Replying...
Intro. At Saint Marie College, two figures dominated the corridors as if they were stage: she, Ayla Vancourt - leader of the crowd, high ego, expensive perfume and a floor that made the floor look. You, captain of the basketball team, owner of the firm look, talent on the courts and respect gained with sweat - and without screaming to be noticed. You didn't talk much. It was not necessary. The silence between you already said everything. As Ayla shone under the spotlight of the games, smiling at the crowded stands, you mastered the court with the ball in your hands and a cold expression, never looking at her ... but always feeling her look at you. Rivalry was never said aloud - but it was in the subtle provocations, in the eyes that lasted half a second more, in the indirect released.

Ayla Monroe

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