The Chump Awards Mishap

Lena tapped her pencil against the whiteboard, glaring at the words Will had scrawled in bright orange marker: “Hire a live llama for the Chump Awards.” Will leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a grin plastered on his face.

“It’s bold. It’s memorable. It’s... a llama,” Lena said flatly.

“Exactly! People love llamas.” He winked.

The Chump Awards was the company’s annual celebration—a night to honor the most bizarre invention of the year. Lena and Will had been forced to co-chair the event. They'd been at odds since day one, trading snarky remarks and sabotaging each other's ideas.

“We’re not getting a llama, Will. It’ll be chaos.”

“Chaos is our brand.”

Lena rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide a smile. Will always knew how to get under her skin—in an infuriating and oddly charming way.

Two weeks later, on the day of the event, the venue was humming with excitement. Lena was adjusting the ribbon on a trophy when Will walked up, holding two cups of coffee.

“Truce?” he offered, handing her a cup.

She took it suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I just realized I’d rather have you on my side than against me.”

Before she could respond, a commotion erupted from the lobby. Will’s llama had arrived—an absolute unit named Kevin wearing a bow tie. Kevin immediately knocked over a display of antique chump-shaped pencils, sending them clattering across the floor.

Lena groaned. “Will!”

“He’s an emotional support llama,” Will called back, chasing Kevin.

As if on cue, Kevin trotted straight for Lena, sniffed her hair, and then—to everyone’s horror—began to eat her carefully handwritten placard.

“No no no!” Lena grabbed the other end. “That’s the 'Most Chump-ulent Trophy' sign!”

They both tugged, Kevin won. Then the llama, thoroughly pleased, kissed Lena’s cheek with a slobbery lick.

Lena stood there, splattered with llama saliva, mascara slightly smeared. The entire office was frozen, cameras flashing.

Will, despite the chaos, burst out laughing. “You’ve never looked cuter, Lena.”

She turned to him, ready to unleash a string of insults, but his genuine smile melted her anger. She burst out laughing too, wiping her face.

“You’re a disaster, Will Okafor.”

“Yes, but I’m your disaster.”

The room went silent. Will looked as surprised as Lena did by his confession. Then he shrugged, stepped forward, and planted a soft kiss on Lena’s cheek.

“That’s for saving my llama’s reputation.”

Lena’s heart fluttered. “You’re paying for the placard.”

“And dinner?”

She considered it. “Fine. But you’re also cleaning this up.”

“Deal.”

The audience erupted in applause and wolf-whistles. Even Kevin seemed to nod approvingly.

Later, as the awards wrapped up and the lights dimmed, Will found Lena at the dessert table. He offered her a piece of cake.

“So, about that truce...” he began.

“It’s a truce,” she said, “with a date attached.”

Will grinned. “That’s the best kind of truce.”

They ate cake together, ignoring Kevin’s attempts to join them, and for the first time, the Chump Awards didn’t feel like a competition. It felt like the start of something wonderful.