Every year since Primary school I’ve always gotten first place in the Annual Talent Show our city runs. No one can beat my guitar/singing act. So tell me why I’m standing here with a second place ribbon while Parksy Patterson stands high and mighty in first? She holds her ribbon out, posing for a photo her mother snaps at front row.

Meanwhile, I don’t even attempt to scan the room for my parents. I know they’re long gone by now, disgusted by the idea of their child getting anything other than first place. I keep my head down while my anger threatens to burst out of me, like a seam snapping on a ragged stuffed animal. I can imagine the cotton spewing out of me, tangled and furious at the world.

As we walk off the stage Parksy gives one last award winning smile to the audience, bouncing so that her curls loop up and down like a slinky. When we got behind the safety of the curtain, I rip into my second place ribbon, stomping and yelling profanities I heard in an action movie once. The teacher looks at me in horror, shielding the other students behind her as if I were going to rip into them too.

“Samuel Robinson that is enough! Go outside and sit against the wall! I will be contacting your parents about this!”

I throw my ruined ribbon on the ground and storm out of the gymnasium, fury ringing through my ears in a symphony of my failures. As I walk out of the door I hear Mrs.Klautzki shame me.

“I just don’t know what to do about that boy, he has such a temper.”

I plop down outside the gymnasium and bury my head in between my legs. My entire body shakes at the thought of going home and facing my parents. Years of musical training wasted because of a girl who just learned to play piano last year.

Someone walks up to me, the clicking of their heels agitate me and I dart my head up ready to rip into them. It’s Parksy Patterson, of all people.

“Hey Sam, I’m sorry about...” she trails off choosing her next words carefully. “You played really well y’know? Elvis needs to watch out.”

“Elvis is dead,” I grunt. Parksy’s smile drops.

“Ya Elvis is uh-“ she clears her throat, “anyways I wanted you to have this.” She holds out her ribbon in-front of me, it’s dark blue silk shining under the lamp lights.

“Why would I want that? It’s just a stupid ribbon.”

“Really? Because you just ripped up YOUR stupid ribbon because you wanted THIS stupid ribbon.” She scoffs.

“I couldn’t give a rats ass about the ribbon. What I care about is the title that comes with it.” I look down at my feet, ashamed. “And I didn’t earn that title.” Parksy grabs my hand and I pull away, but she holds out the ribbon and tries again.

“Just...here. Take it, I don’t really need it. My mom would’ve been happy if I got a participation trophy. Just tell your parents that there was a mistake, and that you actually got first.” I twist the ribbon in my hand, taking in the gold details on the front. ‘1st place’ shining, proclaiming me as a winner. But I’m not a winner. I hand it back to Parksy and stand up.

“I’m going home, Mrs. Klautzki is taking too long.” Parksy raises her eyebrow at me.

“She’s gonna get you in trouble,” she calls out. I turn around as I walk.

“Counting on it!” I yell back. I’m about to turn around again, but a nagging feeling in my chest tells me there’s something else I need to do.

“And Parksy?”

“Yes?” She shouts.

“Thanks!” I can see her eyes widen even though I’m quite far from her now. She smiles and nods at me, before giving me a big wave and running inside.

I turn back around and walk towards my house, preparing myself for the shit storm my parents were about to throw at me.