with Ajla. Eva was the one that introduced them to each other. And now, they were talking without her. It was fine, of course. Eva got bored and skipped a few seconds.
The WTA social media admin asked Zeynep about her friendship with Alex. Eva was also asked that—but not with Alex, of course; Zeynep— during the Billie Jean King Cup playoffs in November of last year. It was the last match they had against each other.
Zeynep answered, “We’ve been trying to go out for dinner, but we haven’t been able to. You know, Alex is busy. She’s too famous," She laughed. Eva rolled her eyes when she realised that the post she saw a few days earlier was in fact the dinner date she was talking about now.
Eva waited for the clip to end, only to be met with a clip that was worse.
Zeynep was tugging her arm on Alex’s shoulder. Her hand was grazing her neck. And their faces were glued to each other. Alex held on to Zeynep’s hand, as if that was a signal for her to let go. So, she did, and instead, she put her arm around her waist.
Eva wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying. Was it about shopping? Or that dinner date that happened but Zeynep and Alex didn’t know it yet?
“Okay, say Seni seviyorum.” Eva’d heard that before, but she couldn’t remember where or what it meant.
Alex repeated after her, “Seni seviyorum.”
“You know what it means?” She smiled, unable to contain her excitement.
“No?”
“I love you.” She grinned.
They both awed with their lips pouting.
“So cute,” Alex said.
Eva almost choked. Zeynep told Eva that she loves her, but it wasn’t this sincere. And she certainly didn’t say it in Turkish. Everything Zeynep did with Alex felt sincere; with Eva, it was just awkward.
The WTA put more attention on Zeynep and Alex now. Their matches were always on Centre Court. They were the ones with a larger fan base. They were the ones still on tour. They were the ones that didn’t have a knee injury. The tour was made for them, not Eva; that’s what the “fans” in her message requests thought so. She said she would never let them get to her head—
“Okay, now teach me your—“
Alex cut her off “Mahal kita,” She stared at her. “That’s how you say it.” She said it softly, and quietly.
“Oh! That’s easy,” Zeynep laughed, “Mahal kita, Alex!” She said, looking through the camera. Staring directly at Eva.
“Guys, she’s my most famous guest.” Zeynep wouldn’t stop saying that. Eva got it already.
Alex’s smile faded. Seems like she wasn’t a fan of it as well— “Who else was a guest?”—for a very different reason.
“Oh—No, I mean—“ It was the first time Zeynep looked flustered. Sure, she got shy around Priscilla when they hugged, but then, she remained calm. She certainly wasn’t calm now. And she certainly only cared when Alex was jealous. Not when Eva was. Eva knew it was illogical to think like that, but she continued to do so. Her own guilt consuming her in the process.
“I’m joking,” Alex reassured her. They both burst out into laughter.
That’s what got her. Eva turned off the screen in anger. She wanted to stop. Stop feeling jealous because they were her friends. She needed to push this feeling, this guilt, away. That priority only made the knot in her stomach tighter. Eva would usually go to Zeynep whenever she was frustrated; this was the most alone she ever felt. And not many people were in Berlin. The thought of going back on tour was bittersweet. To see them again, it would be hell. But, to prove something to her fans,
Hide your sons, hide your daughters, hide your husbands AND wives… Eva’s Instagram story read. She was at Indian Wells now, finally back on court with everyone else.
Glad you’re back <3 Zeynep wrote to her.
She hearted the message and immediately shut off her phone. She needed to leave, her practice session was over.
“Hey!” Eva looked up, it was Alex. “Sorry, my team and I came to practice earlier than expected.” Alex smiled sheepishly.
“Oh—it’s okay. You came on time.” A small polite nod from Eva.
Alex laughed but then her facial expression softened along with her voice, “Are you good, though?”
“Yeah, just tired. You know, practice and stuff.” She weirdly gestured her hands around and got up.
Alex knew she was lying and put her hand on her shoulder, “Well, you just came back. Don’t tire yourself too much.” She thought maybe that’d help.
“I know.” She started walking. They were on opposite sides of the court now. The net separated them.
“Bye!” Alex yelled. The conversation was already over and Eva looked back “Bye.” She waved, her other hand holding on to her tennis bag.
It felt wrong talking to her so casually while every time she thought of her she just wanted to die.
That conversation contributed a lot to the choice of playing Indian Wells, or not. Her match was tomorrow. And her knee hurt more than ever. There was no shot she’d win her first round. Hell—she’d probably retire.
Right after her practice with Emma, Zeynep invited Eva and Alex to a restaurant. It was her thing. Plus, it was a day off for all of them. Even for Eva; it was the day after she withdrew from Indian Wells. So it was a perfect opportunity for them to go out for dinner, according to an oblivious Zeynep.
No one was talking, just the sounds of the forks hitting the plates.
Alex was worried for Eva, “Why’d you withdraw?”
Both Zeynep and Alex looked at her, waiting for an answer. Eva chewed on her food, “My knee.” She barely made eye contact with them. Only looking at her plate.
“Ohhhhh.” Alex looked at Zeynep. And Eva looked at them both. Silence, again.
“So…” She started.
Eva froze as she was taking a bite of her food and shot a look at her. Zeynep still continued, “When did you land here?”
She sighed, “A few days ago.”
Alex watched them both and laughed, “Be more specific.” A failed attempt at trying to lighten up the mood.
Eva was about to reply,
“No, that's okay. It’s enough information.” Zeynep gestured her hands. “You play Yastremska tomorrow, right?”
She was caught off guard, “Oh—yeah.” Eala nodded and added an awkward smile.
Eva jumped up from her seat, “I need to go,” She paused and pointed, “—to the bathroom.”
Now, she could finally hide from them. She actively tried to not talk to them as much because if so, they probably wouldn’t be friends anymore. For the past month, she’d been numb. She wasn’t childish; she didn’t cry. She just needed to breathe. Eva stood over the sink, today was going to be good. She didn’t believe herself this time. She looked at the mirror. She’d been here before. Looking through it. Looking for the kinder Eva from a month ago, that was neither jealous nor guilty. It was a feeling she’d take to the grave. No one could know. The buzzing sound in the bathroom hurt her ears. She was looking for the source only to hear something else other than the buzz; the door opening. Eva wanted to hide in the stalls in case it was—
Zeynep. The lighting in the bathroom made her look paler than she already was. The light shone over Eva’s face. There was no way she could hide. The spotlight was all on her. Zeynep rushed towards her,
“What’s wrong, Eva? Alex said that you were acting—“
She turned to her and laughed, “Again?” Her voice cracked.
Zeynep was genuinely confused, “What?”
“Alex! All you do is talk about Alex!” She pressed her hand on her eyes. She didn’t mean to let that out.
“Oh,” she shrunk. Zeynep paused for a little bit, not knowing how to reply. “I’m sorry. I just wanted you to feel better so I planned this dinner,” Zeynep continued. She didn’t want to Eva to feel sorry for her, but still, Eva did. Eva removed her hand from her face. She felt selfish and petty.
It was quiet, “I didn’t realize you didn’t want Alex there.” Zeynep also didn’t realize how close she was to Eva.
“I’m sorry,” Eva dipped her head into Zeynep’s shoulder. And now, she was crying. Finally—after a month, she was crying. Zeynep hugged her; the same way she hugged Alex. “No, I’m sorry.”
“I feel so selfish. I swear I don’t hate Alex—“ Eva reassured with her voice muffled.
“No, I know.” She rubbed her back.
“It’s just— you two were together, all the time,” She was mad. But she felt a bit lighter after saying that. “You weren’t even sad that you lost to her.”
Zeynep pulled away, slowly, “Who? Alex?” They were looking at each other again. Eva nodded.
She forgot about that match. Zeynep laughed, “I was, actually.”
Eva wiped the tears on her cheek, she was calmer now. Her eyebrow went up.
Zeynep smiled, it was like she was waiting for her to do that, “It was you I didn’t mind losing to.” Eva was stunned. She remembered how happy they both were. Now, they were already so close and before Eva could reply, Zeynep pulled her closer, and she kissed her.
Her lips, warm and soft, were on hers. Zeynep was gentle. But, she didn’t pull away; she held on to her waist. She didn’t realize what was happening—she didn’t want to. Eva wanted to say something until she felt Zeynep’s hands slide down, as her nails dug in her back. Her face turned red. Eva knew that someone could walk in and see them like this. Yet, she didn’t care. Eva’s hand was already on Zeynep’s chest. She moved her hand upwards, touching her necklace, and then twirling her hair. Eva kissed her more and more as Zeynep tried to pull away. Eva didn’t notice until their lips separated. “Sorry,” Eva whispered while they were still close. She didn’t need to be sorry. Zeynep was panting as she held on to Eva. Zeynep never kissed a girl before. Her face lit up.
That kiss saved Eva; if it didn’t happen she would still be sulking over Alex. There was so much they didn’t say but a kiss was all they needed to see through each other. Like a fairytale. Eva didn’t know what to do, she waited for her to do something first. Zeynep fixed herself up in the mirror. She looked back at Eva and held her hands to kiss them. It was soft. Delicate. You would barely feel it; but Eva felt it all.
“Let’s go back,” Zeynep said, still out of breath.
”Oh—yeah, okay.” Eva replied, flustered. She followed Zeynep’s footsteps.