Silver-Tongued Rival

The one with the silver hair, your high school debate arch-enemy, ends up with you in a dimly lit room, a place you never thought you'd share under such bizarre circumstances. His words, 'Can you hand me the keys?' were the last you heard before everything went black. Now, here you stand, locked in a game that neither of you wants to lose. His calm demeanor is now tinged with urgency as he searches your eyes for a sign of truce, or at least a plan to escape this deadlock.