Silence | Book 1

2-8: Berlin II

Tristan anxiously bit on the back of his pencil as the judges deliberated amongst themselves. At least until he realised there were cameras pointed at him, and even though the only ones watching would probably be their parents and a few people stranded in the wrong video recommendations, he quickly stopped chewing to instead fold his arms. The notes he had been taking during the debate laid sprawled out in front of him on the black cloth that covered the tables on stage. He tried his best not to nervously twiddle with the cufflinks of his sleeves, and when he stopped that, needed to focus on not pressing the heel of one foot on top of the other foot.
The wait was horrendous, and he could feel a bit of nausea well up again just knowing he could have failed. Under the table he quickly pulled up his conversation with Hibiki again, rereading what had been said to calm him down a little. Yet he couldn't help himself from writing a new message.

T: The judges are deliberating now.
What happens if I managed to mess it up?

As expected it was quiet for a moment, and then another one – before a message popped up.

H: Then you learn from it and crawl back up
Not winning is not a failure
Never having tried in the first place is
Other than that everything will be the same as it was yesterday
We're still going to get coffee next week

Somehow the idea of that eased his nerves slightly, as it gave him something to look forward to; a reliable point in time he could hold onto amidst the unsteady waves of anxiety that swept across his psyche.

T: Yeah, I suppose that's true :)
They're going to announce the results, so I will talk to you later.

Tristan texted, before quickly closing his phone and putting it away again as he had noticed the judges stirring. A heavy weight set in his stomach, now the moment of truth neared. The announcer walked up to the microphone with a folded piece of paper in her hand, ready to tell the result to those that had gathered in the hall. It was enough of a crowd to not make it feel like it had been for nothing.
Luckily it was not the kind of event where one needed a drum roll and a dramatic silence to announce the results.
"The judges have decided that the winner of the first round is, by three to two; the Oxford Debate Union."
As the name filled the hall, accompanied by polite applause, he felt Liz beside him lift her arms in victory, and with it the weight in his chest dissipated into a gentle, warm rush. We won? Blimey.
Even his mind was speechless for a second, but only for a second, as soon enough they were whisked to the front of the stage to speak a few words and receive a small trophy that was mostly meant as a sign of goodwill. Still he took it with a wide grin, shaking hands and holding the pose for a second so a few pictures could be taken.
Rather shocked he just uttered some words of gratitude, thanking the university and the opposing team.

"So how does it feel eh?" Liz said with a grin, giving his shoulder a soft push while they were standing in front of a large painting in the near-empty museum. The only ones around were a few pensioners that seemed like they were there with a bus tour.
"Quite good." Tristan admitted with a slight smile.
"See, you didn't have to be so nervous."
"But if I'm not, I won't get anything done." He said back.
"You don't have to be so nervous you throw up, you can be a little nervous. Maybe a smattering of nervous. A light dusting." She said, grinning and smugly patting her shoulders like she was wiping the dust off after a victory. All Tristan could do was sigh and shake his head a little.
"Is Killian starting to rub off on you?"
"Ew. He wishes." Liz said, sticking her tongue out, causing Tristan to genuinely chuckle for a moment.
"You guys really are the best, I'm glad you're my team."
"We're your friends Trissy, of course we make a good team." Liz grinned, before wrapping her arms around Tristan while he was too shocked to refuse the hug.
"We really shouldn't have these heart to hearts in a museum though." He muttered once he got used to the hug.
"Why not?"
"My tears will probably devalue the art."
"Only you can worry about that." Liz said as she let go of him with a roll of her eyes, but then grinned. "Come on, let's enjoy this, they got some great art here." She said as she tugged him along by his sleeve into the next hall.