Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It started with a single, candid photo.

It wasn't a staged studio shoot or a calculated PR drop. Just a grainy, slightly poorly lit post-game picture taken at a bustling diner near the arena.

In it, Aiah was laughing, her face turned sideways, while next to her, Mikha Lim—the lethal, famously stoic red-haired outside hitter for the DLSU Lady Spikers—was caught mid-smile, holding up a peace sign.

Technically, they weren’t the only ones in the frame.

The photo also included Colet, Mikha’s fierce co-captain and setter, who was busy trying to steal a fry from Maloi, Aiah’s chaotic best friend. But the internet completely bypassed the group dynamic. Save for the fact that Colet and Maloi were actually a couple. 

Within an hour of the photo being leaked by a random fan who spotted them, the media went into a tailspin. Aiah Arceta, the rising darling of the local fashion industry and a high-profile model, sharing a table with Mikha Lim, the reigning MVP of collegiate volleyball?

It was a collision of two entirely different worlds. The sports forums were buzzing, the fashion side of X was hyperventilating, and brands were already drooling over the potential of a "Fashion x Athletics" crossover.

And now, Aiah found herself sitting in a plush vanity chair, fully glammed from the neck down, waiting for her hair stylist to come back and finish a complicated updo. To pass the time and appease her management, she was doing a scheduled Instagram Live.

The only problem? She was losing the battle against her own eyes.

"Yes, the shoot today is for a new summer campaign," Aiah said to the camera, flash-smiling her signature, effortless smile.

She adjusted her robe, trying to look at the top corner of the screen where the viewer count was skyrocketing, but her gaze kept slipping downward to the rapidly scrolling comment section.

@mikhachu: AIAH CRUSH KITA PERO WAG MO NAMAN AGAWIN SI MIKHA

@spikers_updates: Are you gonna watch the DLSU upcoming games?

@aiahmazing: you’re so pretty, love! good luck sa shoot🫶🏻

@allaboutM: ganda mo! bagay talaga kayo ni- */ tinamaan ng bola

Aiah was trying so hard to avoid the comments, but they never stopped. The screen was a blur of green hearts, volleyball emojis, and caps-lock interrogation marks. Her eyes darted back and forth, expertly filtering out the words DLSU, Spiker, Red-head, and Lim.

"Oh, thank you so much, @aiahmazing!" Aiah chirped, instantly latching onto the one safe comment she could find. "I'm really excited for this shoot too. The set design is absolutely beautiful."

She deliberately looked away from the phone, pretending to check her reflection in the mirror. But the curiosity—and the sheer speed of the chat—pulled her right back.

@uaap.confessions: @aiah_arceta did you meet at the afterparty??

@styleph: What shade of lipstick are you wearing today, Aiah?

@mikhalim_fan: MAY GAME SILA BUKAS MANONOOD KA BA??

"Someone's asking about the lipstick," Aiah quickly announced, her voice a pitch higher than usual as she practically sprinted past the UAAP questions. "This is actually a custom blend of a warm nude and a bit of terracotta. I think my makeup artist wanted something that gives a sun-kissed look for the campaign."

Behind the ring light, Jhoanna and Maloi were sitting on the dressing room couch.

Jhoanna, who had been scrolling through X on her own phone, looked up with wide, stressed-out eyes. She gave Aiah a subtle thumbs-up, silently praising her friend's Olympic-level dodging skills. Maloi, on the other hand, was biting her lip to muffle her giggles, thoroughly enjoying Aiah's internal panic.

Aiah shot Maloi a warning glare before returning her gaze to the screen.

@daily_aiah: notice me please! any tips for aspiring models?

@shippercentral: CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE DINER PHOTO THOUGH

@ajiii: Volley-fashion crossover of the century fr fr

"Hi @daily_aiah!" Aiah read out loud, completely ignoring the two comments sandwiching it. "My biggest tip is really just to practice your posture and, you know, find your angles. Confidence is key! Just don't let outside noise distract you from your focus."

She said the last part with a little too much emphasis, mostly reminding herself.

"Anyway, since we're almost done with the hair," Aiah continued, desperately trying to keep the conversation strictly about fashion, beauty, and literally anything else that didn't involve a volleyball court. "Are you guys liking the updo? Or do you prefer it down?"

The comments flashed by in a frenzy, half of them answering her question about her hair, and the other half still demanding to know if the MVP's jersey was currently sitting in her laundry basket.

Aiah smiled tightly, determined to keep her composure even as her cheeks began to burn under the studio lights.

"I think the updo is winning," Aiah laughed, watching the flood of answers cascade down the screen. "Thank you guys so much for the input. My stylist is a genius, right?"

But despite her best efforts to keep the conversation anchored to hair and makeup, the comment section was moving at a speed that was becoming impossible to manage. The viewer count had nearly doubled since she started, and the sheer volume of red hearts and volleyball emojis was practically lagging her phone.

@mikhaiah_shipper: MACOLET X MIKHAIAH??

@UAAPcourtside: Aiah peek the latest trends page on X 👀

@anonymouse: may something naman talaga sila lol😂

@cocacolets: HINDI SIYA SUMASAGOT KASI TOTOO??

Aiah’s eyes caught that last one, and she knew she had to bail before her facial expressions betrayed her completely.

She shot a frantic, wide-eyed look over the top of her phone toward the couch. Jhoanna instantly got the message, slicing a finger across her throat in a universal "cut it" motion. Maloi just gave her a chaotic thumbs-up, still filming Aiah's struggle for her own private archives.

"Alright, everyone," Aiah said smoothly, turning back to the camera with her most flawless, professional smile. "My stylist is here, and the photographer is calling for me on set. I have to go get into my first outfit!"

She leaned a bit closer to the screen, deliberately ignoring the chaotic text still rolling by.

"Thank you all so much for hanging out with me today! Don't forget to look out for the summer campaign dropping soon. Stay safe, and I love you guys! Bye!"

With a practiced, elegant swipe, Aiah hit the 'End Live' button, confirmed the prompt to close it out, and watched the screen finally go black.

The second the phone was face-down on the vanity table, Aiah let out a massive, dramatic breath, slumping forward and burying her face in her hands.

"Oh my god," she groaned, her voice muffled against her palms. "That was the longest ten minutes of my entire life."

From the couch, Maloi burst out laughing, throwing a couch pillow at her. "Longest ten minutes? Trust me, Ate Aiah, the internet is just getting started. Nakita mo ba yung engagements?"

"I haven’t opened anything aside from Instagram," Aiah sighed, running a hand over her face. She looked over at Jhoanna, who was sitting quietly on the other side of the couch, watching the chaos unfold with an amused smirk.

Aiah groaned, turning back to face her mirror. "What do I do? I feel like this won’t stop unless I acknowledge it. That photo really did it.”

"I mean, since nalabas na rin naman, why don’t you answer them? I think curious lang naman sila kung manonood ka," Maloi suggested, tossing a piece of pastry into her mouth.

"They are not even asking about..." Maloi paused, a knowing, playful grin breaking across her face. "About her."

"Maloi!" Aiah hissed, her face instantly heating up again. She grabbed the cushion Maloi had thrown earlier and hugged it tightly against her chest. 

Jhoanna finally chimed in, putting her phone down. "To be fair, may point si ate Maloi."

"What happened to you praising me earlier to avoid the comments?" 

"Well, the sports fans are just hyped about the crossover, and the fashion crowd thinks it's a brilliant aesthetic. If you just clear the air about the game this weekend, malay mo tumigil. Walang malisya." Jhoanna shrugged. 

"Unless..."

"Don't even think about mentioning it, Jhoanna." Aiah gave her a death stare.

"Joke lang eh!" Jhoanna laughed, waving her hand dismissively before throwing her head back against the couch cushions.

Fast forward to the most anticipated game of the year—both on and off the court. Literally, because it was Game 1 of the UAAP Finals. And figuratively, because the entire internet was holding its breath, waiting to see if a certain fashion darling would actually show up courtside.

Coincidentally, Aiah actually had a rare, blissful rest day.

Instead of sitting in a stadium under the blinding house lights and thousands of screaming fans, she was currently buried under a mountain of blankets on her condo couch, fully intending to give the word 'rest' its literal meaning. She was wearing an oversized grey shirt, her hair was tied up in a messy, structural bun held together by sheer willpower, and she hadn't put on a speck of makeup all day.

She turned onto her side, propping her head up with one hand while her thumb mindlessly flicked upward on her phone screen.

Her algorithm was completely shot.

About twenty-five percent of her feed consisted of random cat videos, baking tutorials, and aesthetic interior design reels. The other seventy-five percent?

Number 8 from De La Salle University.

Aiah sighed, a small, helpless smile slipping onto her face as a video loop of Mikha pre-game walked across her screen.

Mikha was wearing her green DLSU jacket, oversized headphones resting around her neck, her bright red hair contrasting sharply against the fabric. She looked intensely focused, her jaw clenched, entirely radiating the "stoic MVP" energy the sports world knew her for.

Then Aiah's mind instantly flashed back to a message she had received from Maloi late last night.

Maloi: I have three tickets in case you change your mind to watch COLET

Maloi: In case lang naman ha, uulitin ko, IN CASE LANG NAMAN 

She stared at the text string in her messaging app, then glanced back over to the sports portal on her feed. A live countdown timer showed exactly forty-five minutes until the first whistle.

The arena was only a thirty-minute drive away if traffic was kind.

Aiah rolled onto her back, staring up at her condo ceiling. She was supposed to be resting. Her body desperately needed a day of absolutely nothing, away from cameras, away from the public eye, and away from the spotlight.

But as she listened to the hum of her air conditioner, she realized her mind wasn't actually resting at all. 

She picked up her phone again and opened Maloi's chat.

Aiah: Are you guys already there?

The reply was instantaneous, as if Maloi had been hovering over her phone waiting for this exact moment.

Maloi: NASA PARKING PALANG KAMI!!!

Maloi: Jhoanna is literally buying popcorn as we speak.

Maloi: SABI KO NA NGA BA E!!! SUNDUIN KA NAMIN?!

Aiah laughed, sitting up on the couch. The quiet comfort of her living room suddenly felt a little too lonely compared to the electric energy waiting inside that arena. She swung her legs over the edge of the couch, a sudden burst of adrenaline making her heart race.

Aiah: Don't pick me up, I'll just grab a cab. Just wait for me there.

Maloi sent a string of screaming emojis in response, practically losing her mind. 

Aiah tossed her phone onto the cushion and sprinted toward her bedroom. She had exactly fifteen minutes to turn herself from a couch potato into a courtside spectator—and for once, she wasn't worried about the fashion cameras at all.

One game wouldn’t hurt, right?

The transition from her quiet condo to the chaotic energy of the arena parking lot happened in a blur of adrenaline.

Aiah stepped out of her cab, instantly pulling her cap lower as the distant roar of the crowd muffled through the concrete walls of the colosseum.

She spotted Maloi’s car near the VIP entrance and hurried over, wrapping her oversized white jacket tightly around herself.

Maloi slid out of the passenger seat, taking one look at Aiah's rushed ensemble.

"Are you sure about that?" she asked, her eyes scanning Aiah’s whole existence from her plain cap down to her casual sneakers.

"It's giving 'lowkey but not hiding,'" Jhoanna commented, stepping out from the driver's side with a bucket of popcorn already in hand. She shrugged approvingly. "Okay na 'yan. Gamitin mo na lang si Ate Maloi pag nagkagulo na naman."

"Hoy, bakit ako na naman?!" Maloi whined, though she was already grabbing Aiah’s arm and pulling her toward the security gates. "Basta bahala na, ginusto mo 'to."

They hurried through the VIP corridors, the thumping bass of the arena's sound system vibrating through the floorboards.

By the time they reached the courtside tunnel, the house lights suddenly went completely dark. The crowd erupted into a deafening scream.

They were introducing the lineups.

Aiah felt her heart leap into her throat as the spotlight began to dance across the floor. Guided by an usher, the three of them quickly filed into the front row of the patron section.

And then, as if perfectly on cue, the moment Aiah finally sat down in her seat, the arena announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, dripping with theatrical gravity:

"From De La Salle University... Number 8, Outside Hitter... MIKHA LIM!"

The green side of the stadium went absolutely feral. Pyrotechnics flared at the end of the tunnel, lighting up the arena in a flash of bright green.

Aiah looked up, her breath catching.

Emerging from the smoke was Mikha, jogging out onto the court with her signature intense, focused stride, her bright red hair catching the arena lights like a flame.

As Mikha high-fived her teammates and turned around to face the crowd, her eyes instinctively swept over the front row—and stopped dead.

Even through the dim lighting, Aiah knew the exact moment Mikha spotted her. The stoic, deadly MVP posture slightly faltered for a fraction of a second, her jaw relaxing as she took in Aiah sitting right there in her white jacket and cap.

Aiah immediately looked away.

Beside her, Maloi aggressively nudged her knee. "Perfect timing ha? Pang-pelikula."

The game itself lived up to every ounce of the hype, turning into a masterclass in pure athletic intensity. From the moment the referee’s first whistle blew, the energy inside the sold-out arena was suffocating.

Every time Colet made a brilliant set, Maloi and Jhoanna were already on their feet, screaming themselves hoarse.

The real chaos happened during the second set. DLSU was leading 18-17, but after a monstrous down-the-line spike from Mikha, the opposing team's coach immediately signaled for a video challenge, suspecting the ball had landed just outside the line.

The game ground to a temporary halt. As the referees reviewed the footage, the arena's massive overhead LED screen came alive to keep the crowd entertained, scanning the VIP and patron sections for notable faces in attendance.

The camera started panning through the crowd, cutting to various local celebrities and former UAAP athletes who had shown up for Game 1.

First, the screen showed a famous actor waving from the lower box—the crowd cheered politely. Then, it cut to a couple of popular content creators who did a dramatic dance for the camera, drawing loud laughs from the audience. Next up was a legendary former Ateneo player sitting in the blue section, which prompted a massive roar from the opposing team's side.

And then, the camera operator spotted the courtside section.

The LED screen suddenly flashed, cutting directly to a close-up of Aiah.

She was mid-laugh, listening to something Jhoanna was saying, completely unaware that her face was currently being projected to over twenty thousand people.

Maloi noticed first, immediately pointing up at the ceiling and screaming. Aiah looked up, saw herself on the giant screen, and her eyes went wide in pure shock.

Instinctively, she let out a shy, breathless laugh, hiding the lower half of her face with her hand while waving timidly at the camera, her white jacket slipping slightly off her shoulder.

The arena absolutely lost its mind.

It wasn't just a normal cheer—it was a deafening, unified roar that shook the very foundation of the stadium.

The green side went completely wild, screaming and waving their pom-poms, completely validating the viral diner photo. But what surprised everyone was the blue side.

The opposing team's fans, recognizing the high-profile fashion darling, started cheering and whistling just as loudly, temporarily forgetting the fierce team rivalry.

For a brief ten seconds, Aiah Arceta had united the entire stadium.

Naturally, the camera operator—a true professional—immediately split the LED screen in half: Aiah on the left, blushing and hiding behind her cap, and Mikha on the right, looking down at the floor with a massive, telltale smile.

The crowd’s screaming reached a whole new, historic level.

"Hay nako, yari na!" Jhoanna yelled over the noise, fan-girling completely beside a victorious Maloi. "Grabe, the internet is about to explode.”

The escape from the arena was a tactical mission.

Guided by Jhoanna’s quick thinking, they managed to slip out of the patron gates just before the final whistle blew, beating the massive wave of twenty thousand ecstatic fans pouring into the streets.

Now, they were safely inside Jhoanna’s car, trapped in the predictably brutal post-game traffic right outside the stadium. The city lights blurred against the windows as rain began to lightly tap against the glass.

In the backseat, Aiah had slumped down completely, her cap pulled all the way over her face as if she could hide from the sheer gravity of what had just happened.

"Oh my god," Aiah groaned from under the brim, her voice muffled but filled with a mix of disbelief and sheer embarrassment. "I'm never leaving my condo again. Did you hear the noise? I think I have permanent hearing damage."

"Hearing damage? Girl, look at the screen! Hindi pwedeng mag-isa ka lang na nabibingi rito," Maloi turned around from the passenger seat, not holding her own phone, but instead propping Jhoanna's phone up against the dashboard console. "Habol tayo sa broadcast! Sabi ni Colet si Mikha raw ang Player of the Game."

Jhoanna quickly adjusted the car volume, linking her phone's audio to the car speakers.

The familiar, high-energy theme music of the UAAP broadcast filled the vehicle, instantly making Aiah sit up. Despite not wanting to watch, her eyes automatically glued themselves to the screen.

On the live stream, the camera cut to the center of the court.

Mikha was standing there, a pristine white towel draped around her neck, holding the Player of the Game plaque. Her red hair was damp from sweat, her cheeks still flushed from the grueling four-set match, but she looked radiant.

The courtside reporter stepped into the frame, holding up the microphone with a bright smile.

"A spectacular performance today, Mikha! You finished with twenty-two points, leading the Lady Spikers to a crucial Game 1 victory. What was the mindset going into that final set?"

Mikha took the mic, her voice coming through the car speakers—deep, a little breathless, but completely steady. "We just wanted to stay composed. Coach told us to trust the system and trust each other. It’s a finals game, so the pressure is always there, but we just had to focus on the goal."

"Speaking of focus," the reporter smiled, a distinctly playful glint in her eyes as she leaned in a bit closer. "The energy in the arena today was absolutely electric, especially during that second-set challenge where the crowd just went wild. Is there anything—or anyone—in particular that's keeping you inspired and giving you that extra push today?"

Inside the car, Maloi and Jhoanna instantly gasped, holding their breath. Aiah froze, her hands gripping the edge of the front seat.

On screen, Mikha didn't even try to maintain her famous poker face. She shifted her weight, a soft, helpless smile pulling at the corner of her lips. "Aside from my family..."

Before Mikha could even finish her sentence, a chaotic blur of green jerseys suddenly crashed into the frame. Colet popped up right behind Mikha’s shoulder, her eyes wide as she pointed a finger directly at the camera.

"Si ano raw!" Colet yelled, her voice easily overriding the courtside microphone.

Instantly, the rest of the DLSU Lady Spikers swarmed the shot, practically going insane.

They started screaming, jumping around, and aggressively pushing a laughing Mikha back and forth. One of the teammates even started waving her team towel in the air like a flag, while another was doing a dramatic heart sign over Mikha's head.

Mikha was completely helpless, covering her face with her towel as her own teammates entirely derailed her serious post-game interview.

Even the courtside reporter was finding them absolutely amusing, completely giving up on trying to maintain order.

"Sino?!" the reporter asked, holding the microphone out toward Colet, still laughing uproariously at the team's chaotic energy.

"Shoutout na lang po sa girlfriend ko at sa kaibigan niya! Hi Aiah... and Jho." Colet shouted back mischievously, not directly answering the question before Mikha playfully shoved her out of the frame, her face completely flushed on screen as she tried—and failed—to regain her cool athlete persona.

Right on cue, Sheena, their energetic libero, saw her opening and immediately took her spot right beside the reporter. She grabbed the microphone with zero hesitation, looking straight into the camera with a hilariously serious face.

"Alamin niyo na lang po," Sheena said, shaking her head dramatically. "Basta ang masasabi ko lang bilang taga-Taft... kung dati 'Animo La Salle,' ngayon po ang sigaw ni Mikha, 'A-ni-mo-re updates pa po diyan tungkol sakan'ya.'"

"Sheena, stop it!" Mikha's voice could be heard yelping from the background before she physically dragged her libero out of the frame by her jersey, leaving the reporter laughing hysterically as the broadcast transitioned back to the main anchors.

The car went dead silent.

Neither Maloi nor Jhoanna spoke for exactly three seconds, the sudden quiet in the vehicle heavy and suffocating compared to the loud, cheering stadium they had just left.

On the dashboard screen, the broadcast transitioned back to the main anchors, but nobody was paying attention to it anymore.

Maloi slowly lowered her hands, her jaw slightly slack as she stared at the screen, then slowly whipped her head around to look at Aiah in the backseat.

Jhoanna’s laughter died instantly before it could even leave her throat. Her hands froze on the steering wheel, her eyes wide as she locked eyes with Aiah through the rearview mirror.

Aiah, on the other hand, was just like them—completely paralyzed.

She buried her face in her hands, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.

Right then, her phone buzzed in her lap.

Aiah nervously cleared her screen. It was a direct message on Instagram.

mj: please don't listen to ate Colet and Sheena. I promise I'm going to ground them both tomorrow.

Aiah stared at the words, her breath hitching slightly. The playful atmosphere in the car seemed to fade into a blur as she read Mikha's message again.

Before she could even begin to type a reply, her phone buzzed one more time.

mj: also I'm sorry about the photo. and yung sa split-screen kanina. I wasn't trying to complicate things for you.