A/N: Because this is the only drabble I managed to fit under 100 words limit (almost). Because of that, it's short, sweet, and perfect for stalling time, as I struggle writing three-four other stories at once, and have hard time fitting scenes I see in my head to only one storyline. Anyway, enjoy!

The medals they won weren't gold, neither was the cup; golden racquet was actually from plastic, and the rings on their fingers were the fake gold, since none of them could afford anything more expensive.
What was gold for sure, though, consisted of bright smiles, sunset talks, revision for matches, silly ropes training, used up trainers and racquet guts; it also possessed sweat, frustration, heavy breathing, losing and winning; it had a warmth behind you, and arm on the shoulder whenever it was needed.
Their relationship is the only thing they will never call 'false'. The Gold, however, managed to remain.