Bigger Than The Program

[The JZA]

[supahotfire]

ez$

[Soapy]

ring him

[Agent]

24 first downs tottenville’s defense was WORE OUT

[The JZA]

Welcome To The House Of Black
(SZN 1 , EPI 16)

December 4th, 2026.

The date had stopped being an ordinary square on the calendar. It had become a destination. One more trip to Brooklyn. One more football game. One more Friday with helmets lined beneath fluorescent locker-room lights and Coach Lloyd standing somewhere close enough to remind them how much remained unfinished.

Except this one would be different.

The John F. Kennedy Campus Knights were going to the PSAL 4A State Championship.

It would take place at Midwood High School. Neutral ground on paper, but Brooklyn in reality. And across from them would be the Erasmus Hall Dutchmen. Of all the teams Kennedy could have seen waiting at the end of the road, Erasmus was the one nobody could pretend not to respect.

13 games. 13 wins. 12 wins in league play. In other words: undefeated.

The Dutchmen had made championship football feel routine. Four PSAL 4A titles over the previous five seasons. Curtis had interrupted the streak in 2024, but otherwise Erasmus had spent the better part of half a decade treating December like an annual reservation at a steakhouse.

Kennedy had not won a title since 2000. 26 years. Five championships existed in the school’s history, but none of the players standing inside the locker room had been alive to witness any other them. 26 years of close calls, bad seasons, good seasons that ended too early with injuries and quarterfinal exits. Cortez had lived several versions of that history during four years of varsity football. He had been thrown into the fire before he belonged there and came out burned. Then came sophomore year, junior year, the summers where he rebuilt himself again and again. Everything had led to the first win of the season over Tottenville to this one game.

Cortez sat on the metal bench inside the locker room with his shoulder pads still on. Sweat had cooled beneath his undershirt. Somebody two lockers down was laughing too loudly. A pair of gloves flew across the room and hit somebody in the face. Nobody cared, because they had made it.

Coach Lloyd stood near the middle of the locker room waiting for the noise to settle naturally. But eventually, he lifted his voice over it.

"I can't tell you all how proud I am." A few conversations died immediately. Others followed.

Players turned toward him. Coach Lloyd paced in a small circle, still carrying the energy of the game. His eyes moved from one face to another.

Freshmen. Sophomores. Juniors. Seniors who had just earned one more game together.

"Each and every one of you, you made this night happen. You made next week's game promising. You all earned the right to call yourselves, "state championship finalist." Coach Lloyd pauses as he carried his gaze through the gazes of his players. "But 'finalist' isn't what we put all that work in this season for, right?"

A couple voices answered. "no, sir".

Coach Lloyd stared at them. That wasn’t what he wanted.

"I said, 'finalist' isn't what we put all that work in for, right?!"

The room answered properly this time.

"NO, SIR!!"

Coach Lloyd nodded. "That's what I'm talking about."

He let the room settle again.

"I've been here for 16 years, and I have to say, I've never coached a more promising bunch of young men like you all."

His eyes moved around the room and eventually landed on Cortez. Cortez sat up a little straighter without meaning to.

"You all have so much talent and potential. Those who are going to further their career at the next level, know that I will be following you all, all the way. You are a product of Anderson Lloyd, by way of John F. Kennedy Campus Knights. And I can't wait to see the path you all take onwards to greatness."

The players clapped. Cortez joined them.

Coach Lloyd had spent years kicking their asses and then acting surprised whenever they complained about it. He could turn one missed assignment into ten minutes of practice nobody had asked for. He remembered mistakes from games two seasons earlier and brought them up whenever somebody got too comfortable. But he remembered the good too. Coach Lloyd believed in them before there was much evidence supporting the decision. Before Cortez had stars beside his name. Before college coaches started calling for anyone of the seniors. Before Kennedy had become a legitimate championship team.

He had seen something.

"Next week is the big game. Ten days from now..." Coach Lloyd looked around the room.

"Enjoy yourselves over the Thanksgiving holiday period. Relax, recover, put on a little weight, do some personal training or whatever. But come Monday, we lock in and we stay locked in until the final whistle of the state championship game! Cause Erasmus ain't gonna know what hit them!"

That brought the noise back.

Coach Lloyd raised his fist.

The nearest players crowded toward him. Other arms went up. Hands landed on shoulders and backs until the team became one connected mass in the middle of the locker room as the team shouted in comradery

"Knights!"

They broke apart clapping. Players started stripping off uniforms, tossing tape toward garbage cans and missing, discussing Thanksgiving plans and Erasmus in the same breath. Cortez stayed seated for another minute.

Ten days. It sounded long, too long. He wanted Erasmus now. Not because he believed Kennedy would run through them. Nobody with eyes believed that. Erasmus was real, but that made Cortez want it more.

13-0. 4 state championship titles in the last 5 seasons. A school accustomed to winning against one that had spent 26 years waiting.

Neutral field or not, Midwood was still Brooklyn. Erasmus would not have to travel far. Their people would fill sections. Alumni would show up. Families. Students. Kennedy would be entering somebody else’s borough again.

Good.

Cortez looked around. His teammates were smiling. Some looked back at him and slapped his shoulder pads as they passed.

He felt the weight, the team, the school. His last high-school season.

The colleges watching. One championship performance could change somebody’s life. A receiver who had gotten mild interest could suddenly earn a call. A lineman could get film in front of the right coach. A defender could make one play somebody remembered.

Cortez already had options. Real options. Ohio State, Oregon, and Notre Dame.

Those three had climbed above everything else. There had been a time when Cortez wrote famous programs into his notes because dreaming didn’t cost anything. Now some of those programs were writing him back.

Ohio State and Notre Dame carried history like another piece of equipment. National brands. Winning expectations. They were programs where losing two games could make people question the direction of civilization.

Oregon felt different. Newer in its aura. Flashier. A program built around evolution, speed, facilities that looked like they belonged twenty years in the future.

Three choices. Three hats, eventually... Cortez wasn’t ready for that problem yet.

He had to get through California first. Thanksgiving this year was with strangers that claimed they were family. A branch of family he had somehow lived seventeen years without knowing...



———————————————



Packing started days early before the semifinals game. Lauri packed like they were relocating, dumping what she deemed as preparations for the four-day getaway. Cortez packed like somebody who would rather discover he forgot something than spend forty minutes deciding whether he needed it. Antonio watched both approaches with entertainment. He was excited for them, maybe more than they were.

California was new.

New people. New family. New surroundings. Cortez could use it, and Lauri probably could too. Things between them had improved only slightly after the Jennessa situation. They weren’t frozen anymore, but they weren’t completely themselves either. There were conversations they hadn’t finished. Evelyn existed inside another uneasy truce with both children.

For Thanksgiving, the three agreed to leave the mess in New York.

Not solve it. Leave it. Temporarily.

Antonio drove them to JFK International early Wednesday morning. The roads were already alive with static traffic. Headlights cut through the pre-dawn darkness while Lauri leaned against the back seat half awake. Evelyn checked her phone repeatedly, making sure nothing had changed with the flight.

Beverly had handled everything.

Direct to LAX—No connection.

Antonio unloaded the bags at the terminal, and hugged them all. Well wishes, safe travels and reminders, the usual things people said before flights. Then Cortez, Lauri and Evelyn disappeared through the airport.

6 Hours in the air was enough for the novelty to wear off. Cortez slept some, then watched the skies part of the way. He thought about Erasmus more than he wanted. About how the game would turn out, who would show, and who's still scouting.

Lauri had a worse experience. Turbulence made her stomach reconsider every life decision that had led to boarding an airplane. By the time the wheels touched Los Angeles, she looked personally offended by aviation.

Cortez laughed at her, quietly. He still valued his life.

After unboarding, they collected luggage and followed Evelyn through LAX. The airport moved like New York with palm trees somewhere outside. People dragged suitcases in every direction. Drivers held signs. Families blocked walking lanes while greeting each other. Announcements disappeared beneath conversation and rolling luggage. Cortez looked around more than necessary as much as Lauri. Neither wanted to look impressed.

California felt different immediately, even before they actually reached California outside the terminal.

Evelyn wasn’t sightseeing, she was searching. Her pace slowed once, then stopped. Cortez followed her eyes. A woman stood near a tall man. The woman had both hands near her face. For a second, nobody moved, then she did. Evelyn picked up her pace. The resemblance became obvious the closer they got. Beverly looked like Evelyn after somebody changed a few settings. Same family structure in the face. Same eyes. Similar smile. But Beverly was fuller through the body, carrying herself with the softness of somebody who had filled out with age rather than been worn thin by it.

20 years disappeared in about 3 seconds.

"Oh my god! You're finally here! I can't believe it!" Beverly wrapped Evelyn up.

The hug wasn’t polite, it was the kind where both people stopped caring about the world around them and lived in the moment. Evelyn held her just as hard. Cortez had rarely seen his mother disappear emotionally into another person like that.

Beverly’s eyes were wet when they pulled back before the tall man stepped in.

"It's so good to see you, Eve, it's been far too long."

His hug was gentler. Then his attention shifted beyond Evelyn, toward Cortez and Lauri.

"I know these ain't the two who I think they are, is it?"

Evelyn turned. Something proud entered her face. "Yeah, these are my babies!"

Cortez noticed it, but he didn’t say anything.

Beverly looked between them, then gasped. "No way! These can't be! Cortez and Lauri?!"

She went to Cortez first. He had enough warning to open his arms.

Beverly hugged him as if he had returned from a war nobody told him he had fought. "Look at you two! I haven't seen either of you since you were babies!!"

Then Lauri got it worse. Beverly wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close. Lauri’s first reaction was surprise, then she melted into it.

"Oh, and this one here, looking just like her Mama!"

Beverly pulled back enough to look at her properly. "You remind me of Evelyn so much when she was little. So small and skinny, but had such soft and beautiful eyes and brows... and this hair!"

Her hand went toward Lauri’s hair with automatic aunt privileges.

Lauri smiled. Not the 'fake' social-media smile, not even the one she used when adults complimented her and she wanted to look confident. A smaller one, almost shy.

Cortez saw it.

Lauri had always acted like affection was something she could take or leave. But it wasn’t. She wanted family, a real family. The kind that was excited when you entered a room.

The tall man gave Beverly enough time before stepping closer. "Hey, I'm Robert, Bev's husband. It's great to meet you two."

He shook Cortez’s hand, Cortez returned it firmly.

Robert felt the grip and laughed. "Go easy on me youngin', I can't compete with that national arm."

Cortez looked at him. "You know who I am?"

"Mhm, sure do. People back home in New York ain't the only ones buzzing about you ariund the water cooler."

That did something to him. Recruiting had gotten strange. People 3,000 miles away knew him. Some knew his stats, some knew his ranking. Apparently family members he had never met did too.

Robert turned toward Lauri. She skipped the handshake and hugged him. He accepted it easily.

Beverly looked around the terminal.

"I know there's so, so much to catch up on, but lets get you guys back home and settled in. I can imagine how intolerable 6 hours on the flight could have been."

She turned toward Robert. "Sweetheart, be a dear and grab Eve's things for her and let's go. The last thing we need is another ticket."

They headed toward the exit as conversation came in pieces. The flight, weather, how long they were staying.

Outside, the air felt wrong for late November to Cortez. New York had trained his body to expect something harsher.

They followed Robert toward a black 2025 Mercedes-Benz AMG GLS 63. Cortez knew enough about cars to understand the number attached to one.

Lauri understood wealth on sight. She stopped and gave a low whistle.

"Dayum, Unc!" The title came naturally. Lauri pointed loosely toward the SUV. "L.A. got y'all cruising around like that?"

Robert continued toward the trunk. "My boy got me cruising around like that."

Lauri’s head turned. "Y'all got kids?"

She looked toward Beverly immediately.

"Just one." Beverly looked at her sister. "Sis, you didn't tell them we had a child?"

"No. I figured I'd let it be a little surprise for them."

Cortez raised an eyebrow.

The entire trip had been built around surprises. An unknown aunt, unknown uncle and unknown cousin.

Beverly caught him looking.

She winked. "Don't worry, he's excited to meet you."

After they loaded into the Mercedes, the GPS claimed 45 minutes would be the duration. Los Angeles disagreed. Cortez had heard about L.A. traffic. Cars filled lanes that seemed to multiply without helping. Motorcycles slipped between them. The skyline disappeared and returned. Something suburban and urban flashed between each other like state lines. Cortez watched through the window. California unfolded in fragments. Signs he had only seen during TV shows or video games if they depicted it right. Palm trees, hills, buildings spread farther apart than New York allowed. Eventually they moved toward Sunset Boulevard and curved around UCLA.

Cortez looked longer there for what he could see. The campus had once been on one of his dream lists back in his sophomore and junior year. But UCLA had never called.

That was recruiting. Sometimes you liked them more than they liked you.

He watched the campus disappear behind them. The ride continued through Beverly Hills.

That changed the conversation.

The Mercedes had already told Cortez and Lauri that Beverly and Robert were doing well, the neighborhood began suggesting another category entirely. Trousdale Estates. Cortez looked through one side. Lauri looked through the other. The houses didn’t look like houses. They looked like the places people rented for music videos to pretend they owned. High walls, long driveways, architecture designed around views regular people paid to see on vacation.

Cortez had grown up understanding money mostly through its absence.

Bills. Rent. Groceries. Overtime.

Antonio stretching resources while pretending he wasn’t, and Evelyn working twelve-hour shifts. The difference between needing something and having something fall in your lap immediately.

Lauri understood it as well. They knew 'getting it out the mud' was the only code the streets taught them to survive. But this was something else.

On some 'Fresh Prince of Bel-Air' type shit.

The Mercedes climbed toward a property perched along the Santa Monica hills. The driveway opened, then the house appeared.

Lauri sat forward, even Evelyn looked shocked. The place sat against the hillside with Los Angeles spread beneath it.

Robert parked and turned to look at Cortez and Lauri. "Now, I don't want y'all to get the wrong impressions, we don't live here. We're rich, but we're not this damn rich."

That explanation did almost nothing. Cortez looked at Lauri. Lauri looked at Cortez. Rich but not this rich was a distinction neither had much experience making.

Before Robert had finished moving toward the trunk, the front door opened. A young boy appeared. He saw the Mercedes, then the group that came out of it. He turned toward the inside of the house.

"Stephen! They're back!"

Footsteps followed somewhere beyond him. A man stepped through the doorway.

Tall, dark-skinned, wearing a black suit and white gloves. Dude had broad shoulders, muscular enough that calling him a butler felt like an insult.

Evelyn noticed. Cortez noticed Evelyn noticing. Lauri noticed everybody.

The little boy ran toward Robert and jumped into his arms.

The suited man approached the group. "Hello, Master Robert and Madam Beverly," His polite British accent caught Cortez and Lauri off guard. "I see you all have returned safe and sound."

The man’s attention shifted toward the three newcomers. "Oh, and who might these three very young and dapper lot be, guest for the evening?"

Evelyn smiled, a little too much.

Beverly handled the introduction. "These are my family from New York,"

The man bowed. "A very well met to you all, I'm Stephen Artrelle, senior butler of the residence. It'll be my gracious pleasure to serve you for the duration of your stay."

Lauri nearly looked around to see whether cameras were hidden somewhere.

Stephen moved toward the luggage. Cortez started to help, but Stephen made it clear through polite insistence that the assistance wasn’t required.

Evelyn leaned toward Beverly, her voice lowered. "Why didn't you tell me y'all had a butler chiseled out of marble?"

Beverly snickered. "You ain't change a bit I see, even after two kids."

Evelyn gave her a look.

Robert was still holding the young boy.

The kid studied Cortez and Lauri without pretending otherwise. "Who are they?"

Robert shifted him higher. "those are your cousins. That's Cortez,"

Cortez lifted a hand, giving a small wave.

"And that's his sister, Lauri."

"Sup!"

Lauri lifted her chin.

The kid answered immediately.

"Sup!"

Lauri laughed tentatively. "I like him, He's a cutie!"

They started toward the house. Cortez followed and pulled the front door shut behind him after everyone entered.

Something was bothering him as he looked at Robert. "Uncle Robert, just how old are you, boss?"

Robert looked back.

"Aunt Beverly said y'all had a son, I didn't think y'all was this late in the game having kids." Cortez tried to keep the question light.

The answer came from somewhere deeper inside the house.

"That's because that little scrap belongs to me." Footsteps came up from what appeared to be a lower level.

"What's up, y'all? Y'all finally made it."

Cortez turned. The man walking toward them wore a white BMX T-shirt, khaki shorts and slippers.

Casual, like this was a regular Wednesday.

Cortez knew the face before his mind accepted the context.

He stared, then laughed once. A small, confused sound.

"Ayo... Wait a minute, this some kind of joke, right?" He looked toward Beverly.

She was smiling.

Cortez pointed toward the man approaching them. "This your son? For real, for real?"

Beverly nodded. Cortez looked back.

Recks Black. Not somebody who resembled Recks Black, or someone using CGI for a online gag.

But 'thee' Recks Black.

4-time NBA champion, 3-time MVP, and 3-time Finals MVP. The Los Angeles Lakers point guard. One of Cortez’s favorite players. Apparently his cousin.

Recks crossed the foyer wearing a smirk that said he had already expected this reaction. "Yeah, for real, for real. Surprise."

He extended a fist. "What's good, fam? You look like you just saw a ghost." He says cheekily.

Cortez reached out to reciprocate. His brain remained about ten seconds behind everything else, yet Lauri finally processed it.

"Yo, hold up!" Her eyes went wide. "This is Recks Black? THE Recks Black?"

She slapped Cortez on the arm. " Bro, why you ain't tell me we related to a whole MVP?"

Cortez pulled away from the sting. "What you asking me for?! I'm today-years-old learning this."

Lauri laughed, rolling her eyes. Nervousness lived underneath it, but she recovered quickly. "This is crazy! Yo, we literally watched drop 82 points on Trae Young's bucket head last year!"

Recks smiled.

"You caught a lot of nasty flack for that."

"Yeah, I know. Bam felt that same energy when he dropped 83 last season. I'm just more tight that my record didn't live a full 365 days before he dropped those points."

He shook his head and let his arms fall.

Cortez kept looking at him. Not intentionally, but it was difficult not to. There were athletes who felt distant because television flattened them into something unreal.

Recks was standing in the flesh, in slippers. The illusion was having a hard time surviving.

Evelyn stepped forward. Her reaction carried something different, more casual. She made it clear it was family before celebrity. She hugged Recks tightly and held him long enough for the room to settle around them.

"Boy, look at you! Last time I saw you, you were just a baby in a photo. But seeing you in person? Chile, you are tall and grown like your daddy!" She pulled back and looked at him, then toward the little boy in Robert’s arms.

"And you got a whole baby boy now? My nephew's a father? I'm officially old."

Recks laughed and put an arm around Evelyn’s shoulder. "You old? Then I'm right up there with you. That's my little man—Kairos. I got three more upstairs taking a nap with their mother. Wild, right?"

"How's Khyri doing?" Beverly looked toward Recks. "I know she said she wasn't feeling too good this morning, think that stomach virus been going around."

"Hopefully she'll feel better a in few hours. I just gave her some meds."

Cortez’s eyebrows went up again. Khyri. There were a lot of people named Khyri, but there was one his mind immediately went to.

"Hold up, Khyri? As in, Khyri Blu from the W?" He looked at Recks. "Yo man, I thought all that noise was rumors. Mans got a whole family with the best player in the WNBA. What world of greed am I living in?"

Recks folded his arms. "Yuppers, that Khyri Blu."

Cortez shook his head. Of course, why stop at one professional athlete?

"Rumors were half-right. We kept the wedding quiet, but the kids? Man, they've been the loudest part of our lives for years now. She gave me three more to run around the block with, so greed ain't the word for it—more like blessed chaos."

Recks glanced toward the stairs. Stephen was returning after settling the luggage inside guest rooms.

"She's upstairs right now fighting off something. Trust me, she's way tougher than me on that end. Y'all come fall through in the living room before she drags herself out here and steal the spotlight."

He gestured them toward the living room. Recks had looked toward Stephen before bringing his attention to his family. "Hey, Stephen, can you hook Khyri up with that scented tea that she likes on the bedside, just in case she wants something when she gets up?"

Stephen nodded. "Certainly, I'll have it made immediately." He disappeared again into the kitchen to fulfill the request.

Cortez followed everyone into the living room, taking in the scenic view.

"This place is phat."

It was the first description that came to him. The room stretched beneath a high, arching roof that reminded him of pictures of old longhouses, as if Vikings had discovered luxury real estate and hired an interior designer. Furniture occupied different conversation spaces without making the room feel crowded. A long chair, two individual seats, a sectional sofa, a coffee table sitting slightly off-center across layered rugs. A fireplace on the far end with it's own uniquely built lair. Tall windows covered most of the outer wall. Beyond them sat a pool and a centered jacuzzi. The city of Los Angeles spread below them. Lights had begun appearing across the city as afternoon weakened. Another seating area sat farther over. Two cushioned chairs with a small shared table. Another sectional angled toward the windows. Outside, the hills faded into the distance beneath thin California haze. A giant weeping tree bent near the edge of the property, its branches moving slowly.

Late November in Los Angeles didn’t look like late November anywhere Cortez understood.

Lauri dropped onto the sectional and the cushion swallowed her farther than expected.

She looked down and around herself trying to figure out how to reposition before looking around the room again. "Nah, 'phat' don't even cover it. This ain't a living room, this is a whole resort with a roof."

She slapped the cushion beside her as she looked toward Recks, welcoming him as if it was her place.

"Yo, Recks, be real with me—do you ever just walk around this place at three in the morning questioning your life choices, or is that just a me thing?"

Recks chuckled.

Then the chuckle became real laughter. "You simply have no idea, cuz, you really don't."

Cortez took a seat. For the first time since landing, he stopped moving.

Stephen returned eventually after handling Khyri’s tea, serving finger food and soft drinks.

Beverly sat beside Evelyn. The sisters leaned toward one another while they talked, falling into rhythms that twenty years had apparently failed to erase.

Robert settled comfortably into a space he already knew.

Kairos moved between adults without the awkwardness of a child surrounded by strangers because, to him, nobody seemed to remain a stranger long.

Lauri sat deeper in the couch asking questions, trying not to look like a 'Little Shop of Horror' victim.

Cortez mostly listened. He looked at Beverly, then Evelyn. Two sisters that came from the same beginning, walking down different roads. Both had come from the Moore family, born out of wedlock. Raised around the old Polo Grounds during the seventies and eighties.

Cortez knew almost none of it. That bothered him more now.

Evelyn had an entire life before Derrick Terrano, before Antonio became the person cleaning up behind Derrick’s absence. Before Cortez, before Lauri. Somewhere inside that life was Beverly.

Beverly met Robert Black. The road bent west and success followed. Business, money, their son became Recks Black. Recks built his own branch of the family with Khyri Blu and four children running through a house that overlooked Los Angeles.

The House of Black.

Next to Beverly sat the other branch, Evelyn.

Derrick Terrano and whatever outcome came with that. The Abandonment. Antonio stepping in when he shouldn't have. 12-hour shifts, then whatever free time she could afford when to home health aide. Small apartments that barely could contain heat during cold winters. Money counted before grocery runs.

Cortez spending summers trying to turn himself into a quarterback somebody outside the Bronx might notice. Lauri turning cameras, outfits and internet attention into the beginning of something she hoped would become a career.

The House of Terrano.

One family had found the sunlight while the other learned how to work in the dark.

Cortez looked through the windows. The city below was beginning to glow. He had spent some time imagining wealth through football. A scholarship. A NIL deal. Making it to the NFL if he was good enough. Enough money to put Antonio somewhere he didn’t have to repair other people’s cars unless he wanted to. Enough for Lauri to create without worrying about whether the next opportunity paid. Enough to make sure Evelyn never had to take another twelve-hour shift. Money had always been attached to escape.

Sitting inside Recks Black’s house changed the picture slightly. This wasn’t escape, it was continuation.

Robert had built a foundation for success. Recks had taken it farther. His children would begin from somewhere neither Cortez nor Lauri had ever known existed.

That didn’t make their own upbringing less valuable. It made the difference impossible to ignore.

Lauri laughed at something Beverly said. Evelyn joined her.

Cortez watched his mother. She looked younger around her sister. Something about the way she sat, like her shoulders weren’t as tight. She didn’t look like she was preparing for somebody to disappoint her. Maybe Beverly remembered a version of Evelyn that existed before everything hardened. Cortez wondered what that girl had been like. He glanced toward Lauri. She was looking at Beverly with open interest, asking about family members and places Cortez had never heard mentioned. For once, the tension between Lauri and Evelyn wasn’t sitting between them. It had stayed in New York, or at least for the afternoon.

Somewhere else in the house were Khyri and three more children Cortez hadn’t met yet. Recks sat a few feet away as if his face wasn’t hanging on billboards around Los Angeles.

His cousin. That part still sounded ridiculous inside Cortez’s head.

Ten days from now, Cortez would play for a state championship. Soon after that, he would have to decide which university deserved the next years of his life.

Ohio State. Oregon. Notre Dame.

Perhaps something from California would complicate the list.

For months, every new opportunity had felt like Cortez’s world expanding. Recruiters. Campuses. Maria. The playoffs. Now he understood his world had always been larger, just that nobody had bothered showing him the entire map.

Beverly and Evelyn continued talking. Robert laughed. Kairos climbed onto furniture he probably wasn’t supposed to before Recks grabbed him up and powerbombed him safely on the couch and tickled him like nothing else in the world mattered. Lauri looked completely at home after less than an hour.

Cortez sat back, lost in thoughts as his eyes took in the new world before him.

There would be time for questions. There would be time to learn what happened between two sisters who had gone 20 years without standing in the same room. Why Evelyn had never talked about them. Why Beverly’s family had become strangers. Why Recks could spend an entire career on television without Cortez ever knowing they shared blood.

Those answers could wait. For now, family occupied the same room.

Two houses. Two histories. One bloodline...

[The JZA]

ez$

ring him

24 first downs tottenville’s defense was WORE OUT

Man I hope EA didn't butcher the supersim already lol Everything was looking good until that game. But I wasn't in the state of mind to do it all over again, not for a filler lol

[redsox907]

oh shit we got some crossover loading

[The JZA]

The Late Night Show With Khyri Blu
(SZN 1 , EPI 17)

Three in the morning in Beverly Hills did not feel like three in the morning anywhere Cortez understood. Back home, 3 A.M. sat close enough to morning for him to start negotiating with sleep. Depending on the day, he might already be awake. School meant the beginning of a routine that had hardened over years. Weekend training meant pulling on sweats before the sun arrived, washing his face in cold water, and getting his legs moving before his brain had enough time to complain. California had knocked all of that sideways. Three hours disappeared somewhere over the country during the flight, and his body hadn’t agreed to the transaction. So Cortez stood barefoot near the edge of the pool while almost everybody else inside slept.

The house behind him had gone dark in sections. A soft exterior light stayed on near the patio doors. Another glowed beneath the overhang farther along the pool. The water moved lightly whenever the filter disturbed it, breaking the reflected house lights into thin, trembling pieces. Beyond the property, Los Angeles spread down and away from him in the distance. That was the part he still hadn’t gotten used to.

From up here, the city looked manageable. Tiny.

Headlights crawled along distant roads. Buildings rose in clusters. Somewhere down there were bars closing, kitchens being cleaned, security guards switching shifts, people arguing inside cars, somebody coming home too late, somebody else leaving too early. Life just reduced enough to make it look harmless. Cortez leaned both forearms against the railing. The first few hours inside the house had been overwhelming. By midnight, some of the celebrity shine had started wearing off. Recks stopped looking like the four-time champion Cortez had watched on television and started looking like the man who checked whether his kids had eaten before he sat down. The man who asked where one of Kairos’ missing shoes had gone. The husband who went upstairs three times to check on Khyri even after she told him she was fine. Private life had done what highlight packages couldn’t. It made him normal.

The realization should have allowed Cortez to sleep, but his thoughts had followed him three thousand miles. Jennessa lying in a hospital bed while the person who stabbed her still unidentified. The championship game waiting after Thanksgiving with Erasmus Hall. National Signing Day weeks away. Maria and her mother, Yu-Ni. And Lauri, the person closest to him had somehow become the thing he thought about most carefully.

He hated that.

A sound behind him interrupted the cycle. Soft footsteps padded against the stone clearance around the pool. Cortez turned his head seeing Khyri had stepped out with a thick cream-colored throw wrapped around her shoulders. Her blue hair looked less deliberate than it did in every photograph Cortez had ever seen. Sleep had pushed sections in different directions. No makeup, just heavy eyes from being drained. Still, unmistakably her. She stopped several feet behind him.

"Thought I was the only one who couldn't sleep. ¿Qué haces out here looking like you're about to monologue in a drama film?"

Cortez raised an eyebrow. He turned back toward the city. The insects did most of the talking for a few seconds.

"You know how it is. Every villain needs a star-gazing city to look down upon as he question his morals and potential impact on humanity before the screen writers gives him a massive plot armor motive before the cinematic climax."

Khyri laughed quietly. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself and walked to the edge of the pool beside him.

"Ay, Dios mío. You really are dramatic. I thought Recks was bad." She looked at him for a second.

Cortez caught it in his peripheral vision and smiled. "How're you feeling? Recks made it seem like you were down for the count earlier today."

Khyri waved one hand dismissively. The blanket slipped from her shoulder. She caught it and pulled it back up. "Please. I've played through a sprained MCL. A little stomach bug isn't taking me out permanently. Had to rally for the kids, you know?"

She looked back over the city. "But I'm a'ight now. Tea helped. Recks hovering over me like I'm made of glass? Not so much."

"Strangely I can imagine you waking up to bright lights and the first you see is his nostrils bearing down on you."

Cortez chuckled a bit, picturing the image in his head. "But glad you're better." Cortez returned his attention to the dark hills for a moment. "So tell me something, how do you do all this? This... quietness?"

Khyri tilted her head.

"Honestly? I don't always. Some nights I miss the noise. Grew up in Fresno with my parents' house always full. My Tia and Tíos, primos, music playing, someone yelling about something breaking. Then college dorms, then arenas packed with thousands of people screaming. The quiet is... weird."

She paused. "But I got three little ones who wake up at the crack of dawn ready to cause problems. Recks always got some idea he wants to run by me. Kairos needs help with homework. So the quiet don't last long."

"That's a lot of normalcy." Cortez folded his arms. He rocked lightly from one foot to the other.

"I haven't been here a full day and I can't hear my thoughts calm down. It's like... time is standing still from this vantage point... Then you look down and see the tiny dots moving along, reminding you life is still carrying on... Living in the city, I'm not afforded this perspective."

Khyri followed his gaze to the cars that moved along the freeways below. From this distance, traffic lost its frustration.

"But you're not in the city right now, Cortez. You're up here. Maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe your thoughts need the space to... I dunno. Breathe."

A smirk came onto her face. "Or maybe you just need to stop standing out here like Batman and go get some sleep."

Cortez looked behind himself at the pool. "All this money I'm standing on? I wouldn't be surprised if the pool behind us tunneled down to a bat cave!"

He shook his head. "Cause I did a bit of googling and you gotta be PAID to be living out here in this neighborhood. And my mom had the audacity to spring all this on us."

Khyri laughed louder than she probably intended. "Ay, your mom is something else. Recks told me about the whole surprise reveal. Said he saw your face and thought you were gonna pass out right there in the doorway."

Cortez lowered his chin toward his chest. He sighed through the laugh. "He's just like Lauri, the imagination runs wild on this side of the family. Your boy Recks ain't no Michael Jackson... But I was stunned."

He pinched his thumb and index finger nearly together. "Just a smidge."

"A smidge," Khyri stared at him flatly. "Uh-huh. Sure. Recks said your jaw was on the floor and you kept looking at Mami Bev like she'd grown a second head."

Cortez said nothing. That was more accurate than he wanted to admit.

Khyri adjusted the blanket beneath her chin. "But I get it. Finding out your cousin is who he is? That's a lot. I remember when I first met Recks at fourteen. Thought he was just some cocky kid from the neighborhood who talked too much. Then I saw him play. Ay, Dios mío. Had to eat my words real quick."

Cortez glanced at her. The way she said it changed her face slightly.

"Oh yeah?" He turned a little more toward her with undivided attention. "What was he like back then?"

Khyri gave a quiet snort. "Insufferable. Absolutely insufferable. He had this... swagger, you know? Like he already knew he was gonna be somebody before anybody else figured it out. Walked into the gym like he owned it. Talked trash to everybody — coaches included."

Something softer entered her voice. "But he backed it up. Every single time. You couldn't even be mad at him 'cause he'd drop forty points on you and then turn around and help you fix your jumper. Annoying as hell, but genuine."

Cortez grinned. "Bro was that nice while I was coming up outta diapers, huh? Or was the talent pool in Fresno that dry?"

Khyri turned sharply. "First of all, watch your mouth about Fresno. We produced talent."

"Aight! My bad!" Cortez raised both hands, conceding.

"Secondly, you're only like what, four years younger than him? You were probably in elementary school."

She readjusted the blanket. "But yeah. He was that nice. Still is. Don't tell him I said that though. His head's already big enough."

"Nah, he's like, 10 years older than me. I'm 17... So, I was like 3 or 4 at the time, maybe."

Khyri’s eyebrows rose. She turned toward him fully. "Wait, hold up. 17? Damn, what they're feeding you in New York?"

The look she gave him changed. A fresh assessment, then a grin. "Ay, no me jodas. You're out here at 3 A.M., brooding like a grown man with a mortgage and you're still in high school?"

She laughed. "Okay, yeah. You were definitely still in diapers. My bad, primo."

Cortez side-eyed her. "So, the blue hair does compensate for something."

Khyri shoved him hard enough. Cortez moved with the contact and laughed. It was easy being around her, which surprised him. Maybe because Khyri had none of the formal energy he expected from somebody famous. She spoke to him like they had already known each other longer than a day. Sharp one second. Warm the next. There was something familiar about that. The women in Cortez’s family had rarely believed in speaking softly when louder worked.

"¡Cállate! My hair is a statement, not a cry for help!" Khyri looked satisfied with herself.

She moved toward one of the poolside loungers and sat, pulling the blanket tight around her body. "But you're deflecting. Seventeen years old, standing out here at three in the morning like you got the weight of the world on your shoulders. ¿Qué pasa? What's really keeping you up?"

The humor left Cortez by degrees. He shoved both hands into his pockets. "Nothing much that I want to get into seriously—not because I don't know you enough on a personal level."

He shrugged. "Mainly, just my future prospects in colleges, where I wanna go, where I need to be might be best for me. How this'll effect my relationship with people. Nothing heavy."

Khyri nodded quietly, didn’t need to jump on the answer.

"Nah, I get it. That's heavy enough, primo. 17, trying to figure out where you fit in the world, who's coming with you and who's getting left behind. That's real stuff, don't downplay it. I been down that road before."

Cortez stepped closer. "What do you mean?" He leaned against the railing beside the lounger.

Khyri brought her knees beneath the blanket. "Back in 2021. I'd just graduated from USC and went undrafted. I thought my whole career was over before it started. After running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, doing try-outs, Seattle called and signed me. I had to pack up everything, leave Cali, leave Recks, leave everyone I knew, and move to a city where I didn't know a soul. Rained all the damn time. Felt like I was on another planet."

She paused. A small smile came and went. "Then later that year, Recks signed with the 76ers. He'd been nursing an knee injury and getting back in shape. Suddenly we're on opposite ends of the country, both of us trying to prove we belong. I was terrified."

"I can only imagine. Early days had to be rough."

Khyri laughed under her breath. "Rough is putting it nicely, primo. I was crying in my apartment every other night, eating cup noodles 'cause I didn't know how to cook yet, calling my papá like 'I made a mistake, come get me.' But I couldn't quit. Not because I was contractually obligated, I was too stubborn."

Cortez smiled slightly while listening.

"And Recks? He was losing his mind in Philly, but he kept it together better than I did. The different time zone killed me, but both of us was grinding, we was on a mission. We'd FaceTime at weird hours just to hear each other breathe. That's when I knew, though. That we could survive anything."

Cortez nodded then looked out toward the city again. The comparison formed by itself.

"But y'all already had a head start, y'all been in the trenches since you met him years ago. You had all those years to learn someone and grow with before life just came at you different. That support was already there."

Khyri let that sit then nodded. "True. We did. That foundation was already built, so when the storm hit, we weren't starting from scratch. But don't get it twisted—knowing someone since fourteen don't automatically mean you survive long distance, careers, the spotlight, all that pressure. Plenty of people with longer history than us fell apart the second things got hard."

She takes a long look at Cortez before speaking again. "That's what you're really thinking about, isn't it? Not just where you go to college, but who sticks around when you get there."

Cortez looked toward the house. Nothing moved behind the windows as everybody except him and Khyri asleep.

"Nah... It's my sister, Lauri... We've always been tight, two peas in a pod you can say."

His voice had gone lower. "There's other people, but she's the main one I'm concerned about. Things been... a little rocky between us. I wish I could say it's normal brother-sister drama, but it's not."

He looked toward Khyri. She was watching him without interrupting.

"I guess I'm more worried about what the distance would do to our relationship."

There, he had finally said it. Not the photograph, not Jennessa, not the weeks of silence nor the suspicion he still hated himself for carrying. Just the parts underneath all of it, distance and change.

Khyri adjusted herself beneath the blanket. "When Recks and me went long distance... Seattle to Philly... I'm not gonna lie to you and say it was easy. It wasn't. But the foundation was already there. We'd known each other since we was thirteen and fourteen. That don't just disappear 'cause of a few thousand miles. You already know that."

A strand of blue hair had fallen near her face, swiping as much of it out of the way. "Although, distance can do a lot of damage if you let it. Trust me, I know. Recks and I barely made it through a rough patch in my life."

For a moment, Khyri looked toward the house. Something passed through her expression.

Cortez noticed, but didn’t ask. Whatever she had almost said belonged to her.

"But we did... Because we wanted to. Distance tests everything—every crack, every weakness, every unspoken thing you could possibly want to avoid. It's gonna show you what's real and what ain't. So I guess the question is, what are you really afraid of? That the distance will mess things up?"

Cortez didn’t answer immediately. Evelyn had came into his mind. She hadn’t always been the woman he knew now. There were pictures proving that much. Stories too. People changed, and sometimes gradually enough that nobody noticed until years had passed. Jennessa changed, or maybe their relationship did. Maybe both. She told him he had neglected her. He couldn’t completely deny it despite the goalpost movement after she betrayed him. Whatever explanation she preferred, the result stayed the same. Lauri had always been different, his constant. The one relationship Cortez never imagined putting under examination. But the one photograph had been enough to make him look at her differently. That still embarrassed him. Her explanation made sense, but the doubt hadn’t disappeared as quickly as he wanted. And now college waited on the horizon.

"I guess I'm worried how much she'll change." He shifted and faced the city again. "I know it sounds selfish, but I don't want her to switch up on me."

Khyri didn’t answer immediately. When she did, the playfulness was gone. "That ain't selfish, Cortez. That's honest. You're scared she's gonna get wherever she's going and realize she don't need you the same way. Or that the new version of her won't recognize the old version of y'all. I get it. I've been on both sides of that fear."

Cortez swallowed. He had spent so much of his life protecting Lauri that he had never considered what happened when protection became unnecessary. He had always been big brother. Even when Lauri frequently reminded him the title did not make him her father, he walked ahead, watched people, made sure she got home, checked social media, put himself between her and Evelyn. Simply showing up.

"... Any advice you can spare?"

Khyri looked at him briefly. "I can't tell you what to do, primo. That's not my place. But I can tell you what I learned."

She breathed out. The air had cooled enough for the faintest trace to show.

"The people who are supposed to stay? They'll find a way. It won't always be pretty. You'll fight. You'll go weeks without talking. You'll say things you can't take back. But if the foundation is real, the distance won't break it. It just... reveals what was already there."

Cortez listened. No joke came to rescue him from taking it seriously.

"You're scared Lauri's gonna change, but that's a part of life. She's not the same girl she was yesterday coming her. Just like you're not the same guy. What matters most is that you two remain there for each other."

Khyri paused. "I know you love your sister dearly, just by the way talk about her and care about the future version of her. But just like you, she needs to spread her wings, it's the only way she can know if she can fly."

Cortez stayed quiet. He nodded slowly. The answer wasn’t new. He knew Lauri was growing. Her influencer work had stopped being a childish dream years ago. Minor brands had paid attention. People followed her because she had learned how to make them want to see what she did next, and he talked about fashion beyond Instagram. She wanted a world bigger than Kingsbridge Terrace too. Cortez had encouraged it, at least he thought he had as a brother should. But maybe encouragement felt easy when the future stayed hypothetical. It changed once the possibility of leaving became real. His future was opening, so was hers. There would come a day when Lauri stopped being the girl upstairs waiting for him to check on her. Maybe she would live across town, across the country, across an ocean, and there was nothing Cortez could do that would keep her sixteen forever without becoming another person attempting to control her.

Khyri’s hand settled on his shoulder. Cortez looked down at her, the tiredness had returned to her eyes. The stomach bug might not have defeated her, but a little after four in the morning wasn’t helping either. Neither of them needed to say much else. Khyri exchanged good nights then disappeared back into the luxurious home built on the hills that imposed over the city.

Cortez remained outside where the insects reclaimed the silence. He rested both hands along the railing thinking about everything Khyri had said being something he already knew in pieces. Lauri would change, Cortez would too. College would guarantee that he would leave New York. New teammates, new coaches, new classes, new friends. Whatever happened, Kingsbridge Terrace would stop being the center of his daily life. Lauri’s world would keep moving while he was gone. That was what growing up did. It separated people without asking whether they were ready. Cortez had always thought protecting Lauri meant staying close enough to catch whatever came toward her. And maybe that definition had to change. Trusting that everything he had tried to give her over the years had already become part of the person she was.

Back home, the city would be beginning another day while Cortez remained on the other side of the country trying to understand what came next. Cortez stood outside a while longer. For the first time that early morning, his thoughts stopped competing to be heard. The quiet didn’t feel so strange anymore. Maybe Khyri had been right, maybe sometimes thoughts needed room to breathe.

[The JZA]

oh shit we got some crossover loading

It was something I wanted to expand on, but also not want to do. A lot of back and forth with note checking