Now seated inside my room, I couldn't believe the fact that Michael and Myers were out of the competition. I had thought that with the idea of us going to stay here for weeks, and by the stated ranking of the favourite son, that there was nothing like being eliminated. But now, the situation was concerning. I was starting to realize that this competition was much more serious than I had initially thought. The thought of being eliminated, of not being good enough, was a daunting one.
Just as I was lost in thought, Brock stepped into my room, coming to check on me. I saw this as an opportunity to get some answers, and so I took my chances, walking up to him and asking for a favor. I approached him with a sense of trepidation, unsure of how he would react.
"Brock, can I ask you something?" I said, trying to sound as innocent and non-threatening as possible. My voice was laced with a sense of desperation, a desire to uncover the truth.
He looked at me warily, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to gauge my intentions. But he nodded for me to continue, his expression unreadable.
"What is it, young master Gabriel?" he asked, his voice firm but neutral.
I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I was wondering if you could give me a hint about what to expect in this competition," I said, trying to sound casual, despite the fact that my heart was racing with anticipation. "I mean, I know it's between me, Liam, and Phillips now, but I have no idea how long we're competing for, or what the challenges will be like."
Brock sighed, clearly not wanting to share any information with me. He rubbed his temples, as if trying to ward off a headache. "Young master Gabriel, I'm not supposed to tell you anything," he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "You'll just have to wait and see what happens next."
But I wasn't ready to give up yet. I continued begging for this favor, trying to wear him down, to break through his defenses. "Please, Brock, just a hint," I said, my voice rising in desperation. "I promise I won't tell anyone you told me. I just need to know what I'm up against."
Brock looked at me for a long time, clearly weighing his options. He seemed to be considering my request, weighing the pros and cons of sharing information with me. Finally, he seemed to relent, his expression softening slightly.
"This competition isn't going to take as long as you probably anticipated," Brock said, his voice low and measured, his words dripping with significance. He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his statement sink in.
I felt a surge of shock run through me, my mind racing with the implications. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes wide with confusion.
Brock's expression was serious, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made me feel like he could see right through me. "This is now the second day of the tournament," he said, his words slow and deliberate. "Meaning there's only 5 more days remaining."
My palms flew up to cover my mouth, as if to stifle a gasp. I had expected this competition to drag on for months, maybe even up to 3 months. I had thought I had plenty of time to prepare, to strategize, to make my move. But here Brock was, telling me that it was all going to be over in just a week. I couldn't believe it.
"5 days?" I repeated, my voice shaking slightly, my eyes darting back and forth as I tried to process this new information. "But... but I thought we had more time," I stammered, my mind racing with thoughts of all the things I still needed to do.
Brock shook his head, his expression unyielding. "I'm afraid not, Gabriel," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "The competition is going to be intense, and it's going to be over before you know it. You need to be prepared."
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I couldn't catch my breath, couldn't process this new information. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. But then, I remembered my manners.
"Thanks a lot for the information, Brock," I said, trying to sound calm, trying to hide the panic that was rising up inside me. "I really appreciate it."
Brock smiled, his expression softening. "Anything for you, Young Master Gabriel," he said, his voice warm and gentle. "Just remember, this competition is going to be tough. You need to stay focused, stay determined. You can't afford to waste any more time."
I nodded, trying to absorb his words, trying to make sense of it all. I knew he was right. I knew I had to stay focused, had to make sure I was ready. I was going to win this competition, no matter what it took.
Now left alone inside my room, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of my stomach. It was as if a dark cloud had descended upon me, casting a shadow of doubt over my actions. I couldn't hide the feeling that I was cheating my way to the top, using the authority and power given to me to extract information out of Brock whenever I felt desperate for directions.
As I paced back and forth across the room, my mind racing with thoughts of guilt and uncertainty, I couldn't help but wonder if I was truly worthy of winning this competition. Was I really the best candidate for the position, or was I just relying on my privilege and status to get ahead?
I thought back to all the times I had approached Brock, using my charm and influence to get him to reveal more than he was supposed to. I had always justified it to myself, telling myself that I needed the information to stay ahead of the game, to make informed decisions. But now, I wasn't so sure.
Was I really any better than the others, or was I just using my advantages to cheat my way to the top? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.
I stopped pacing and stood in front of the mirror, looking at my reflection. I barely recognized the person staring back at me. I looked tired, anxious, and uncertain. I looked like someone who was struggling to come to terms with their own actions.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I told myself that I was just being paranoid, that I was overthinking things. But the feeling of unease lingered, refusing to be shaken off.
I knew I had to make a decision. I could continue down this path, using my power and influence to get ahead, or I could try to do things the right way. I could try to earn my place, to prove myself without relying on my advantages.
It was a difficult choice, but I knew what I had to do. I couldn't keep living with the guilt and uncertainty. I had to find a way to make things right.