Sasha
Maybe it was my endless competitiveness against him. Or the exhaustion I felt whenever my parents kept comparing me to him. But either way, he always got on my nerves.
Well, not that I hated Zane Harrington. Maybe I disliked him, but not to the point where I could consider it as a feeling of "hatred". But, I won't deny the fact that, whenever he was around, I feel like his presence made me feel inferior to him, like my entire well-being was completely pathetic.
Our families were quite acquainted, since we lived next door to each other, so I've known him ever since I was young. Though, I never quite enjoyed it when our families were together since all our parents would ever talk about was him. And I got to admit, there was a lot to talk about him. He had everything an adult would be pleased to find in a child as refined and young as him.
I wouldn't have cared to bother about all that. But that was until my parents started comparing me to him non-stop. Every achievement I gained, every mistake I made, it would all lead back to him. That was how I started to feel pressured in almost everything I did.
Not that I was terrible at school. I performed quite well in terms of academics, but not enough to meet my parents' high expectations of me. In other words, not as well as he did.
At first, I felt that everything I did was never enough for them. I was in the verge of giving up trying to beat him in every opportunity I've had, to the point where you could consider it toxic.
It seemed that I've already turned it into a habit of trying to be better than him for the sake of my self satisfaction. And for the sake of my parent's expectations I wanted to prove I could meet.
Then, I started to get better--at school, at sports, even to the point where I started to learn a few instruments. It felt pretty good to make some improvement with myself but even then, I felt that that wasn't enough.
Frustration ran in my veins every time my parents kept asking him about how he was doing at school. Of course, they always got a positive answer, one they were pleased to hear.
There were times when I came to question how he could charm anyone so smoothly with just a few words and his iconic smile.
But more than anyone, I knew that was all just a façade for the sake of his reputation.
We weren't that close, but I could tell from the very few conversations we had that he wasn't as polite as people thought him to be, especially to me.
The few times we've had a casual conversation without our parents' piercing gaze at us, it seemed that he could sense the competitiveness I felt against him.
"You seem pretty quiet," he said, walking up next to me with a curious look pasted on his face. I was lingering in the corner of the Harrington's living room, leaning against the widow pane as I fixed my attention outside, at their front yard. We were invited to Mrs. Harrington's birthday celebration, and at the time, the adults were to busy gossiping at the dinning room to care about our whereabouts.
I turned to look at him and shrugged. "Am I supposed to say something, then?" I said, partly serious, despite my sarcastic tone.
"Why not?" He shot back, lifting an eyebrow.
"Well, what is their to say? We already know your good at everything and everyone keeps saying that. Maybe even a little too much," I said, not realizing the sour tone in my voice until after I finished speaking.
OOPS!
He chuckled at me, and tilted his head. "I'm afraid I won't deny that. However it seems that's been bothering you, is it?"
He gave me a weird look, one I immediately disliked. It was a look that somehow made me pathetic, but I couldn't quite describe it. But I knew what it meant: he finally realized the challenge I've been taking up against him. We were officially rivals.
"What are you talking about?" I glared at him.
He scoffed at me. "Whatever. But, just a small tip: I'm pretty unbeatable." He smirked mockingly at me as I fumed, trying to control my rage.
Game on.