two sides to every creation (you and me, we're no revelation) (джен)

Somewhere along the line, we ceased to be school rivals. Suddenly, we were just pawns, and the game wasn't a game anymore.
We were legacies. Falling apart in broom closets and bathroom stalls, trapped in the legends of our names.
It’s funny, in a bitter sort of way, how now both vanquisher and vanquished are united in their suffering. The victor and the defeated both wake up screaming.
 
Past, present, and future…a dialogue of sorts.