Fortunately, today was just a qualifying competition, and my opponents were far less skilled than me. Despite battling a headache from lack of sleep, I easily won my matches and secured a spot in the official competition.
What caught my attention more than the competition itself, though, were the people asking for my autograph—my fans, to put it simply. After my match, they surged toward me like a wave, showering me with flattering words that made me blush as they handed me pens and notebooks, asking for signatures.
In the past, Alana would have helped me manage this chaos, but I’d specifically asked her not to come this time. I wanted to stick with my chess club members without appearing too privileged.
So, I kept smiling, mechanically signing my name over and over, shaking hands with
