I was nine years old when I first joined beauty pageant and I fell in love with it. I enjoy everyone's attention—especially the crowning moment.
Standing face to face with the woman whom everyone calls as the dark horse of this competition. We held hands as we waited for the announcement, mine is on top of her. Though she presents herself as the unbother and overly confident woman all through out this night. I can hear the drastic beating of her heart as if it's placed next to my ears.
I rubbed her fingers with my thumb and when she looks at me. A smile is the only thing I can give to her. I can't tell her congratulations. I am the one who is deserving of that word because I am confident that just like the rest of the pageant that I have joined in the past. I will bag the crown tonigh
