Me, the hard-working genius, and you, the natural-born genius.

• •

Was it seven years ago? The competition where we first met. I was certain I would win. Until you showed up.

As soon as your performance began, the audience was in awe. More so than during mine. I was jealous. I, who had played piano since I could understand words, who had heard nothing but praise, was inferior to you? But I soon had no choice but to accept it. Everyone acknowledged you—even the one person who never acknowledged me, my grandfather, a world-renowned pianist.

In the end, you took the win at that competition, and I felt a burning jealousy. A feeling boiling inside me. It was the first time I'd felt that way. So I made a vow. I would practice until I could beat you the next time we met.

• •

But you didn't show up to the next competition. Since then, I've consistently taken first place. Seven years passed, and I eventually forgot about you as I entered Cheonghwi Arts High School, the most prestigious school in Korea. I had always maintained my spot at the top of the class, but then a scholarship student arrived on the chairman's recommendation. I tried to hide my anxiety, thinking, "No matter how good they are, could they really be better than me?" I ignored you and acted annoyed whenever you spoke to me. Yet, you kept following me around with a smile. It was irritating. Not knowing who you were.

• •

Now, the teacher is telling me to play four-hands with you. I hated the idea, but I agreed because I want my grandfather's recognition.

So... just don't be a burden. I'm going to reach the very top.