Dawn arrived quietly, the way it always had for Elias Moreno—without ceremony, without applause, without expectation.
He woke before the alarm, eyes opening to the pale gray light leaking through the thin curtains of his small apartment. For a moment, he didn't move. He lay there, listening to the familiar sounds: the hum of a distant jeepney, a dog barking somewhere below, the soft ticking of the old wall clock. Life sounded the same.
And yet, everything was different.
The weight of the night before pressed gently against his chest, not heavy, not overwhelming—just real. The draft. The name. The stage. The jersey. It all felt like something that had happened to another man, someone braver, someone luckier. Elias half expected to sit up and find the dream already fading.
He slowly swung his legs off the bed and stood, testing his balance, his knee, his body. Still steady. Still his.
In the kitchen, he prepared coffee the way he always did. No rush. No celebration. He scooped the grounds carefully, poured hot water, waited for the aroma to bloom. This ritual had been his anchor for years—before work, before pickup games, before disappointment. He wasn't ready to change it just because the world suddenly saw him differently.
As the coffee brewed, he stared at the counter, hands resting on its worn surface. He thought of Sofia. He thought of her voice on the phone, calm and steady, telling him to go for it. He smiled faintly.
"Guess I did," he murmured.
He dressed simply—work clothes, clean and familiar. The Buffalo jersey stayed folded carefully in his drawer. That wasn't for today. Today, he was still Elias the waiter.
When he stepped outside his apartment, the morning air felt cooler than usual. The hallway smelled faintly of detergent and old concrete. As he locked his door, a voice surprised him.
"Good morning, Elias!"
He turned. His neighbor, an older man he'd lived beside for years without more than a nod, stood smiling by his doorway.
"Good morning," Elias replied, slightly confused.
"Big night, huh?" the man said, eyes bright. "Saw you on TV. Proud of you."
Elias froze for half a second, then nodded, warmth spreading through him. "Thank you."
As he walked away, keys jingling in his hand, he felt something shift. For the first time, the world outside his apartment acknowledged what had happened. Not with questions. Just with kindness.
The drive to work felt surreal. Traffic lights blinked red and green. Vendors waved from the roadside. Everything moved as it always had, yet Elias felt as though he were watching from behind glass. His hands rested calmly on the steering wheel, but his thoughts raced ahead—to practices, to expectations, to doubt.
When he arrived at King Lao Restaurant, the familiar red-and-gold sign greeted him like an old friend. He parked, took a deep breath, and stepped out.
"Sir Elias!"
Ryan, the security guard, nearly jogged toward him, excitement written all over his face. "Congratulations, sir! Can I—uh—can I get a picture with you?"
Elias laughed softly, taken off guard. "Of course."
Ryan held up his phone, grinning ear to ear. The flash went off.
"Thank you, sir," Ryan said, voice shaking slightly. "My son plays basketball. I told him about you."
Elias nodded, humbled. "Tell him to keep playing."
As he entered the restaurant, the sound hit him all at once.
Applause.
Not loud, not staged—but real.
His coworkers stood between tables, hands clapping, faces smiling. Some customers joined in, others whispered, phones already raised. Elias stopped short, heart pounding.
"Congratulations, Elias!" someone called.
"First pick!" another shouted.
He bowed his head slightly, embarrassed, grateful, overwhelmed. Hands reached out to shake his. A few customers asked for photos. Others simply said thank you—for the service, for the inspiration, for the story they had watched unfold on television.
Then the manager approached him, her expression gentle but serious.
"The owner would like to speak with you," she said. "If you have time."
Elias blinked. "The owner?"
"Yes. He's in the VIP section. With his family."
Surprise tightened his chest. He nodded. "Of course."
The VIP section was quiet, elegant in a way the rest of the restaurant wasn't. Mr. Olivero stood as Elias entered, his wife Carol beside him, their children smiling shyly.
"Elias!" Mr. Olivero said warmly, extending his hand. "Congratulations. We watched the draft together."
"Thank you, sir," Elias replied, bowing slightly out of habit.
"We're very proud of you," Carol added. "Truly."
They invited him to sit. Drinks were poured, untouched for now.
Mr. Olivero studied Elias carefully. "So," he said, "what's the plan now that you're playing in the big league?"
Elias hesitated, then answered honestly. "Right now… I want to keep working here. This place believed in me when no one else did."
The room fell quiet.
Carol smiled first. "That's very kind. But maybe," she said thoughtfully, "your role can change."
She leaned forward. "What if you stayed—not just as a waiter, but as a promotional model? Someone who represents our restaurant. Even when you're playing, you'd still be part of us."
Elias felt his throat tighten. "You'd do that?"
Mr. Olivero nodded. "Loyalty deserves loyalty."
Elias smiled, eyes shining. "I'd be honored."
A knock interrupted them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Olivero," a staff member said, "media people are outside asking for Elias."
Mr. Olivero turned to him. "Do you want to talk to them?"
Elias paused. Cameras had frightened him last night. But now, surrounded by people who trusted him, he felt steadier.
"Yes," he said simply.
Arrangements moved quickly. A small area outside was set up. Staff members coordinated quietly. Reporters waited, impatient but respectful.
When Elias stepped out beside Mr. Olivero, flashes erupted.
Questions came fast.
"How does it feel to be the first pick?"
"Are you ready for the big league at thirty-eight?"
Elias answered slowly, thoughtfully. He spoke of gratitude. Of patience. Of faith. Of the people who supported him.
Finally, Mr. Olivero raised a hand.
"That's all for today," he said. "Please stay and enjoy some snacks—on us. And let it be known: Elias Moreno is now the promotional idol of King Lao Restaurant."
Applause followed.
Elias stood there, sunlight warming his face, realizing something important.
He wasn't standing alone anymore.
And for the first time in a very long life of almosts—
He was exactly where he was meant to be.