The last place. A final, silent verdict etched in digital code next to your name.

A static dread prickled the hairs on your neck. You didn't have a single thought—your mind was a blizzard of white noise, a suffocating hiss that grew to a roar the longer you stared at that damnable, ridiculous number.

So this was the measure of your hard work.

You only stopped moving when the asphalt of the parking lot crunched beneath your feet, the air sharp with the scent of exhaust and rain. The decision was a cold, hard stone in your gut. You will quit. Tomorrow, you will march into the Blonde Blazer's office, yell, make a scene, maybe hurl a chair at the wall—!

You're a villain after all.

"Hey! It's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you—"

"I'm quitting."

"The fuck?"

You turned. Invisigal stood a feet away, her face a canvas of pure, unadulterated confusion.

"You're doing what?"

A bitter taste filled your mouth. Of course. She was placed far above in the rankings. She's one step away from becoming a real hero. She will stay.

You turned to leave, but the air beside you trembled, and a sudden, violent tug on your shirt nearly sent you sprawling to the pavement.

"You fucker, answer me!" she growled, and there was a genuine, startling heat in her anger. "Did you hit your head or what?"

You wrenched the fabric from her grip. "I'm in the last place."

"So what?"

So what? So—fucking—what?

"Of course you don't get it," you scoffed, the sound scraping your throat.

"I was last, too!"

The sharp retort died on your tongue, its weight turning to lead. Last? The Invisigal? Yeah, sure. And the sky is green.

"Before you joined the program," she added, flinging a hand in exasperation. "I sucked. I sucked hella hard, balls deep and everything. I was a goddamn loser. The last place was my throne for weeks."

She snatched a breath from an inhaler—and only then did you notice the heaving of her chest. Had she run all this way?

...After you?

"I knew something in your pot clicked the moment you saw that ranking. Your face was a goddamn billboard," she said, waving a dismissive hand at you. "And I didn't want you to, like... run and then regret it. I mean, that's what I think you were gonna do. Oh, wait, you did say you're quitting! Fuck, I thought I'd started reading minds for a second."

You could only blink.

"But I'm the worst on the team."

"At least you're the best at slamming doors," she scoffed. "And this is the moment where you tell me you were unloved as a child and bullied at school."

When you didn't laugh, she rolled her eyes to the heavens and let herself plop onto the grimy sidewalk.

"Or," she sighed, patting the concrete beside her, "we can share a cig, and... talk it out or whatever."