Random short stories

High on Competition

I sit in the orchestra room by myself, practicing my favorite piece. I'm jamming and having fun, working hard on perfecting it for an upcoming performance. All the sudden, this other know-it-all, prodigy-wannabe comes into the room with HIS cello. He starts working on the same piece as me but instead of practicing by himself and leaving me alone, he starts playing where I am in the piece and drowns me out with his sound.

Naturally, I won't stand for this. I play louder than him and start going faster than I had been originally. He begins to copy me, I know because I can see him. This jerk is like my mirror image on the cello. He's keeping in perfect time with me, never seeming to breathe or falter in his perfect imitation of my playing. He starts to play quieter in a section where I have trouble, allowing the world to know my flaws. Now, of course, this means war. I have an idea of what will throw him off, I'll switch songs. I launch into the best variation of Smooth Criminal I know. He gets a panicked expression once he realizes I've switched songs. He manages to catch up to me and almost does better but I couldn't let this guy win. I wouldn't allow my section the shame of this INTRUDER winning.

I must destroy him. I kick away my stand which in the process, knocks away his stand. Sheet music is flying everywhere. Cascading down from the heavens in a glorious orchestral rain of triumph as he looks up, getting distracted and forgetting to play. I finish the song with a flourish and a lift of my bow. I won. He stopped playing. He forfeits the duel! I WON! I WON! MUAHAHAHAHA!

This is when my friend tapped my shoulder and awoke me from my feverish day dream. "Bro, you do realize, you've been laughing maniacally for twenty minutes and we don't even have rehearsal today. Also, why are you staring into a mirror so angrily?"

This is when I recount my fabulous showdown between the show-offy, intruder cello and I. How I used deception and my wits to end the duel in my favor.

My friend stares at me in confusion, "So..you dueled with your....reflection...? Bro, how high ARE you?"

"High on competition, my friend. High on competition."

"You've lost it."