Romeo
The day of the debate had arrived, and there was an undeniable weight in the air. Every step I took toward the auditorium seemed heavier than the last. My heart raced not only because of the impending debate, but because I couldn't shake the sensation of the burning mark on my wrist. It had intensified over the last few days, a constant, uncomfortable reminder of the tension between Venecia and me.
The auditorium buzzed with the chatter of students and faculty taking their seats. I forced myself to focus, taking a deep breath before pushing through the door.
Venecia was already there, her expression a perfect mask of focus. She looked calm, confident—nothing like how I felt. She was chatting with a few of the other competitors, but when her eyes met mine, something shifted in the room. The air around us thickened, and I knew she felt it too.
The familiar twinge in my chest—a pull toward her—flared up. We both knew what it meant. I wasn't prepared for it. Not now. Not here.
"Looks like we're partners in crime today, huh?" I muttered, trying to ease the mounting pressure. She gave me a sharp look but didn't answer, which was exactly what I expected.
The debate coordinator walked in moments later, a clipboard in hand, calling us all to attention.
"All right, Romeo, Venecia," the coordinator said, making his way over to us. "Get ready. You're up in five."
With that, he left, and I was left alone with Venecia in the back corner of the auditorium. The sense of rivalry, of unfinished business, hung between us. It wasn't just the debate; there was so much more beneath the surface. But right now, the only thing I could focus on was what was coming.
I turned to Venecia, who was fidgeting with her notes.
"Ready?" I asked, though I wasn't sure if I was asking myself or her.
She shot me a sideways glance. "No."
I didn't say anything more, knowing I wouldn't get anything useful from her. I was about to open my mouth when the organizer walked back to signal us.
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Venecia
The podiums felt too tall. The spotlight was too bright. And every ounce of tension I'd been building in the past weeks—every ounce of anger, frustration, and unease—was about to explode.
When Mr. Abrams called our names, the whole room went silent. It wasn't as though I was worried about the competition. I was more concerned with getting through the argument with my dignity—and keeping Romeo out of my head.
But I couldn't shake the connection I felt when we shared the same space during the rehearsal. It was like every glance, every word exchanged between us, had too much weight. The mark on my wrist pulsed again, hotter than before. Despite myself, I glanced at Romeo.
He wasn't paying attention to me—his eyes were focused on his notes, but I knew he felt it too.
"Focus," I muttered under my breath. "No distractions."
Finally, we were called to step onto the stage. As I walked to my podium, the crowd's eyes felt like lasers burning through my skin.
I had to do this. For myself. For the win.
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Third Person POV
The audience had settled into their seats, a quiet hush falling over the auditorium as the debate began. A wave of anticipation buzzed through the room as Romeo and Venecia took the stage.
Romeo appeared poised but there was a subtle, controlled tension to the way he stood behind the podium, his hands gripping the sides like they were a lifeline. His brow furrowed, giving a glimpse of the nervous energy that lurked underneath his calm exterior. A few of the students in the audience exchanged whispers, noticing the sharp focus in his eyes.
Venecia, on the other hand, radiated confidence, as though she owned the space. Her back was straight, her posture strong, and yet her hands fidgeted with the papers on the podium—a tell that not all was as calm as it seemed on the surface. Her every movement seemed calculated, deliberate.
It was clear from the start that this debate wasn't just an academic exercise for these two. The competition was real, but what lay between them was more than just words. The room hummed with the quiet intensity between the two competitors.
Their arguments began—sharp, thoughtful, and almost effortlessly delivered. Venecia spoke first, her tone assertive, bringing up facts and studies to support her position on the integration of digital learning into the curriculum. She was impressive, her knowledge of the topic clear, her words sharp as a blade.
Romeo countered without hesitation, using his critiques of digital dependence to tear into her points with cold precision. It was an intellectual sparring match, but those in the audience couldn't shake the feeling that their rivalry was something deeper. The way their eyes met across the podiums, the tension simmering behind their words, told a different story.
The debate was intense—each rebuttal faster, sharper. Romeo didn't give an inch, just as Venecia held her ground with equal ferocity. But then, a shift occurred. The air thickened, something unspoken stirring between them.
It was hard to miss. There was more than competition in the way they sparred, a subtle electric connection that was impossible to ignore. Every back-and-forth seemed to fuel the growing tension. It was clear: this wasn't just about a debate anymore.
Venecia's face flushed as she fired another point at Romeo, who responded without a beat. The burn on their shoulders seemed to intensify—their focus now fully turned inward, as if the room and the audience had faded into oblivion. What had started as a contest of words now seemed like a collision of two forces beyond what anyone had expected.
Before either of them could fully process it, the timer sounded, signaling the end of the debate. The silence was deafening. Not a single soul stirred.
The students remained seated; their expressions mixed. Some looked bewildered, others curious, but none could deny the impact of what they'd just witnessed. Romeo and Venecia stood motionless, their chests rising and falling as they stared at each other for a fleeting moment, as though trying to understand the unknown tension they'd just unleashed. They may have spoken their final words, but their argument wasn't over—it had only just begun.
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Woow, what a ton load of tension and nerves. What do you guys think? Don't forget to like and comment. See you in the next chapter.