"Mine!"
Five-year-old Adrian Chen clutched the red crayon like it was a life raft, his chubby little fingers going white at the knuckles. His round face flushed, his lower lip jutted out in a stubborn pout. Across the kindergarten art table, Julian Park mirrored him like some cosmic reflection, sharp dark eyes narrowed, brows drawn down into a ferocious glare that didn't fit his angelic features.
"You already have blue and green!" Julian protested, tugging at the other end of the crayon. His hair stuck up like a nest of ink-black feathers, his cheeks blotchy from exertion. "Red is mine!"
"It's not yours! It's for everyone!" Adrian fired back, voice squeaking in outrage. He pulled harder, leaning his entire little body into the tug-of-war.
The crayon bent dangerously in the middle. Around them, the other children had stopped their own coloring projects, their wide eyes glued to the spectacle. To them, Adrian and Julian might as well have been gladiators in the grandest of arenas. Even the teacher, who had already broken up three of their arguments that week, was too weary to intervene right away.
Finally, with a grunt of effort, Adrian gave one last violent tug. The crayon slipped free from Julian's grip, sending Adrian stumbling back and nearly crashing off his chair. He thrust it into the air with the triumph of a conquering warrior.
"Ha! Mine!"
Julian, however, didn't pout or cry. Instead, he dropped his hands, tilted his head, and smiled that infuriating smile that Adrian would grow to hate more than anything else.
"Fine," Julian said sweetly, already reaching for a fresh sheet of paper. "You can keep it. I'll make a better drawing anyway."
And he did.
By the time the teacher pinned their finished works to the corkboard at the end of class, Julian's bright, confident fire truck had the entire classroom pointing and praising. Adrian's lopsided apple tree with its wobbly red blobs and squiggly brown trunk sagged in comparison.
That day, Adrian learned something important: it wasn't enough to win the fight. Not if Julian could still win the war.
The air at the sports field buzzed with excitement. Colorful banners waved in the spring breeze, and the sound of sneakers pounding against the track carried across the stands.
Adrian adjusted the band of his sweatband, his heart hammering as he prepared for the relay race. His class needed him. This was his moment.
Then he heard the cheer from the next lane.
Julian Park. Again.
Julian stood with effortless composure, twirling the baton between his fingers as if this was some kind of casual game. His teammates clapped his back like he was already guaranteed victory. Adrian gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to let that guy beat him again.
The whistle blew.
Adrian sprinted like his life depended on it, legs burning, arms pumping, lungs screaming. He reached out for the final handoff, clutched the baton, and threw himself into the last stretch with everything he had. The world blurred.
For a glorious moment, Adrian thought he had it.
Then Julian flew past him in the final ten meters, his strides impossibly long, his expression infuriatingly calm. He crossed the finish line a full second ahead, barely breaking a sweat.
Julian turned back, meeting Adrian's fiery glare with that same smug grin.
"Better luck next time," he said.
Adrian nearly hurled the baton at his head.
By then, Adrian had stopped pretending fate wasn't conspiring against him. Of course Julian attended the same university. Of course they ended up in the same drama elective. And of course they both fell for the same girl the campus belle, Mei Lin.
She was beautiful, bright, and every boy's dream. But when Adrian worked up the courage to confess, he was horrified to learn Julian had already done so.
It turned into weeks of rivalry, flowers left at her dorm, lunches delivered to her study table, endless competitions to see who could impress her more.
Finally, she'd had enough.
One evening, Mei Lin stood in front of them with her arms folded, exasperation clear in her eyes. "Adrian. Julian. Stop. I don't like either of you."
Adrian's jaw dropped. "Wait..you don't..?"
"No," she interrupted firmly. "Because it's obvious you two aren't interested in me. You're just obsessed with beating each other."
She walked away, leaving them both stunned and humiliated.
That night, Adrian lay in bed staring at the ceiling, her words burning through him. You're just obsessed with beating each other.
And the worst part? She was right.
Fifteen years later, Adrian still felt the sting of those memories as he adjusted the cuff of his blazer and stepped onto the red carpet. Cameras flashed in rapid succession, reporters barked questions, fans screamed his name from behind barricades.
It should have been his moment. His night.
Until that voice rang out.
"Adrian Chen," came the smooth, mocking drawl. "Didn't think you'd arrive so early. Afraid of losing the spotlight?"
Adrian didn't even need to turn around. His shoulders stiffened, his jaw clenched. The universe could only be so cruel.
Julian Park.
The crowd erupted in louder cheers, the camera flashes doubling in intensity. Julian strolled down the carpet like he owned it, his black suit tailored to perfection, his every step exuding effortless confidence. His smile was dazzling, his wave charming, his presence magnetic.
And every bit of it made Adrian's blood boil.
He plastered on a smile for the reporters, but his voice dripped with ice. "Spotlight? Didn't know you had one left to steal."
Gasps and chuckles rippled through the press line. The reporters leaned closer, delighted to catch another headline-worthy exchange. Rivalry between the two rising stars was practically its own sub-genre of entertainment news.
Julian's grin widened. "Still sharp-tongued as ever. Glad to see some things never change."
Adrian turned away, pretending the cameras fascinated him more. But inside, his fists curled tight. No matter how many premieres, interviews, or award shows they attended, it always came back to this. The two of them, locked in a battle no one else could escape.
Later, after enduring hours of interviews and smiling until his cheeks ached, Adrian collapsed into the backseat of his manager Kevin's car. He yanked at his tie until it hung loose, then groaned and let his head fall back against the leather seat.
"Please tell me someone out there cares about my acting and not just the 'Adrian vs. Julian' circus."
Kevin snorted without looking up from his phone. "You're trending. Again. Rivalry clips are already circulating. Engagement's through the roof."
Adrian groaned louder. "Wonderful. I want awards, not memes."
"Well," Kevin said, tucking his phone away, "then it's a good thing I signed you up for a project that'll show off your range. Different director, solid budget, and…" He paused for effect. "…Julian's in it too."
Adrian sat bolt upright. "Julian? Perfect. Finally, a chance to prove who's better once and for all."
Kevin coughed lightly. "Just… keep an open mind when you read the script tomorrow."
Adrian narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Trust me," Kevin said, grinning. "This could change everything for you."
Adrian arrived at the rehearsal hall the next morning, bleary-eyed but determined. He grabbed the script handed to him by the assistant director, flipping to the title page. Hearts in Bloom. The letters were scrawled in soft, cursive font, surrounded by delicate floral designs.
His brow furrowed. "Sounds… romantic."
By page ten, his hands trembled. By page twenty, his ears burned scarlet. By page thirty, he wanted to hurl the script across the room.
It wasn't just romantic. It was a Boys' Love romance. A tender, slow-burn story about two men discovering love against the odds.
And his co-star? The male lead opposite him?
Julian Park.
Adrian dropped the script on the table with a thud. His mind spun. His pulse thundered. His pride screamed.
Then a familiar chuckle sliced through the air.
Julian leaned casually against the table across from him, holding his own copy of the script with maddening ease. His smirk was wide, his eyes alight with amusement.
"Surprise," Julian drawled. "Looks like we're destined to be lovers after all, Adrian."
Adrian's jaw nearly hit the floor.
This was not what he signed up for.