Competitive Love 💕/ Why me?

Chapter 1: Echoes of War

In the heart of a desolate desert, two warriors stood under the scorching sun, their armors glinting like celestial bodies in the vast emptiness. Their gazes locked in a fierce standoff, radiating an intensity that seemed to rival the sun's own fiery blaze.

The warrior to the left bore an armor of gold, shimmering against the sandy winds. His red hair, the color of autumn leaves, was matted with the blood of countless battles, and his honey-brown eye held the ferocity of a man who had faced death and emerged victorious.

In stark contrast, his adversary was clad in silver, a vision of divine wrath descended from the myths of old. His blue eyes were as cold and unforgiving as the winter sky, and his silver hair flowed like moonlight. Not a single blemish marred his godlike presence, setting him apart as a being untouched by the mortal toils of war.

They were the embodiment of eternal rivals, each the antithesis of the other, born from the same desire to obliterate the other's existence.

As the golden warrior leaped forward, sword raised for a killing blow, the silver knight braced for the onslaught. But before steel could clash against steel, a thunderous voice boomed from the heavens, "Anderson! Anderson!"

Jolted from the battlefield of his dreams, a young man with fiery red hair awoke. "It's Andy," he murmured, the remnants of war fading from his eyes.

"You're my devil brother, Anderson," a girl's voice chided, urgency lacing her words. "Hurry up, we need to go home."

Home—a concept that felt foreign to Andy. "A house that can never be a home," he whispered to himself.

"It's your beautiful sister's birthday, how can you be late?" she teased, her voice a mix of exasperation and affection.

"Alright, I'll get ready. Just wait outside," he conceded, though he knew her well enough to expect her response.

"No!" she declared; her smile unwavering.

Andy couldn't help but smile at her stubbornness as he retreated to the washroom. Meanwhile, she busied herself with tidying his room, her gaze eventually settling on a portrait that hung with prominence. The inscription read:

"All great wars happen for a reason. It's to let go of the anger in you and find the inner peace."

Memories of sorrow flooded her mind—the loss of their father, the tears shed in the sterile silence of a hospital room, and the comforting embrace of a tall man in a suit, his own eyes brimming with grief.

Her reverie was broken by Andy's return. "What's wrong?" he inquired, noting the shadow of sadness in her smile.

"Nothing. Let's have breakfast. I made your favorite," she replied, masking her tears with a cheerful facade.

As they ate, Andy spoke, his voice tinged with a knowing sadness. "Sia, you think I don't know what you're thinking. But remember, some wishes can never come true."

Her heart sank, but she pressed on, urging him to laugh, to let go of the past and embrace the present.

"Even if it affects the present?" he countered, the weight of history heavy in his voice.

In the car, on the way to celebrate, she pleaded for a detour to Trevor's apartment. At the mention of the name, Andy's demeanor hardened. "Trevor," he echoed, a storm brewing behind his calm exterior.

"It's my birthday," she implored, and with a resigned sigh, he acquiesced.

As Andy waited in the car, memories of Trevor danced before his eyes—childhood games, teenage competitions, and the realization that true kingship lies not in crowns or conquests, but in the essence of one's character.

A sudden horn blast snapped him back to reality. Deciding to check on Sia, he found himself in an elevator surrounded by admiring glances. "He is better looking than that guy," he overheard, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"After all, we are competitors," he thought, stepping out into the world once more.