Intertwined - Tangled series (Overprotective famous brothers)

Qualifiers

The rule was, 8 people per equipment. Oh about almost 100 gymnasts here, who had put in their life into the sport, only 8 would get to finally compete for a medal. Only 8 teams would be allowed in the team finals. It was cruel, but it was the rule.

It was 6 am, and for once, sleep eluded me. I wasn't about to try and fool myself into thinking that tossing and turning on my bed was going to help me. I sighed, and got up. There was nothing to do but warm up a little, wait for the time where we would all be transported to the arena. But that was hours away, and the anxiety was eating me up.

Lauren was deep asleep, which I almost envied her for. I had nothing but music to confide in right now, and the early morning scene at the Olympics Village. It was a funny place, this one. You could run across athletes running and training, or other athletes walking back after a probably wild night. Nevertheless, it had grown on me. I got down to be met by warm smiles and nods, a couple of thumbs up. I wished the people I knew were competing today as well, and set for my tower.

Christ the Redeemer, the symbol of Brazil, stood in the distance as I played my pre-competition playlist and visualised the details. It was a ritual I believed in strongly, simply because it had been proven effective multiple times. I knew people who had the whackiest of traditions - like sniffing onions or not cleaning ear wax for a week. But I wasn't one of them. I had trained my body for years, and this was time to trust myself enough. Whatever happened, I would take it in my stride.

It wasn't long before I had to get back to the gym for morning warm up and stretch, before heading for breakfast. Today we couldn't quite have what we wanted, since the nutritionist had been throwing tantrums about us caring enough about our diet at least before our qualifiers. So here we were, with high energy, organic, and surprisingly not bland food. Christina was having one of her usual hyper-active narrations of something, and just her energy was contagious.

We were getting into the bus for team USA when Mike and Tyson walked in.

"Hey, good luck kiddo. We'll be right in the audience."

"You better be cheering loud." I smiled and hugged them.

"Oh, also, could you maybe tell my family that I know they wish me luck. I know." they smiled, and walked back. Dimitri had taken away all our phones in the morning, to keep us focused. It had helped a lot, of course, because sometimes the pressure through social media creeps up on you. But I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to anyone but Arbaaz since morning, and I knew they were bummed about not reaching me. All of them would be in the audience, and be embarrassingly visible and loud. I just wish I could hug them all.

"Alright girls, let's go!" one assistant coach capped his hands and we huddled together into the bus. As soon as we started off, Dimitri got off his seat and stood in the front of the bus.

"Girls, you probably don't need a pep talk right now, but it's on the checklist."

That did earn him a couple of chuckles, and he looked pleased with himself. Yes, I would say that Dimitri trying his hand at humour was an achievement in itself.

"Remember to breathe. With all the people, cheering, talking. Just take a second to yourself, breathe. Become the person you were when you nailed your first cartwheel, recall the sheer joy of the moment. Strive for that. You've all worked very hard, and you deserve this day. So take control of it, take charge, and go for it."

Dimitri's eyes were burning with passion, and I was sure mine were as well. We thanked him, and he smiled back at us before sitting down. The entire way, people were in their own space. Some spoke to each other, others zoned out and Brittany even took a nap. Everyone had their own way to spend the last few minutes of the time we had to ourselves, before cameras broadcasted us live to the entire world.