There are many places Kyungsoo would rather be on a Sunday morning.

Standing in an empty five-level office, teetering on three hours of sleep and whatever caffeinated drink he could find, is not one of them.

The entire department is still scattered with the forgotten mess that usually comes with the rush to leave work at the end of the week. Kyungsoo wouldn’t know; his life knows no weekends and his makeshift workplace at home permanently looks like it has been ravaged by a hurricane of category four.

He stands beside Baekhyun, his editor and closest friend since selling his life to writing, as they wait in front of his computer for the release of this month’s bestsellers list.

“Any minute now,” Baekhyun’s voice is laced with anxiety, excitement and anticipation. The moment the digits on the corner screen clock switch to nine o’clock, his index finger slams down on the key to refresh. Sure enough, the list is out, printed in bolded black down the centre of the page.

At first he thinks he’s still dreaming, stuck in a trance that feels a little like reality. The title that vacates the top spot isn’t the novel he spent months slaving over.

“No,” he whispers when his eyes flit to the book ranked second. The all too familiar words with his name sitting innocently next to them crushes his heart.

It’s safe to say that Kyungsoo is dedicated to his career.

He is incredibly hardworking; pumps out at least one book on a yearly basis and they always sell out in every bookstore. Reviewers commend him on his world building and storytelling, noting that he is a breath of fresh air in the Young Adult genre. Even though the targeted audience would drink in any story with shallow characters and cliché plots, Kyungsoo focuses on making every novel an elaborate journey.

In all honesty, Kyungsoo hates the fact he needs to slip in overused tropes occasionally to ensure his books still appeal to his fans and sell. He always tries his best and takes extra care to a put a different spin on them and make sure he is far removed from the scorned genre. For someone who writes stories that could be hailed as legendary in a genre that is generally looked upon with disdain, Kyungsoo thinks that he is very deserving of his recognition. The only thing he hates more than being forced to write stereotypical scenes and plot points is when his hard work yields no fruit.

He hears Baekhyun gulp behind him and push himself away from the table, ready to placate the author’s oncoming wrath.

“It was his comeback after three years.” Baekhyun’s eyes fly to every corner of the room to make sure there are no fragile objects that Kyungsoo can against the wall and smash to pieces. “This was to be expected.”

“Not really,” Kyungsoo seethes through gritted teeth. “It was absolute as always.”

White by Kim Jongin mocks him through the screen.

Kim Jongin.

Never let Kyungsoo hear his name, unless you want him to go on a rampage and a thirteen minute and fifty-three second rant about why the highbrow author doesn’t deserve all the recognition he receives.

Kyungsoo, as he would argue, has perfect reason to hate Jongin, for he himself is a talented, acclaimed author (forget the part where he writes Young Adult) who writes brilliantly plotted stories with immaculate and mostly complex characterisation. Jongin, on the other hand, strings together words he thinks will look and sound pretty together, creates four hundred pages of prose that makes no sense and calls it ‘art.’ First press publication always come in millions and he will claim number one. Kyungsoo thinks this is complete, utter blasphemy. Kim Jongin is a grave abomination to the literary world.

Despite his claims and vivid demonstrations of hostility towards Jongin, there are still people who find it necessary to remind him that there is a very thin line between love and hate. They think that the relationship between the two authors is a real-life depiction of that overused trope and cliché plotline (Kyungsoo may or may not have also been guilty of utilising it) where arch-nemeses end up falling in love

Once, Baekhyun had the audacity to say, “If this were one of your books, wouldn’t you and Jongin end up together in the end?”

As a threat, Kyungsoo didn’t write for an entire week, until he had Baekhyun breaking down each individual hinge on his door and kneeling on the floor and desperately taking his words back.

“Honestly, I have lost faith in the world,” Kyungsoo declares. “If they’re going to be brainwashed and fall head over heels with Kim Jongin’s mess of literature, then I don’t even want to be first place.”

“Hey, we’ll get it next time.” Baekhyun places a reassuring hand on Kyungsoo’s shoulder.

A mop of brown hair sticking up in all directions suddenly appears at the doorway and the man trips over his own shoelaces in a hurry to run to the desk.

“I totally forgot the list comes out today,” he breathes, picking himself up and stumbling across the room to switch on his computer.

“It’s fine, Sehun,” Baekhyun says. “Jongin placed number one.”

Sehun blinks. “Oh really? Great, I’ll tell him that.” When he has dialled the number on his phone, he asks, “What about you, Kyungsoo?”

“Second,” Kyungsoo gripes. He doesn’t even try to mask the irritation in his voice. If it were anyone else, Kyungsoo would’ve snapped at them for trying to egg him on, but Sehun is positively lost one hundred percent of the time and Kyungsoo is sure he only asked the question out of pure curiosity without any other ill intentions.

“Kyungsoo,” Sehun calls as he peels his face away from the phone. “Jongin told me to pass on his congratulations.”

“Tell him to off,” snaps Kyungsoo. This is how they have grown to know one another, through electronic pages where their names are either above or below each other. Their relationship is built upon a thick foundation of contempt.

Jongin’s voice comes blaring through the metal brick, “I heard that!”

It’s obvious Jongin is not offended at all. He is thoroughly amused by the situation.

And apparently Sehun isn’t as dumb as his long fringed bowl cut and happy-go-lucky smile might suggest. When he notices the way Kyungsoo narrows his eyes and his forehead begins to crease, Sehun bids them goodbye and quickly leaves the room, still on the phone with Jongin.

Somewhere from down the hallway, he hisses, “You shouldn’t egg him on! You’ve never met him so you don’t know how scary he is when he gets mad. Don’t underestimate small people, small people can be really intimidating.”

“Sehun, we can hear you,” Baekhyun clears his throat and shouts.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t hear anything. Kyungsoo, you’re not scary at all.” squeaks Sehun back. Kyungsoo can imagine Sehun jumping from the sound of Baekhyun’s voice and the phone slipping out of his grasp in his alarm.

It takes a while for Sehun’s echoing voice to disappear from the hallway completely. When they can no longer hear him talking to Jongin, Kyungsoo laments, “Why do I even write if no one even appreciates it.”

“What do you mean no one appreciates your work? Look, you’re number two.” Baekhyun points to the screen. The gesture has the complete opposite effect to the editor’s intended desire as Kyungsoo grimaces at the sight. “There are a lot of people who would cry if they were in the bestsellers list, let alone second.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kyungsoo sighs. It’s impossible for anyone, no matter how successful or popular they are, no matter how much of a loyal following their novels have gather, to guarantee topping the bestsellers list. The final result comes down to a million little circumstances that no one has control over. Placing first is a game of luck and strategy. You only need the tiniest sliver of talent.

“Kyungsoo, you don’t write to place first,” Baekhyun says. “You write because you enjoy it.”

Of course that’s why people write. Writing is a form of enjoyment and a platform of expression.

The sad truth is though, eventually, every person who writes looks down at their keys and the words on their pages and forgets the reason they began to write. For some people, it just takes a little while longer.

At seven published books, Kyungsoo spends everyday pushing the fatigue away and convinces himself that he is one of the few people in the world doing something he genuinely enjoys. He’s not ready to let go of it yet. So he nods at Baekhyun, “Yeah, thanks for that. I needed it.”

“Now that you’ve been grounded, let’s focus on the more important things.”

They proceed to prepare a plan to snatch the throne back from Jongin’s grasp into Kyungsoo’s hands where it rightfully belongs.

☂ ☂ ☂

After four years of competing on the bestsellers lists and throwing each other the occasional snide remark when they find themselves within greeting radius at the office, Jongin and Kyungsoo meet properly for the first time at the Seoul International Writer’s Festival.

Kyungsoo wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, nursing a bad case of nausea. He thinks that these, in addition to the grey clouds in the sky, are telltale signs of a disastrous day. But Baekhyun cares nothing for Kyungsoo’s superstition and ignores his complaints, dragging him out of bed by his ear. Breakfast is forced down his throat and then he is shoved into the back of a taxi and they are on their way towards the venue.

He spends the entire trip eyeing the clouds in the sky precariously and trying to calm his churning stomach.

“Oh my god,” Kyungsoo gasps. “I think I just saw a hearse drive past us.”

Baekhyun doesn’t even look up when he replies evenly, “You’re just imagining things. Calm down and stop wobbling your legs.”

It feels like weeks have passed before they finally pull into the carpark and Kyungsoo is ushered through the back door of the venue towards the panel that has already been set up with a white cloth covered table. The panel seats eight authors and he is allocated the middle.

Kyungsoo almost faints when he sees Jongin’s name printed on the place card beside his.

“I knew coming was a terrible idea,” he wails.

“What the ,” comes a deep voice from behind Kyungsoo.

Be polite, Kyungsoo chants in his head when he turns around to face the owner of the voice. As usual, the man is dressed in a camel trench coat and dark wash jeans.

“Ah, Kim Jongin–,” Kyungsoo starts to extend his hand.

“Sehun, am I reading this right?” Jongin completely ignores Kyungsoo and instead turns around to his editor. “Did I put my contacts in the wrong way round this morning?”

“No, you’re reading it right,” Kyungsoo answers on behalf of Sehun. “We’re seated next each other. How exciting.”

Jongin makes a show of peering over and around Kyungsoo, even going as far as doing a 360 degree turn to survey the whole room before he looks down at him. His lips pull into a smirk, “Oh, I didn’t see you down there.”

Kyungsoo must have forgotten what a complete utter Kim Jongin is. That was a terrible mistake.

“That was a low blow–”

“Even lower than your rank on the bestsellers list?” Jongin grin grows wider.

Sometimes, Kyungsoo wished that he had been a jock in high school instead of a nerd and bookworm. If he’d been one of those guys who were obsessed with going to the gym and spent hours flexing his muscles in the mirror and comparing them to that of his friends in the change rooms, maybe he would have enough strength to break Jongin’s face. The harsh reality, however, is that it would probably be Kyungsoo’s fingers smashed to pieces if they connected with Jongin’s chiselled cheekbones and nose bridge. And he really ought to save his fingers because they earn him money and keep him alive.

He takes three deep breaths, until his fingers are gradually unclenching.

Then he, like the civil person he is inside, shoots back, “Do you think you’re ing funny?”

“I’m hilarious,” Jongin responds without missing a beat.

Kyungsoo swears he is going to wipe that smirk right off Jongin’s face when a couple of workers stumble onto the scene. As if the tension wasn’t already rigid enough to tell, they ask blankly, “Is there a problem here?”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and sighs, leading them into the corner to explain the situation.

The event organisers apologise profusely to the editors with wide eyes, saying something along the lines of, “We seated people from the same publisher together, it was an honest mistake,” but Kyungsoo thinks that is absolute bull. The two authors have attended the same events together and managed to be kept far, far away from the other.

Baekhyun shares his sentiments.

“They just want beef from the famous rivalry,” he hisses. He looks Kyungsoo dead in the eyes and asks, “Do you know what this means?”

“We give them nothing?”

“That’s right,” nods Baekhyun.

“I’ll try my best.” Kyungsoo glances over at Jongin who gives him a wave, permanent smirk present, and scowls in return. “No promises though.”

Baekhyun’s impending shriek is cut off by the announcer introducing the panel of authors.

Kyungsoo is fourth.

“Do Kyungsoo, author of the bestselling Ambivalent series and Faint of Heart.”

Kyungsoo plasters on a wide smile and waves to the screaming crowd as he steps out. He squints to see where the congregation of people dwindle and scatter into other excited festival goers. The sight of the crowd stretching right to the back where he can’t see makes his head spin and he has already begun to flex his fingers and prepare for a long day.

“Kim Jongin, author of the critically acclaimed novels, Beneath the Blue and White.”

“What’s with you and naming your books after colours,” Kyungsoo snorts when Jongin slides into the seat beside him.

“It’s an artistic thing,” Jongin replies simply as he takes a swig of water from the bottle provided at the front of the table, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and imitates, “Cause I’m Kim Jongin and I’m so artistic and brilliant.”

“Sounds about right.” Jongin flashes a grin at him.

The familiar feeling of anger bubbling beneath Kyungsoo skin, burning through his veins, comes back. His voice is dangerously low, “I swear–”

“Sh, we’re starting.” Jongin nudges him, keeping his gaze planted forward.

☂ ☂ ☂

For the most part, the event passes smoothly.

Kyungsoo finds himself falling into easy conversation with another Young Adult novelist to his left, whose books Kyungsoo has read and thoroughly enjoyed. When they released a novel at the same time last year, the particular author had placed second below Kyungsoo on the bestsellers list.

As the panel progresses and the host proposes question after question to the authors, it becomes increasingly evident that he is trying to provoke Kyungsoo and Jongin. Despite the constant encouragement, both of them keep their remarks to tight-lipped jeers. After a while, Jongin begins to tap his fingers on the table and click his tongue.

The host continues, “This panel is filled with a variety of different authors, a mix of Young Adult, highbrow, and also a writers. I guess the question is: do you read each other’s books?”

“Yes,” the author sitting to farthest left of the panel answers. She leans forward into her microphone, tucking her hair behind her ear and fiddling with her hands. “I have personally read all the novels of every Young Adult novelist here, and some of my fans have probably seen my comments about them. I’ve also read a couple of Jongin’s novels and I have a large amount of respect for him and his talent.”

“Thank you,” Jongin responds. “I am regretful to admit that I, unfortunately, haven’t been able to read any of your works. Writing, as I’m sure every person on this panel understands, is quite time-consuming and I barely have any free time.”

“Bull,” mutters Kyungsoo under his breath. Then he raises his voice and quips, “He’s only saying that to cover up the fact that he looks down on us Young Adult authors.”

Jongin breaks into a smile, one that shows off his rows of straight white teeth and shining eyes. This is why, Kyungsoo thinks, the rest of the country is head over heels in love with the highbrow author. Jongin’s voice is coloured with amusement when he retorts, “That privilege is only reserved for you, Kyungsoo. I have great respect for every other Young Adult novelist.”

When Kyungsoo a shallow breath in, the audience begins to collectively coo, “Ooh.” This is the banter that they have waited hours to see, lined up outside the venue since dawn cracked and the first slivers of sunlight started to peek through the clouds.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he hears Baekhyun’s sharp voice and remembers his editor’s words. Kyungsoo exhales, nods, and forces with a chuckle, “Well, aren’t I lucky?”

He ignores the way the audience sighs heavily in disappointment. The host continues asking questions, directed at each of the different authors, with a dampened mood.

When the author seating on the far right of the panel is talking about her struggles with trying to please her audience, Jongin whispers, “I’m surprised you didn’t take the bait.”

Kyungsoo only barely catches it above the amplified voice of the talking author but he shoots back, “Some of us are older than ten.”

“I can see that some of us are also groundlessly presumptuous today,” remarks Jongin. It takes everything in Kyungsoo not to kick him underneath the table. Then Jongin asks, “Don’t you think the host is being a little too overt?”

It would be easier for Kyungsoo to keep his word to Baekhyun if the highbrow author would stop talking to him every two seconds. His patience is running thin, taking longer than usual for his veins to slot back into place and for him to become calm again. However, he still replies, “It’s not like this situation will happen again, so I’m sure he is making most of the opportunity.”

“Who knows whether this situation will be repeated? It’s been quite enjoyable sitting next to you. You’re easier to aggravate in person.”

“I made a promise to my editor,” breathes Kyungsoo.

“That makes two of us,” says Jongin. “I have made a lot of promises in my lifetime, but I can singlehandedly count the amount I have actually fulfilled.”

“I’m not interested in your life story.” Kyungsoo doesn’t think Jongin is very adept at reading the atmosphere, or noticing Kyungsoo’s attempts at terminating the conversation.

Jongin continues, “I can guarantee you it’s more interesting than the garbage you publish.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” scoffs Kyungsoo. “I think the only one who writes garbage here is yourself.”

“Cute,” Jongin derides. “You think your opinion is valid.”

Thankfully, the host interrupts Kyungsoo. A second too late and he’s not sure the scandalous articles the tabloids publish tomorrow would be entirely false.

“During the process of writing the Ambivalent series, did you experience any difficulties?” is the question he is asked.

“I think that when you’re writing anything, whether it be a novel, a short story, poetry, anything, that you grapple with your own difficulties. For me, the will to continue is particularly taxing, and I do have a hard time tying stories up and finishing them,” answers Kyungsoo. “I think out of all my works so far, the Ambivalent books were probably the easiest to write because they were my first ones. When I was writing them I solely focused on them. Now I have about a dozen projects I’m working on all at the same time.”

Jongin decides he can’t forego the opportunity to toss in a taunt at Kyungsoo and adds, “I guess as you keep writing and increase your workload, the quality of your books decrease.”

“I’m sure you would know from reading my books,” Kyungsoo retorts.

Before the audience and the host can react to the statement and ponder over the implications, Jongin swoops in and continues, “I guess that’s the beauty of writing trilogies and series and what not, you end up gathering a following of mindless fans who devour anything you release without giving a second thought about the writing itself.”

Kyungsoo frowns at the words. They’re not just directed towards him, but also offends all the other Young Adult authors seated on the panel and the crowd that fills the entirety of the room.

The host coughs and announces that the book signing will begin promptly and instructs everyone to file into an organised line starting at the bottom of the steps. The room is filled with a buzz of excitement as everyone rushes to save their place in the queue and the authors grab their permanent markers. Everyone, it seems, forgets about Jongin’s statement. Only Kyungsoo remains frozen in his seat, Jongin’s words running through his head repeatedly. A heavy feeling begins to weigh down his heart and he wonders if he really is too overconfident and his skills aren’t nearly as prodigious as he has fooled himself into believing.

But he doesn’t have time to mull over his insecurities. Jongin nudges him and raises an eyebrow, asking, “Aren’t you going to grab your pen? The fans are coming up already.”

“I was doing that,” Kyungsoo snaps. He uncaps his Sharpie and greets the girl standing tentatively in front of him, carrying the latest novel from his prequel trilogy. He flashes his usual smile and asks for her name, addressing the signature neatly on the title page. Then he passes it back to her and says, “Thank you for always reading my books and supporting me.”

The girl blushes and shakes her head hurriedly, “I really enjoy reading them! I hope you never stop writing.” She then rushes off past Jongin and the rest of the authors.

Twenty-six signed books later, Kyungsoo notices that most of the crowd were made up of Young Adult fans, excitedly greeting the first four authors on the panel and disappearing after having their book signed by Kyungsoo. It’s an understatement to say he is surprised when a black-haired girl dressed in a red plaid shirt and distressed denim shorts comes up clutching both his novel and another book with a cover that looks suspiciously similar to White.

“You two are both my favourite authors,” she exclaims as she slides Kyungsoo’s book over to him.

“Do forgive me, but did you mean to say I am your favourite author?” Jongin clarifies while Kyungsoo accepts her book. When the girl shakes her head slowly and repeats that she is a fan of both his and Kyungsoo’s books, Jongin swears, “I have never been more offended in my life.”

The girl creases her forehead and starts to fiddle with her hands, apologising, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I just really, really like the books the two of you release.”

Kyungsoo finishes signing her book and hands it back to her with an encouraging smile. “Don’t mind him. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. You’re better off not wasting your time with him.”

She pouts and hesitates before passing her copy of White to Jongin. He takes it roughly and glares at Kyungsoo, “Funny that you would say that. Anyone who reads your novels is wasting their time.”

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says. His rising voice makes the authors pause and turn to look at him. “At least my books are real books.” He can feel Baekhyun wincing from behind the stage but it’s already too late to stop the oncoming fight. Adrenaline is pulsing through Kyungsoo’s veins. He’s not sure what has made the pent up irritation and anger explode. It’s not like Jongin’s last comment was the worst he’d ever had to bear.

Jongin blinks at him, and places his pen down slowly.

“Are you seriously accusing my works of not being real books?” His voice is strangely passive.

Kyungsoo shrugs and says, “Considering that they are just piles of incoherent thoughts dumped onto pages between two thick covers, you have a lot of nerve to call them novels.” Blood is rushing up and pooling in his cheeks. He is aware that everyone’s eyes are trained on him, but he can’t find the inclination to back down.

“May I just remind you who placed first on the bestsellers list last time? I’m sure if your sentiments were true, I wouldn’t even dream of seeing my name there,” sneers Jongin.

“We both know you use your looks to sell your sorry excuse of books.”

“We also both know that your novels only sell because you milk innocent girls’ naïve fantasies with your unrealistic and cliché characters and romance tropes.”

Jongin is wrong. Or maybe he isn’t.

“Alright, time out,” Sehun declares, placing a firm hand on Jongin’s shoulder from behind.

Kyungsoo turns around and finds Baekhyun looking at him. The editors had caught wind of the argument and rushed onto the stage as a last resort. Baekhyun sighs, “At least you didn’t stand up or get physical. The photographers would have had a real ball then.” He gestures to the six people who have gathered at the entrance of the room heaving hefty digital cameras pointed towards the panel.

Beside Kyungsoo, Sehun is whispering something in Jongin’s ear that makes the highbrow author widen his eyes. It piques Kyungsoo’s curiosity, although he doesn’t voice it. All he wants to do is finish the signing and disaster of a panel appearance so he can crawl into his bed, wrap himself in his blankets and sleep away the nightmare that has been meeting Jongin.

Baekhyun leans into the microphone and apologises, “Sorry for how this panel has turned out. Please forgive the unprofessionalism we have displayed and continue supporting our authors’ works.”

To Kyungsoo’s dismay, the editors leave hastily and the signing continues. He can tell by the way every person who stops in front of him to have their book signed shifts back and forth and lingers behind, that they want to mention something about the argument that had erupted beforehand. Kyungsoo is glad that they are too apprehensive to bring it up and returns their signed novels with a stiff smile.

When the winding line of adoring fans finally ends, Kyungsoo is able to breathe a sigh of relief and shake out his swollen fingers. As he is escorted to the taxi waiting outside the venue and takes one last look at the retreating figure down the street dressed in a trench coat, he hopes that he will never have the misfortune of seeing that Kim Jongin’s face ever again.

He is very wrong.