Ben & Simon
The sharp blast of the whistle pierced the cold morning air as runners stepped onto the starting
line. The crowd buzzed with excitement, their cheers echoing around the stadium. Among the
runners stood Ben and Simon, shoulder to shoulder.
For years, they had been rivals.
Every race ended the same way — Simon crossing the finish line first while Ben followed close
behind. No matter how hard Ben trained, Simon always seemed one step ahead.
Simon smirked confidently as he stretched his legs.
“Try to keep up this time,” he joked.
Ben forced a grin, though his stomach knotted with determination.
This time would be different.
The whistle shrieked again.
Instantly, the runners exploded forward. Trainers pounded against the track while the roar of the
crowd grew louder with every second. Ben’s pulse quickened as the wind rushed past his face.
Beside him, Simon ran smoothly and effortlessly as always.
The race blurred into a battle of breathing, speed and determination.
Lap after lap, Ben stayed beside Simon.
Then something unexpected happened.
For the first time ever, Ben pulled ahead.
Shock flashed across Simon’s face as Ben sprinted towards the finish line. The white line
stretched before him like victory itself. The crowd rose to their feet, screaming his name.
Just a few metres away from winning, Ben’s foot suddenly caught against the edge of the track.
He crashed onto the ground.
A heavy gasp swept through the stadium.
Pain shot through Ben’s leg as dust scraped against his hands. Around him, runners sped past.
The finish line that had once seemed so close now felt impossibly far away.
Ben clenched his fists tightly, humiliation burning through him.
Then footsteps slowed beside him.
Simon had stopped running.
“What are you doing?” Ben shouted angrily. “Go win!”
But Simon ignored him. Without hesitation, he reached down and pulled Ben back onto his feet.
For a moment, the two rivals stared at one another as the crowd fell strangely silent.
“Come on,” Simon said breathlessly. “We finish together.”
Ben’s eyes widened in shock.
Leaning against each other, they limped toward the finish line side by side. The stadium erupted
into applause louder than ever before. Neither of them had won the race, yet somehow the
moment felt more important than any medal.
As they crossed the line together, Ben finally realised Simon had never truly been his enemy.
Sometimes, friendship was worth more than victory.
BEN & SIMON
The stadium lights blazed against the darkening sky while hundreds of voices merged into one
deafening roar. At the starting line, runners bounced on the balls of their feet, stretching their
legs and shaking out nervous energy.
Ben kept his eyes fixed ahead.
Beside him stood Simon.
Ever since primary school, they had been rivals. Every sports day, every competition, every race
— Simon always won. Teachers praised him, students admired him and reporters crowded
around him after every victory. Meanwhile, Ben remained trapped in second place, close
enough to taste victory but never close enough to hold it.
“You nervous?” Simon asked casually.
Ben tightened his jaw. “Not this time.”
A sharp whistle sliced through the air.
The runners launched forward instantly. Shoes slammed against the track as the crowd erupted
with excitement. Cool wind whipped across Ben’s face while his pulse hammered wildly inside
his chest.
At first, Simon moved ahead like he always did.
But today felt different.
Ben’s legs burned with determination as he pushed harder and harder. The distance between
them shrank. Then suddenly, for the first time in years, Ben surged past him.
Shock flickered across Simon’s face.
The finish line stood only metres away now, glowing beneath the stadium lights. Cheers
thundered around Ben as hope exploded inside him. Finally. After all those years, he was going
to win.
Then disaster struck.
Ben’s foot clipped the edge of the track.
The world spun violently.
He hit the ground with a sickening thud, pain shooting through his body as the stadium gasped
in horror. Dust clung to his skin while runners rushed past him like waves.
For a moment, Ben could only stare at the finish line lying just beyond his reach.
So close.
Too close.
Footsteps approached rapidly behind him.
Ben squeezed his eyes shut, expecting Simon to sprint past and claim another easy victory.
Instead, the footsteps stopped.
Ben looked up in disbelief.
Simon stood there, breathing heavily.
“What are you doing?” Ben snapped bitterly. “Go finish!”
Simon glanced toward the finish line. Victory waited for him only seconds away. The crowd
screamed his name, urging him forward.
But Simon did not move.
Slowly, he held out his hand.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “No one deserves to lose like this.”
Ben hesitated.
For years, he had treated Simon like an enemy. Yet in the one moment that mattered most,
Simon had chosen friendship over victory.
Grabbing Simon’s arm, Ben pulled himself up. Together, they crossed the finish line side by side
as the entire stadium rose to its feet.
Neither of them came first that day.
Yet somehow, it became the race everyone remembered forever.