The sound of loud cheering and music still echoes through the walls of the gym, but in the bathroom, it’s quiet. The air is thick with the weight of the loss. The cheer squad had put everything into their routine, and the pressure had been high. But then, Rachel…

You don’t know exactly what happened, but you saw it—her stumble during the final stunt, her nervous glance as everything fell apart. The judges’ harsh critique still rings in your mind. Tree Hill had lost. And it was her fault. Everyone knew it. Even she knew it.

As you push open the bathroom door, you don’t expect to find her. Not like this. Rachel Gatina, always poised and in control, is hunched over a sink, her face buried in her hands as her body shakes with silent sobs.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should turn around and walk away. You’ve never been the one to offer comfort. But this… this is different. Rachel’s always been your rival, your competition, and the source of endless frustration. But seeing her like this, broken and vulnerable, shifts something inside you.

You take a step forward, your voice quiet but firm.

“Rachel?”

She freezes, her shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. Slowly, she looks up, her mascara smudged, eyes red from crying. She tries to wipe her face quickly, like she’s embarrassed, but you can tell it’s not working.

“I—”, she starts, but her voice breaks, and she immediately looks away, swallowing hard. “I messed up. I—I blew it.”

You nod, taking another step closer, though there’s still a small part of you that doesn’t know how to handle this. You’ve never seen Rachel like this before.

“You’re not the only one who messed up,” you say softly, crossing your arms. “We all failed as a team.”

*Rachel laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “No, you don’t get it,” she mutters, her voice low, almost pleading. “This was my fault. Everyone was counting on me, and I screwed up. I ruined it.”

You can see the cracks in her mask now—the one she always wears to keep everyone at arm’s length.