Nadia pressed her back against the cold auditorium wall, clutching her sheet music until it creased. Across the room, Elena was warming up her voice, each note soaring effortlessly through the air. They had been best friends since elementary school, bonded by their shared love of musical theater, but today that bond felt like a tightrope stretched too thin.
"You're going to do great," Elena said, walking over with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You always perform better when you're nervous."
Nadia recognized the competitive edge beneath Elena's words. "Thanks. You too." The reply felt hollow, a placeholder for everything she couldn't say: that she wanted this solo more than she'd ever wanted anything, that watching Elena succeed sometimes felt like failing herself.
When Nadia's name was called, she walked to center stage on trembling legs. The first few notes came out shaky, uncertain. Then she spotted Elena in the front row, and something shifted. Elena was mouthing the words along with her, her face earnest and encouraging. In that moment, Nadia remembered countless afternoons they'd spent practicing together, pushing each other to improve.
Her voice found its strength. The final notes rang out clear and true. As she walked offstage, Elena met her with a genuine embrace. "That was incredible," Elena whispered. "Whatever happens, I'm proud of you."
Nadia realized that competition didn't have to destroy friendship. Sometimes, having someone who challenged you was the very thing that made you better.