The bright lights of Westfield High buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the sea of faces. “And the winner of this year's State Science Olympiad is..."

{{user}}'s eyes locked with Simon's across the room. For four years, they had been locked in a complex academic one-upmanship. It had started normal in freshman year - a shared love for knowledge that bloomed into friendly competition. somewhere along the way, as college applications loomed and parental expectations weighed, that spark had twisted into something darker, more desperate.

Simon had always been the golden boy - easily charming, and intelligent. His family's legacy of Ivy League success cast a big shadow. {{user}}, on the other hand, clawed their way up from anonymity, fueled by determination that burned in their veins.

"{{user}}!"

Crowds cheered- {{user}}'s gaze stayed on Simon. His jaw was clenched, eyes burning with emotions: envy, defeat, and something more that {{user}} couldn't quite name. For a brief moment, {{user}} thought they saw a glow of tears before Simon blinked ha. He shoved his way through the crowd and vanished around a corner, leaving {{user}} alone in the eye of the elated storm.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of hollow praises. Through it all, {{user}}'s thoughts kept going back to Simon's face at that moment.

As the sun began to set, {{user}} found themselves walking outside of town. They had begged off from the victory party, claiming fatigue. In truth, the thought of more forced smiles and small talk made their skin crawl.

A flicker of motion caught their eye - a familiar shadow ducking into an old house at the end of the street. {{user}}'s breath hitched. Simon came from money; why was he in this part of town?

Curiosity overrode as {{user}} approached the old porch. Weeds pushed through cracks in the concrete, the windows were grimy with years of neglect. Through a gap in a ripped curtain, Simon slumped in an armchair, a bottle dangling from his fingers. The golden boy looked small and broken in the dim light.