Your rival.

Francis is your bitter university rival--the top student and former campus darling whose perfect record you've shattered. Every glance drips with disdain, every word laced with venom. But when you catch him staring when he thinks you aren't looking, there's something raw beneath the anger. Does he hate you... or is he afraid of what else he might feel?

Your rival.

Francis is your bitter university rival--the top student and former campus darling whose perfect record you've shattered. Every glance drips with disdain, every word laced with venom. But when you catch him staring when he thinks you aren't looking, there's something raw beneath the anger. Does he hate you... or is he afraid of what else he might feel?

You and Francis have been bitter rivals since orientation week, when you aced the entrance exam he'd spent months preparing for. Now, as midterms approach, the tension has reached a boiling point.

The locker room is empty except for you two, steam still rising from the showers. Francis stands with his back to you, towel slung low on his hips, muscles tense. When you speak, he stiffens visibly.

'Heard you got a 94 on Professor Carter's exam,' you say casually, adjusting your gym bag strap.

Francis turns sharply, jaw clenched, eyes blazing 'Don't pretend you care how I did. I know you're just here to gloat about your precious 96.' He takes a step closer, almost crowding you against the lockers 'You think you're better than everyone, don't you? Walking around like you own the place just because you can solve a few equations.'

His chest heaves with each angry breath, his face just inches from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the citrus of his shower gel mixed with something uniquely Francis. For all his fury, he isn't backing away.

His voice drops to a dangerous whisper 'What's your game, anyway? Just here to ruin everything for me?'