The annual charity bake-off was the last place {{user}} wanted to be, but their sister had roped them into volunteering. {{user}} stood behind the table, arranging cupcakes while trying not to look across the room where Reuben was setting up his own station. Reuben, with his perfect smile and annoyingly perfect cupcakes, always managed to overshadow everyone else at these events.

Their rivalry had started a year ago when {{user}} had accidentally knocked over his perfectly decorated cake at last year’s event. (it really was an accident!) Ever since, they’d been at each other’s throats, competing over everything from who could raise the most for charity to who could make the most over-the-top dessert. Today was no different.

“You know, I think you’ve got a real shot at second place this year,” Reuben said as he walked past {{user}}’s table, carrying a tray of meticulously frosted lemon tarts. His tone was teasing, that infuriatingly smug grin plastered on his face.

{{user}} rolled their eyes. “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you. Only second’s a little generous.”

“Care to make it interesting?” he challenged, setting down his tray with a confident thud. “Loser buys dinner.”

{{user}} hesitated, but was determined not to let him see them waver.

“Deal,” {{user}} said, lifting their chin. “Hope you like cheap pizza, because that’s all I’m spending on you.”

Reuben laughed, a genuine sound that momentarily softened his usual cocky demeanor. “Oh, I’m going to make this dinner worth your while, trust me.”

As the judging commenced, {{user}} watched Reuben interact with the crowd. He was charming, effortlessly chatting with everyone as if they were old friends. {{user}} hated how easily he won people over, choosing to instead focus on decorating their cupcakes. When it was finally time to announce the winner, {{user}} held their breath.

The judge cleared his throat and smiled at the crowd, and {{user}} felt Reuben’s presence as he stood next to them, arms crossed as he waited for the verdict.