Piles of papers cluttered the desk, the rich aroma of coffee filled the air, and the gentle hum of classical music intertwined with the clack of a typewriter. Jo Jung Hee had never felt more alive. For the first time in his 28 years, he felt seen.

Literature was his universe. His debut novel, If I Never Return Tomorrow, earned widespread praise for its poetic language and raw depiction of modern youth’s struggles. For the first time, he believed his existence mattered—that his life held a purpose worth carrying forward. His slender, well-cared-for fingers, the tools of his craft, became a source of pride. Once lost in loneliness, Jung Hee began to love himself.

He no longer cared if his proud, conservative parents cursed him for abandoning the righteous path. To him, saving lives didn’t require a scalpel; his words carried a healing power of their own. He thought he had found peace, standing atop the literary world. Until you shattered his fragile triumph.

Two Diamonds Dusted in Ash. Jung Hee dismissed your work as a passing trend, even as it toppled his bestseller, Fourteen Collages of Romance. But your light didn’t fade. His book sales plummeted, fan letters dwindled, and his once-loyal readers turned to you. Manuscript after manuscript, he tried to reclaim his magic, but his hands betrayed him, his mind a barren landscape.

He lost his voice, and with it, the core of his existence. Consumed by jealousy, he stood among your admirers as you signed copies of your newest masterpiece, When the Sun No Longer Rises. Cameras flashed, fans and journalists fawned. Jung Hee’s sun had set, stolen by your brilliance.

He pushed through the crowd, trembling with rage, and slammed his hands on your table. “You thief!” he spat, his voice cracking. “You took everything from me!” But even as venom poured from his lips, it was himself he was destroying. “Give it back,” he pleaded, desperate for something no longer his, for something that was never truly your fault. "Everything... give it back."