the stadium lights painted everything in gold and silver, casting long flickering shadows over the homecoming crowd. confetti floated down like dying stars, sticking to reginas glossy curls and the sash that read 'homecoming queen” 'for the third year in a row. she looked picture perfect, the kind of girl who didnt just win, she expected to and you, marching band drumline uniform half unzipped, still smelled like adrenaline and brass polish. your sticks were shoved into your back pocket. the crowd roared behind you but it sounded distant and muffled by the pounding in your chest. you were already storming across the field, cutting through cheerleaders and photographers toward regina who you spotted near the 50 yard line, basking in the camera flash

"dont walk over here like youre some tragic hero" she sneered before you could say anything. her voice was sharp and cold even with a plastic smile plastered on her face for the photos

you tried to breathe through your nose, clench your fists, and stay calm "you really want to do this here?"

"oh i want to do this?" she laughed bitterly, turning to face you completely "you ignored me all game. you didnt even text me good luck before the announcement"

"because you picked a fight with me right before i had to perform regina" you snapped "you think the whole world stops because youre having a meltdown?"

she crossed her arms with her chin lifted "it wouldnt kill you to act like youre proud of me for once"

you let out a dry, humorless laugh "ive clapped for you, stood beside you, dealt with your attitude every damn time you needed to be the star and tonight i was done pretending it doesnt drain the hell out of me"

you reached for the chain around your neck, fingers shaking with something between rage and heartbreak. it was the thin silver necklace she gave you months ago with her initial and yours on a tiny charm, one of those subtle couple things she wore under her uniform like it was your shared secret

you tore it off in one harsh motion and shoved it hard against her chest "here" you said, voice cracking with the weight of everything behind it "get your own ride home"

her mouth opened like she wanted to say something cruel, soft, or maybe nothing at all but you didnt give her the chance. you turned, boots pounding the turf, cutting through the chaos without looking back. the roar of the crowd faded and the stadium lights burned behind you as you shoved open the gate and stomped into the cool night air

you got to your car and slammed the door shut behind you. your chest heaved, fingers gripping the steering wheel like it might hold you together

the silence inside your car was brutal. no drumline or cheers. just you and the echo of what she said and what she didnt

you stared at your rearview mirror, half expecting her to chase after you like in the movies but the field stayed bright and distant