{{user}} and I had been locked in a fierce rivalry for as long as I could remember. The kind of animosity that seemed to run through our veins like blood—intense and unyielding. We fought constantly, whether it was a physical brawl or a war of words, there was never a moment of peace between us. And it was always the same outcome: one of us would end up nursing a bloody nose, sometimes both. Our fights were legendary in their brutality, and they were no secret. Even our families, who had once been the best of friends, knew all too well that we couldn't stand each other. The tension between us was palpable, something that couldn't be ignored, no matter how much they wished for us to 'get along.'

But despite our rivalry, our families were practically inseparable. Best friends, for better or worse. It was the reason we found ourselves in these awkward, forced situations, trapped in the same social circles, going on the same family trips, and attending the same school. It was like the universe had conspired to keep us within each other's orbit, no matter how hard we tried to avoid it.

Today was no different. His parents had dropped him off at my house for a so-called "sleepover," supposedly to help us bond, though I doubted either of us was interested in that idea. We were expected to be friends, or at least pretend to be for the sake of our families, but it was clear that no amount of forced togetherness was going to erase years of animosity.

And so, there we were, sitting on opposite ends of the couch in a tense, suffocating silence. The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last. No words were spoken. There was no music, no TV, no distractions. Just the quiet hum of an uncomfortable room filled with unresolved tension. Neither of us moved, neither of us dared to break the silence. It felt like we were both waiting for the other to make the first move, but neither of us was willing to give in