Relationships / Positioning

James’s stare keeps following me as I pace around the room.
A few minutes ago Amelia called me to reveal a new fact of reality.
My pride has been shattered twice.
I lost the exam again.
This time, John got the full 100%, while I got a 99%. Both are incredibly impressive, leagues above my peers. However, it’s another data point confirming for Amelia that I am not dedicated to the path forced upon me. No shocker there.
    “James.”
I spoke more aggressively than I intended to. James visibly recoiled before answering.
    “Yes, my lady?”
He even responded in a more polite way. Did I look that pissed off?
    “What if I challenge John to something that doesn’t relate to Father’s path?”
    “Do you intend on challenging him on something creative?”
    “You read my mind.”
Of course, I'd need to double check with my publisher if this would be acceptable with our current schedule. We are ahead of the deadline so they should allow me this opportunity to flex my creative talent further. Their reply should come before the afternoon, the time when our other competitions took place. I’ll need to come up with some kind of prompt too.
I can think about it during classes.

…
The end of the day came before I knew it. We’ve been having consistent lightly cloudy days consistently over the past few days, so the polished white hallways reflect the slightly warm evening hues. Other students exchange polite greetings with me as I walk from the business wing to the arts wing.

The amount of students dwindles the closer you get to the arts wing. I’ve found out through attendance alone that not many students select this university for any art related fields. Compared to the busy hallways filled with my prim and proper peers, the art wing contains only a few individuals that have a layer of uniqueness on top of their prim and proper looks. If this wing is so rarely used, it does boggle the mind on why the management lets this wing continue as is. It might be another tradition that the university keeps around. John did mention this is where the building started, so it’s probably preserved for history. That is my best guess.

Once I arrived at the classroom, I gently opened the door.
Opening it revealed George sitting at the stand near the green chalkboard and John sitting at yet another random desk. Due to the room sitting on the edge of the campus and it’s height of residing on the second floor, it gets vastly more sunlight at this time of day compared to the other hours. The soft blues dye the worn wooding brown present throughout the classroom, creating a calm atmosphere. It is a shame that I’m about to shatter it, but this must be done.

As I entered the room, I could feel George attempting to kill me with his eyes. Thankfully, his attempts are unsuccessful. My attention is focused on John, who was now staring at me with intent.
    “Thank you for yet again accompanying me with this request.”
    “No problem, Alice. Since you’re here now, please explain the challenge.”
I took out a spare laptop from my bag and placed it on John’s desk.
“We’ll be writing a scenario based on a prompt for two hours. Once time is up, I’ll upload these two and whichever one gets the greater reception wins.”
John’s face turned blank for a second before he regained his life. He nodded after a few seconds passed.
    “I assume that you already have an audience that can judge both works, correct?”
George shot a question my way from his podium. I responded in kind.
    “Why yes. I know of a publisher with an audience. No worries there.”
    “I see.”
George backed off.
John stepped in.
    “So, what is this scenario?”

…
We finished up at the same time, a minute before time was up. We even stretched at the exact same time too.
George remained seated at the podium, even though he did walk around and looked over our work during the exam time.
I closed the laptop and carefully returned it to my backpack.
    “Thank you for your time, John. I’ll upload these to my publisher. We’ll get the results back within a few days time. I’ll contact you as soon as I receive them.”
    “Perfect. I’ll see you then, Alice.”
John stood up and left without much hesitation, as if he already had somewhere to be.
He left me alone with George in this abandoned room. George remained at the podium, while I stood at the formerly occupied desk one segment left from the center of the room. He continued to stare at me, as if he was trying to strip my intentions bare.

    “Listen, Bedwyn, I have questions.”
    “I’m listening.”
George stood up at the podium and began to project his voice across the room.
    “State your intentions.”
The atmosphere in the room sharply turned to one of a courtroom. You could say that he’s the judge, trying to uncover the truth behind my actions and sentence me accordingly.
    “I’m here to earn the claim that I’ve beaten John Smyth.”
    “Is that all?”
    “Yes.”
It's clear that he refused to believe this admission. I could see him quint his eyes to try look past any potential lies I might have spoken.
    “Is that really all? You’re not looking for more? Nothing greater?”
    “No.”
George sighed so loudly that it reached my ears. You could describe it more akin to a groan than a sigh.
    “Alice Bedwyn. I challenge you to a round of rock paper scissors.”
    “And what is this challenge for, might I ask?”
George left his podium position and walked towards me, his steps laced with determination.
    “To establish our position. We cannot both occupy second place.”
A deadly silence warps the relaxing afternoon space around us.
George remains deathly serious. It reminds me of how I looked when I first faced off with John. Which means he’s here to prove something, a part of himself, to me. So this is how John must have felt back then. I can’t back down to such a will.
    “I accept.”
    “Good. On shoot.”
    “Understood.”
    “”Rock paper scissors SHOOT””

…
He shot scissors.
I shot paper.

    “Phew! That means I’m officially handing the title of second place to you.”
George did a little bow as he handed me… nothing. He just held his hand out, which then turned into one requesting a handshake. I complied with his request and shook his hand.
    “Thank you for the honor.”
    “No, Miss Bedwyn. Thank you for finally getting this burden off my shoulders”
    “Burden?”
George distanced himself from me slightly and began to speak softly.
    “You’re aware of my family and how they’re disliked behind everyone’s back. Because of that, John is the only one on this campus that treats me mostly normally.”
    “Okay, and?”
    “When you came to challenge him, I thought you were another one of those people trying to make him submit to you. But from what I saw today, you’re not one of those. You want to establish a relationship with him, right?”
Admittedly, yes, I do. He is the key to my further operations in this place. But for obvious reasons I can’t let that slip.
Although, I haven’t considered friendship. I was planning on just using him from afar, similar to a pawn.
    “I want to show you something. Could you please come with me to the library?”

…
We stood in the shadow of a tree that had a view of the library entrance. Evening began to turn in for the day, causing shadows to enlarge and their darkness to strengthen. This allowed us to remain easily hidden and watch the scene unfold.

Outside stood a group of people dressed in red, with their prideful chatter being audible from a decent distance.
“So when is he supposed to come out?”
“Doesn’t he leave later on? Is our info off?”
“We’ll get him this time for sure!”
“It’s quite sad that the last group didn’t get him. Oh well. His talents will be ours.”
It would seem that this group is dedicated to make John theirs.
    “They’re all here to buy out John, get him under contract for their own motives.”
    "So it seems."
That makes sense. If there was such a high achiever in the campus that was roaming loose, then I took would try to catch and leash that person. Especially if I viewed him as mission critical for my operations. With how casually this group is presenting themselves, it’s clear that they have no intentions of actually putting him to use. From their behavior alone, I can deduce that they view him as another portfolio piece, nothing more.

The thought of owning John like a portfolio piece does make my stomach churn. Even if I did want to use him for my own plans, I never considered even enslaving him. That’s what these people are trying for. Enslavement.
…
It hit me.
A fundamental flaw in John's logic began ringing alarm bells inside my head.
This free and achieving soul is in an environment that wants to capture such a busy-body.
Just what is he doing here?
    “Ah, look. Here he comes.”
George pointed me to the library entrance, which showed a plain looking figure heading towards a group of red-coloured suited-up wannabe business men.