The act of socializing could probably be traced within any era of human history. In the past, the continuous struggle of both collecting resources and defending their lives encouraged humans to stay within a group. That is why it is justifiable to deem sociability as intelligence. And If we are talking about flat efficiency, a group of people will inevitably outdo the output of a mere individual. Thus, to be alone is foolish... it is suicide. That is also probably why our bodies indicate the feeling of loneliness as pain, signaling the danger of being alone while forcing us to accept the realistic premise at the same time.

“All right! Gather around!”

“Aye, coach!”

After the formal school session ends, this is where I would usually go to. A place where the smell of sweat was reaching peak levels by fully baring one’s skin to the expectations of youth.

For some particular reason, everyone expects you to go and attend at least one extracurricular activity until it gets to the point of being irritably mandatory. And when a student does not align themselves with that expectation, they will immediately be labeled as someone who has no life.

But besides all of that, fortunately, I love badminton. It is the first sport that I was introduced to and I have been practicing it ever since I was a kid. However, due to the prior pattern of logic, I can not express a similar attitude towards the people playing them. The idea of humans being able to only worth themselves through a physical matter is baffling.

Yet even though my tone shows the feeling of slight disgust, I cannot find myself to be in complete disagreement with the system. The part of extracurricular being mandatory is quite useful to expose an individual to multiple experiences at the time of their youth when the world is still considerably forgiving towards their mistakes. 

I mean, we can take an example from adults who are shackled by their current occupation, condemned by the responsibilities that surround them. Even though he/she knows that their jobs do not align much with their passion, they are irreversibly bounded by their economic needs.

Simply put, it allows us to determine whether something is interesting or garbage without many permanent consequences.

“As I've informed all of you last week, we’ll be having something a little bit special today.”

The badminton coach tipped his hat and did his hair, readjusting them to fit inside the wear more comfortably.

Ah, that’s right. I almost entirely forgot about it.

Today, the badminton club will be having an unofficial tournament. An event such as this comes from time to time. Especially, with our coach being a little bit too enthu-...

“In the spirit of youth, we must compete to better ourselves and others alike!”

-siastic about competitions...

The coach suddenly pumped his right fist high in the air, shouting his heroic words towards the sky. Perhaps he knew that the ones present on the ground would not have listened to him.

“So, here. Take the lotteries to see who you are paired with.”

And so, each one of the members moved forward and took one piece of paper. Within those crumpled papers, a number was written to decide the order of the matchups.

“Alright. So, who got number 1?”

Slowly, I opened up my choice to see my destined fate.

After seeing and accepting the result, I raised my hand, answering the coach’s question.

Since our lottery was correlated with each other’s results, it did not really matter what number I got. It was only a matter of what the other members will get in combination with my number. Meaning, the other’s luck was also tested. Thus, I had no problem going up first.

I do not really understand when people get all nervous when they are picked to go first. It does not really matter if you are first or last. In the end, you will still do the thing you are queuing up for, right?

“And you are paired with number 2, which is...”

Seemingly excited, the coach grinned while giving his thin beard a stroke. The coach looked similar to a kid who just got a new toy. A wrinkly, and relatively hairy kid.

“It’s me, sir!”

Answering the coach with a bubbly and lively tone, a woman raised her hand with high spirits. Yet somehow, my ears picked up the sound as sinistrous.

The source behind the noise was Silvi. Being both a third year and arguably a bully, she was someone who is known throughout the school as one notorious figure. And amongst the juniors, she was practically a celebrity. However, she was the type of celebrity that stacks fame through the controversies that surround her.

She is practically a high school Kim Kardashian minus the curves.

I heard that she was infamous for being “tough” towards the underclassmen. A typical senior who is intoxicated by the concept of strata. Due to this fact, she was exactly similar to the others. Unable to confirm her worth by herself, she resorts to “Seniority” tactics. 

And lookie, who to better assert your so-called dominance to? Being both a sophomore and quite the unlikable soul, I was basically a grade A5 beef served ready on the tableside.

Alongside, serving as the sound effects to my thoughts, I heard a few sighs of relief behind me. They were probably coming from the younger members of the badminton club.

It was quite understandable. Since she was someone that you almost always have to meet after school, it is favorable to keep being on her good side. As she was deemed “higher” in the strata of society, meddling with her was comparable to suicide. 

Forming an alliance with the Alpha is much safer, no doubt.

“To be having a match with the proclaimed genius. what an honor.”

Without any warning, Silvi suddenly approached me, walking in a laid-back manner. It was as if she needed to tell the world of her confidence. Yet another example as to why I deemed her similar to the others.

Thus, it seems that my ears weren’t wrong; my sights agreeing along.

The smile that she was putting on for the coach has now changed its curve into a smirk; her smug oozing with condescension. It was an attempt to intimidate and soften the meat of her prey, making her a fusion of Kim Kardashian and the character “IT” from one of Stephen King’s book. Oh, definitely do not want to imagine that graphic.

Regardless, it was just an annoyance for me. Both her smirk and smug was false. Knowing this, I decided not to play along with her game as it would me turn me as yet another loser.

“Let’s have a good match.”

As cool as I could, I mustered the most neutral response I could come up with. And along with the message, I put on a straight face, trying not to look menacing and risk sprouting unnecessary friction through facial gestures.

“Please... go easy on me, okay?”

But instead of continuing my efforts, Silvi gave me a pleading look. Again, her intention did not synchronize with what her expression presented.

Somehow, this woman managed to make me click my tongue at heart, which I thought was biologically impossible. But on the contrary, breaking the Guinness world record for being the most irritating human was not. Thus, I willingly accepted the loss of my cool. And even though Silvi did not have the courtesy to continue my efforts, I kindly decided to continue hers.

I threw a smile as naturally as I could have, creating an illusion of friendliness as the opening stage to my comedy act. And after I confirmed that Silvi had processed my expression, I immediately betrayed her logic with the punchline.

“Considering your competency… perhaps I should?”