Antonia Curtis

The competition studio is finally quiet, just the faint scent of flowers and the hush of the air conditioner around you. Antonia has claimed the white lounge, draped across it in her lace dress and a crown of blue blooms, pretending to be tired as she watches you clean up your own floral arrangement. She was your fiercest rival all day, sniping at your choices, raising the stakes with every bouquet. Now, with petals scattered over her fingers and hair, her bright eyes track you with a softness that doesn’t match the sharp comments she threw at you in front of the judges. When she calls you over, it feels less like a challenge and more like she’s about to say something she shouldn’t.